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Stupid adorable heartbreakers

If only our dogs could be… I dunno… a little less squishable.

“Oh, hello. I’m just here being lovable and stuff.”

That would make life a whole lot easier, is all I’m saying.

Today I’m over at Alpha Mom talking about how love is always a risk, and so sometimes you really do just sign up for having your heart broken, and maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Because, seriously, look at that face. LOOK AT IT. It’s not like I had a choice.

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Happy accidents and small heart attacks

When I last left you, I was talking about furniture and how my dogs are disgusting. This is perfect, because today I am happy to report that we have furniture and my dogs are slightly less disgusting but still super-stressful, because I am never happy unless something I love causes me anguish. HAHAHA.

Anyway! The new furniture was delivered on Monday, and the first piece off the truck looked wrong. After checking over the paperwork and discussing it with the (very nice) delivery guy, it was determined that yes, in fact, we had ordered a love seat with a center console (you know, a compartment for remote controls and built-in cup holders, because we are nothing if not lazy) but they had shipped us a regular love seat, instead. We’d waited all this time and they sent us the wrong thing! Such first-world problem-having! No matter, they said to keep the wrong piece until they could get us the right one. So sweet of them. And then… once all the pieces were in place (it’s a sectional setup, composed of a couch, corner unit, and love seat) it became clear that if the love seat was any bigger it would be Too Much. Our family room isn’t that large, the new furniture is very… floofy (totally a real thing). So! Yay for the wrong thing that turned out to be right!

Also there has been no stealth-puking from the pups lately (as far as we know…), but a couple of days ago Duncan became decidedly wobbly. This was concerning. I discovered he had an ear infection and began treating that, but yesterday morning he was having so many tremors and so much trouble standing that I was sure he was having a prolonged seizure. We knew Duncan was sickly when we adopted him but I AM NOT READY YET, let’s just say that. Fortunately the vet suggested he may just be really struggling with his arthritis, and gave us some anti-inflammatories to try, and today Duncan is 1000% better. Phew. MAH BAYBEE.

So! Life continues to never be dull. While I was away dealing with all of that and working and such, I also took to Alpha Mom and wrote my most controversial blog post yet. (Hint: It’s about beets. People have strong feelings about beets.) And then after I finished eating my beets (mmmm… beets), I wished I could save my teens from friendship woes with some sort of Borg mind-meld. Still working on figuring that one out.

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A brief (yet disgusting) interlude

For Christmas this past year, sometime in October Otto and I gazed lovingly into one another’s eyes and decided to forego traditional gift buying for each other to instead embark upon the most romantic of journeys… replacing our family room furniture. Truly, we are an inspirational model of “keeping the flame alive” to couples everywhere.

Although we have worked through our home bit by bit, making it OURS (as opposed to THEIRS—in the case of layers of wallpaper and paint left us by the previous owners—or MINE and HIS as begat by various legacies of our pre-marriage artifacts), the family room—the main hanging-out room in our house—remained a mish-mash of blended family remnants. Otto brought The Man Couch into our marriage, and although it is brown and ugly, it is very comfortable. I, in turn, brought the Other Furniture in this room, a pretty love seat and easy chair/ottoman combo (from a former rarely-used living room) which aren’t uncomfortable, really, but are showing signs of wear now that they host energetic non-adults and small dogs with too-long nails on the regular.

So: Furniture for Christmas. Which really meant, furniture when we could get around to it. (more…)

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While we prepare for the Icepocalypse…

… I’m over at Alpha Mom, realizing that Duncan is teaching me a lot about what Chickadee needs.

[In case you don't live in the south or haven't seen the news, we are about to be slammed with an ice storm "of historical proportions." This is alarming, of course, but also comes with a side helping of my-parents-were-supposed-to-visit-but-ICE-STORM and a dessert of our local production of The Vagina Monologues was supposed to open tomorrow night and now we are delayed at the very least, if not canceled. In other words, I'm cranky, and after a morning of storm prep (firewood! batteries! charge all the devices! move the trampoline! bring the grill in to the screen porch!) I'm kind of freaked out, too. If you don't hear from me for a few days, please send gluten-free cookies and trashy novels.]

