One Year Anniversary Celebration

Forget the cake, gifts of paper or anything else. Here at the Saratoga Animal Shelter we're celebrating the one year anniversary of Randi and Earl with 24 Hours of Mischief. I felt it was appropriate to have a mischief theme as that is what Randi and Earl do best.

It's hard to believe that it's only been one year since Randi and Earl showed up at my gate. Since that time they've committed uncountable acts of mischief, resulting in the loss of socks, underware, sports bras, Clark's toys, sandpaper, three or four dog beds and most of Sarah's patience. And so for the 24 Hours of Mischief they've been quite reserved. Maybe they're maturing. Maybe they're out of the "terrible two's"; I'm not really sure, but they are quite calm.

I on the other hand, have managed my own mischief. Accidentally, I drained half of the pool yesterday. I didn't want to drain the pool, if I had, why would I have just put chemicals in it? So I was surprised when I saw that half of my pool water was in the backyard and not in the pool. I created more mischief when I tried to fill the pool back up and the hose fell out and for who knows how long, it watered my backyard. Brilliant.

However, the 24 Hours of Mischief are not over.

An F+ in Survival Training, but an A+ in Landscaping

Clark and Sarah spent about five weeks in survival training the first time I went to Utah. They're troopers. Randi and Earl barely passed the pre-survival test in November when they had two nights alone, when I went to the Grand Canyon. They failed miserably when I went to North Carolina and tried to kill each other by getting tangled up in leashes. Last week, due in part to the electrified fence they scathed by. Day One of the Utah trip, I imagine they were mostly confused about why I wasn't home. Day Two, while I was enjoying Bryce Canyon they probably chased each other around until they fell over tired or they annoyed Sarah until she bit them both and took out patches of hair. But I think it was probably Day Three, as I was hiking Peekaboo Canyon, that they began to think about rearranging the landscaping in the backyard. I'm sure that they were thinking that I would be impressed. Maybe they were even thinking that I would reward them with chicken. I really couldn't have understood the scope of their imagination, since I really only have a dirt and dead tree garden. Really, what could they do? But I think that it was probably on Day Four, as I was driving to Capitol Reef that they began to implement their relandscaping project. I can't imagine how long it would have taken the two of them to rip out a branch of the tree and its root, but they did.
Upon my return on Day Six, I was initially very happy to see all four dogs alive and in the backyard (following a phone call from the neighbors in which they expressed their concern for Sarah, not to mention the fact that the dogs were barking a lot at night. Needless to say, I expected the worst.) However, I was impressed that during my absence Randi and Earl had completed a landscaping project, by removing branches and roots.
These talents don't compare to the two of them helping me discover that in fact there is some kind of dead something underneath my house. Life. It doesn't get better than this.

Earl helps me hunt for mice

As it happens, I am not a great house owner. There are many things at my house that are not up to par and need to be fixed. This is because I don’t have a husband. Or at least I think so. If I had a husband he would be able to fix all of these problems for me while I worked on dinner and cleaned toilets. I know this is a rather classic view of male/female roles in the house, but the fact is, I don’t want to deal with some stuff, most noteably: mice. But because I have no husband, I have had to make do and so I have a system for dealing with mice. Upon first seeing the mouse droppings, I ignore them. Then, I talk to the mice and tell the mice that if they don’t bother me I won’t bother them. Inevitably, they don’t agree to this and continue to plague me. Then I call my dad with the mice news hoping that just this one time he will say "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." (He never does. He just says, "It's a homeowner's job.") In the end I have to set the traps and then get out the special BBQ pinchers that I use exclusively for picking up mouse traps filled with mice. There is always a lot of screaming on my part.

