Friday, April 03, 2009
not so much "puppy"
So apparently the lady who sent me the picture of the puppy and I had a misunderstanding on the whole age thing...
I heard "three months" and saw the picture and thought I was getting a puppy. Apparently she had already owned the dog for three months and she said she got him when he was three months old which would make him more like six months old.
His age doesn't bother me. In fact, I wanted a dog that was old enough to hold his pee from bedtime until morning. I consider that particular ability to be a good one.
I was a little concerned about how it would all fly once I got the little dude home.
When I went to meet the person who was getting rid of him, it was... well, interesting covers it. She was very obviously one of those people who gets puppy for her kids and when the puppy stops being cute and starts needing to be trained, it's too much work. She openly admitted to a few things that solidified to me that I had made a good choice.
She had moved from a house where she had a back yard to an apartment. This isn't to say that I think that that people who live in apartments shouldn't have dogs. Lots of people who live in apartments are good dog owners. This chic wasn't.
Once she moved into the apartment, the doggie pretty much lived in the kennel. When they were gone, he was crated. At night, he was crated.
She did say she walked him twice a day.
The last thing that really killed me was when she told me "his muzzle is in the bag"... I was like what? He has a muzzle?
She then went on to explain that whenever she did let him out of the kennel in the apartment, she kept him muzzled so he wouldn't chew on things.
Wow. Yeah because puppies shouldn't be allowed to have anything to chew on.
He was absolutely a rude little thing when I arrived, all excited and jumping up on me. And for someone who is being walked twice a day, he has no idea how to behave on a leash. But he is a sweet boy. And just in the hour he spent in the car with me, I already had him obeying my "NO" when he started trying to chew on stuff in the backseat. I redirected him by giving him a bone and he was perfectly content with that. He just wants to break in all those baby teeth.
When we got him home Tucker was in HEAVEN. He and Tucker ran around the yard all afternoon just like ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, there is dog here, he wants to play with me, holy shit, let's run over here, did I show you this part of the yard yet? What's that smell? ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!
Lila was a little less excited since she doesn't like to share Tucker and Chica just smelled him and then looked at me like really? You couldn't have gotten another plant instead? At least we know when you get a plant that it will be gone in a few months. And then she walked back inside and climbed under the blankets on my bed where she resigned herself again to this life where she has to deal with other canine animals. Oh, the horror.
Fairy, who works at a Vet Clinic, was there yesterday afternoon and she said that she doesn't think he is six months old, maybe three or four and that he is going to be BIG. We will take him in to get shots and neutered next week and get all the info we can from our vet. The lady said his mother is full blooded husky and the dad was a border collie but Fairy says no. She says the husky is there but that he looks like he's crossed with a shepherd.
The girls of course love him. Technically, he is Amanda's dog. And if she is actually as responsible as she wants to be, then he will stay that way.
I don't think it should be too hard for her since he came in last night, went straight into his crate by her bed and went to sleep and we never heard a peep out of him all night long. Tucker wore his ass out.
His name? Well, they had named him "Moo" because he looks like a cow with his spots, she said. So we wanted to keep the name similar to the one he already had although I personally don't think it would have made any difference as I truly don't think he knew his own name at all. Amanda named him Blue. Noah calls him Moose. So his official doggie name? Blue Moose.
Labels: Amanda, Blue Moose, Chica, Lila, Noah, Tucker
Friday, November 21, 2008
Again with the pictures!
First, before the pics, I want to show ya'll my new avatar from
http://www.faceyourmanga.com/.
Ok, now onto the pics...
More to come :)
Labels: Amanda, Lila, Ruthie, Triniti, Tucker
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Today on The Holy Shit Show
So we haven't seen or talked to the boy since Tuesday... that would be the same day in which we discovered that he is a little slimy weasel that we don't want to play with anymore.
Yesterday we were training in Town An Hour Away to do job of The Chic We Never Really Got Along With. Now, we weren't training because we are planning to do her job but because we needed to be cross trained to cover for her should she take a vacation or get sick or not show up (as she is prone to doing).
But we never intended to actually have her job.
Especially not recently when she has seemed to be on her game.