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A different kind of tough love

After the first time Licorice destroyed one of Duncan’s toys, I put away all of the stuffies for a while. We have some (relatively) indestructible dog toys, and things like tennis balls (motto: a super fun toy if you enjoy pooping out bits of felt), and that seems to keep the dogs happy.

Today, though, everyone needed a little cheering up. I found a battered old teddy bear in the bag of “Duncan’s stuff from before,” and his joy at rediscovering his old pal was… enthusiastic.

Duncan and The Bear from woulda on Vimeo.

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It has come to this

We are stuck at home, but are warm and fed and unscathed. This doesn’t make for scintillating blogging material, I’m afraid. (Dear World, Today I made banana bread while it snowed. Then the kids ate it. TRULY I AM A PIONEER. Love, Mir.)

Remember when I told you that Duncan plays for the Bats? He generally prefers to chew on Licorice, but when she tires of that, he does work on his football moves. Behold:

Snow Day: Dogs Gone Wild! from woulda on Vimeo.

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Hut hut hike! Oh boy!

The big, exciting news from here this week is that Duncan is finally the picture of health. His skin is pink and unblemished, his hair is growing back in where it had been lost, his face is free of irritation, his legs are working well… even his nails are neatly trimmed! Basically Duncan is the poster child for puppy rehabilitation (just so long as you don’t mind your perfect puppy looking like someone smashed him in the face with a frying pan, that is). I remain deeply aggravated by all the things that were wrong with him (and how uncomfortable he must’ve been, poor pumpkin) when he came to us, because I have very few skills, but holding a grudge is one of them.

Never before has a dog looked so perfect. I mean, he even strikes a pose for the camera:

(more…)

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Merry Christmas! (P.S. Not dead.)

Oh, look. I haven’t been here for a week. No explanation or anything, just *poof*—GONE. If it’s any consolation, that week took about three years, in my mind. What? That doesn’t help? Well, now I’m just going to make it worse by saying, “We are all fine (now) but due to the nature of this particular suckitude, I am not at liberty to discuss it at this time.” And now I want to punch myself in the face, so we’re all on the same page, I think.

[I know. I KNOW. Here, let me give you details as best I can: Something Really Scary And Sucky happened, and while we were trying to deal with that, Something Completely Unrelated But Equally Sucky happened. The first thing was no one's fault but the second one was 100% preventable with my general life mantra of "don't be an asshole" (which turns out to be really hard for some people). One situation is now cautiously resolved but the other may end up in a lawsuit and have I ever mentioned that I hate everything? Because sweet baby Jesus, I really kind of hate everything. And THEN my work computer died, because the only thing that week was missing was a giant, expensive inconvenience. Not that I was getting any work done last week, anyway, of course, but there you go.]

And how was YOUR week?

The good (?) news is that the dogs have definitely picked up on the recent stress and have decided to put aside their differences in the interests of a nightly snuggle:

If I’d managed Christmas cards this year, I would’ve used that picture. Peace on earth! Or at least peace on our couch. Those two little hairy beasties are helping to keep me sane, which we all know is no small task.

Here’s to a better week all around.

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Comments { 51 }

The State of the Duncan Address

We’ve crested the three-week mark with Duncan, so I thought you might like to know how he’s doing.

I’m kidding, of course. I don’t care if you care how he’s doing. He’s my SMUSHY LITTLE BABYKINS SWEETIEBOY and one of the only one of my children whose problems I can actually solve (the other one with solvable problems is, of course, Licorice), so I’m going to tell you about him whether you care or not. I’m selfish like that.

But seriously…


… if this face doesn’t make you start talking in a high-pitched baby voice, I just don’t know what to tell you. (more…)

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After this I’ll stop (maybe) (probably not)

The Great Doggie Integration Experiment of 2013 continues apace. Licorice continues to endure, while Duncan continues to try to figure out what in the world is happening. It turns out that his former owners weren’t kidding when they said he was “very food motivated,” so with liberal application of treats, we’re making good progress with him.

A fairly typical tableau.

(more…)

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Comments { 32 }
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