So as it happens, I have a mouse problem and a dryer vent that needs repair. This has produced the most spectacular event that Earl has participated in. Twice when I have gone to start the dryer a mouse has run out of the dryer vent. Thus, Earl is convinced that anytime I turn on the dryer a mouse will run out. What this means is that Earl is ready to go when I turn the dryer on. Whenever I go near the dryer, Earl follows me and looks anxiously at the dryer, waiting for the mouse. If I forget to call him he has come running around the corner at the sound of the door opening. Earl has become my go-to guy for mouse hunting.

Last week, after having unsuccessfully negotiated with the mice to leave me alone, I heard one rumbling around in the cabinet. I called Earl and he and I investigated in the kitchen. The investigation looked like this: Me in the middle of the kitchen with the broom poking at cabinets and screaming, "Go away mouse!" and Earl standing in the kitchen looking up at me like he had no idea what his part in this spectacle was. We didn't find any mice that day, but later when I caught five mice in the middle of the night, he was the only one who got up at 1:30 AM and followed me into the kitchen to provide moral support while I screamed and used the special mouse getting BBQ pinchers to pick up mouse traps and throw them into the trash. If only he would learn how to get rid of the mice himself.

How many dogs do you have?

I hate when people ask me that question. I don't hate the question; I just hate giving the answer. Before I could just say, "two." A very reasonable number for a single person living alone. Then, there was a transition period where I could say, "Well, I have two and then I have these two puppies, I'm trying to get adopted." Then I just sounded like a concerned animal lover looking out for abandoned dogs. But now? Now I have to admit, (and I admit reluctantly) "I have four dogs." And then the person gets The Look that tells me that I'm the girl with four dogs. One dog, cool. Two dogs, animal lover. Four dogs and people look at me like I have serious issues. Four dogs? Sometimes I just have to say it to myself for me to believe it, "Do I really have four dogs?" I can't even believe it and neither can people when I tell them. Then I feel obliged to explain about how these two puppies showed up at my house one day and they were so skinny and pathetic, but happy go lucky that I let them in and then I tried to get them adopted and Randi did get adopted, but then got unadopted the next day and then the person has stopped listening and is just going back what could possibly be wrong with me that I have four dogs. I don't even know what's wrong with me that I have four dogs, except they were really skinny and pathetic and I had to let them in the yard. I'm like the old spinster lady with a bunch of cats, only it's dogs and I'm not old yet.

The Smartest Dogs Ever

Everyone thinks that they have the smartest domestic animals on the planet, but this week, Randi and Earl have proven that they really are the smartest animals, if not on the planet, at least on our street. Yesterday during my absence, Randi and Earl turned on the water in the backyard. Now, some may remember the last time Randi and Earl managed to "turn" the water on in the backyard, the day that they chewed the hose up to the swamp cooler, which produced a water park like attraction with water spraying all over the place. That day was quite extraordinary, especially with the plants that had been over turned and the mud pit that ensued. However, yesterday, Randi and Earl turned the water on, by literally turning the water on. Somehow, (I imagine that this adventure must have involved some sort of wrestling match), they managed to turn the knob on the faucet. Not normally a problem because there would be a hose, but being that Randi and Earl had previously chewed off the hose, this resulted in a mild river and small canine made lake in my back yard. (Note, Sarah's involvement in this shenanigan is unknown. She may have very well masterminded the whole event and explained how to turn the facet.) So you can imagine that I immediately swelled with immense pride at my puppies who have learned to turn on water. Particularly, I'm thinking that this will be much easier when I'm not home, as I won't have to worry about whether or not they have water. In case of doubt of their intelligence, this morning Earl proved that really he is quite the genius. (Note also: my sister says that Earl is a pot smoker due to his vacant and stoned look most of the time. After her observation, I did watch Early pretty closely and he does disappear for bits of time and then come back with a goofy look on his face, but I don't think he's smoking pot. Where would he get the money?) This morning Earl turned on the TV. No really. TV on. You might think, what was Early watching? Weeds? Animal Planet? No, he turned on the TV to listen to music. So all of us were woken up this morning to XM Radio. Freaking Randi and Earl. They're geniuses.