Yesterday, we got Some Dirt on The Slimy Weasel (has a nice ring to it doesn't it?)...
[What is it called when one refers to them self as a "we" for an entire blog post?]
So we are d-y-i-n-g to hear The Dirt but somehow get roped into lunch at The Awesomest Place In The World (for those of you not in the know, that would be Olive Garden) and so we couldn't call her on our lunch break and had to wait two more excruciating hours until we were driving home to get The Dirt.
[It isn't third person... Help a sister out...]
So when we are finally free and in our Brand New Freestyle... with leather and a moon roof driving home, we dial up for The Dirt and snuggle into our leather seat for the hour drive and hopefully an hours worth of good Dirt.
Sadly The Dirt was all confirming what we posted on Tuesday about how The Previously Adorable and Super Nice Cute Boy at work is actually a Slimy Weasel. And he isn't even a Smart Slimy Weasel. He is instead a dumbass. He is going around work telling people about how he is juggling multiple chics and all freaking out that they will find out about each other.
Did I mention that he is doing this AT WORK?
You know, where one of the chics he is "juggling" happens to spend fifty hours of her week?
Well lucky for him, there is now one less chic to be juggled.
There is one more chic to watch out for "accidentally" kicking you in the nuts, but one less chic to worry about juggling.
Armed with this news since Tuesday and only just having it confirmed yesterday, we had been trying to decide how exactly we wanted to react.
Did we want to pretend we didn't know and just cold shoulder the boy out?
Did we want to send The Slimy Weasel a nasty email telling him he is a Slimy Weasel?
Did we want to act like we didn't know and pull the "I've decided to see someone else" card?
Did we want to slash his tires?
Did we want to sit down and tell him we know he is a Slimy Weasel and stupid to boot for blabbing at work?
There were so many choices...
And we really couldn't pick one.
So we thought about it all day yesterday while we were training in Town An Hour Away... we thought about it when we were driving... we thought about it while we were making dinner... we thought about it while we were dropping The Girls off at Softball Practice... we thought about it while we were walking Tucker... we thought about it while we laid in bed last night... we thought about it when we talked to Snakeman...
We thought about it a lot and really couldn't quite come to a decision.
So this morning when we got to work and were talking to Snow on the phone and we saw that he was already here and we still hadn't made up our mind as to what we were going to do, we panicked a little.
[It's called referring to yourself in the plural. I'm totally referring to myself in the plural. I wonder why... Maybe I'm lonely...]
So we told Snow that we had to run because we were at work and we had to face The Music. (The Music = The Slimy Weasel in this case...)
Somewhere in between the car and the seeing The Slimy Weasel for the first time today, we decided to act like nothing had ever happened and that we didn't know that anything had happened.
Why?
We aren't sure.
[You know the Empress from The Never Ending Story totally referred to herself in the plural all the time, like the whole movie. Didn't she?]
Probably because we don't want waves. We are Anti-Waves as it were and have a tendency to avoid them. Like the plague. Also because we are professional. We don't want to create a crappy workplace even if
some people apparently don't give two shits about wave making and crappy workplace promoting...
The fact is that there isn't anything that can be done.
A mistake was made (this would be a judgment mistake on my part and a moral mistake on his, I believe) and it can't be reversed and since The Universe has yet to instill in me the right to inflict karmic punishment on others in her name, what's a girl to do?
Except let it go.
Does this mean I will continue sleeping with The Slimy Weasel? It does not. It means that I will be just as nice as I was previous to his transition from Cute New Boy to his current status.
I am going rewind to November and start over.
I am going to be the nice rockin' chic that I have always been and take The Sex off the table. Because he so doesn't deserve The Sex.
And my gut tells me that he will at some point try and get The Sex again and when he does? I will so totally tell him that I know about him being a Slimy Weasel and that no, he cannot get The Sex from me any more.
That's right.
[Ha! I stopped! I'm back to first person! Go me!]
So here's the thing, I get to work today and The Slimy Weasel is totally acting like he was before. All nice and hanging out and
flirting. And I'm all looking for that iron box to put my not-able-to-withstand-kryptonite feelings into. Because even though we know that The Slimy Weasel is a Slimy Weasel, the flirting still somehow makes our stomach do flip flops.
[Damn it, I started again! Stop it Kate! I think it has to do with
him.]
Anyway, he is all back to his old tricks... you remember them right? Check out October of '06 if you've forgotten.
Oh and for you hard core LOC junkies? October of '06 isn't the only place I've hidden Top Secret Posts.
They are riddled through out this blog.
Riddled I tell you.
His old tricks? They suck because I have to remind my too-forgiving self that we don't like his punk ass anymore.
Note to Self: We. Don't. Like. His. (Charming). Punk-Ass. Any. Fucking. More. Damn. It.
Then, around 8:03am, my Boss comes in and closes my door and lets me know that I am being "promoted" into The Chic We Never Really Got Along With's job. Because she is being fired/let go/quitting. And so I am getting a raise (yay!) and bonuses (double yay!) but I am spending the next two weeks learning how to do her job. And then the next several months trying to balance her job and my current job (and really earning the raise/bonuses).
But I can so totally do it.
And I know it and my boss knows it and apparently
his boss knows it too.
Just so long as I can find some repellant for The Slimy Weasel so that I stop being tempted to forgive his lying ass and hop back into bed with him. What the fuck is wrong with me anyway that a day of him being charming is all it takes for me to want to let it go? I am severely damaged.
Severely.
I so just sat here for like five minutes and debated deleting all of that Super Honesty above about The Slimy Weasel because I don't want you all thinking I am a Loser Chic.
But I can't.
Because that just wouldn't be keeping it real.
And those of us that speak of ourselves in the plural? We especially have to keep it real.
Labels: At work, Being a Chic, Being Retarded, Dating, I'm a loser, my crazy life, My pathetic excuse for a love life, self loathing, Snakeman, The Universe, Tucker
Monday, January 14, 2008
The only reason I would take up exercising is so that I could hear heavy breathing again.
I know, I've barely been posting but I am ridiculously busy both professionally, parentally and personally. Yup, I've got all of the P's covered.
As I mentioned in
the doggy post, I am moving. (*
knock on wood!*) We are set to close on the house on the 21st and move in that weekend. On account of that, I have been packing like a mo-fo. So my month has went kinda like this:
December 29th - January 2nd -- packing
January 3rd & 4th -- work
January 5th & 6th -- packing
January 7th - 11th -- start working with new construction boss, become hella-busy
January 12th - 13th -- packing
Here is how the rest of my month will play out:
January 14th - 18th -- work, includes taking Em to work on the 14th for doctor's apointment, taking Trin to therapy on the 15th and having a construction meeting with the regional VP on the 18th with a training session afterwards hosted by moi for new construction assistant.
January 19th - 20th -- PACKING
January 21st - January 25th -- work, includes closing on house on the 21st, parent teacher conferences for all three girls, begin moving boxes into new house, changing all of my utilites over and ending with our company Quarterly Meeting on Friday
January 26th - January 27th -- OFFICIAL MOVE IN WEEKEND, you know, where you put all of your furniture together and start sticking your shit into cabinets, the official unpacking will happen the following weekend.
All of this is going on while potty training our new puppy, Tucker. He is hella cute and does all the typical annoying puppy stuff. His favorite things: chewing on shit he isn't supposed to, eating his food and water bowls when they are empty, pooping in my room, giving me puppy eyes whenever I catch him, pushing Chica towards suicide, finding puddles to roll around in, being super adorable. We dig him.
Hey, did I mention that I AM BUYING A HOUSE?
(*
knock on wood*)
Labels: Being Mommy, Chica, Emilee, my crazy life, Triniti, Tucker
Thursday, January 10, 2008
While checking the answering machine yesterday...
"Tucker? Tucker are you barking? I said
no barking.
No barking. You be a good puppy boy Tucker. And Chica puppy girl? I know you are such a good girl. Chica's a good puppy girl. No barking. Be good puppies and no barking."
Noah mysteriously vanished from the house while I was listening to this message.
Labels: Chica, Noah, Tucker
So apparently the lady who sent me the picture of the puppy and I had a misunderstanding on the whole age thing...
