Monday, November 15, 2004


I think I should mention that in the menagerie that is my home, i.e. the two dogs, the fish, the mourning doves that nest in our hanging fuchsia on the balcony, Manpants and occasionally me, the house is very full of Life. And sometimes these life forms go into your stuff, take things off tables and out of drawers…and eat them. Okay, Manpants hasn’t done that in a long time, but one of my precious pups (the pit bull-Jack Russell terrier mix that is a year and a half old) likes to run willy nilly through the house when we’re gone and have her version of fun. I can almost hear her running around yelling “Weeeeeeeeee!” as I write this. I am not sure what the other NORMAL and too cool for private school scruffy mutt does when she goes on her adventures. He doesn’t stop her, that’s for sure. Now, some of you who know the virtues of crate training…to you I say, yeah, sure, fine, whatever. Too many hours for me to be comfy. My strangely wired mind goes quickly to fantasies of fire, flood, locust swarm or stampede of terribly angry Peruvian Llamas that level my home while my poor dog is quietly minding her own business in her crate. Nope. Not gonna do it. Just this evening, one of my lab partners in my Biology class borrowed my pink stapler and commented on the chewed and mangled state that it is in. Yes, she extracted the stapler from my book bag and did her worst. She got that out and a small bag of almonds that I had in there for those times when I want a little snack. She ate them and left me an empty wrapper on the floor. What can I say. It still works. The stapler, I mean. I will also comment here that I have already mentioned my abhorrence to pink and I don’t know how I ended up with a pink stapler. I’m starting to be alarmed and have an appointment with my physician to check my meds a week from Wednesday.

I will state at this time that this precious princess has managed to figure out the complexities of childproof locks on cabinets and spent an entire week not long ago taking all the Tupperware out of one cabinet and carefully arranging it in an obstacle course pattern throughout the living room. Apparently leaving them in the kitchen was out of the question. We finally got better locks for the cabinets, so she has graduated to pulling things off counter tops and table tops. Like an entire box of Gevalia coffee - which is very finely ground for any of you who might not know and who have never received that free sample in the mail that suckers you into buying a few months supply – and takes ages to vacuum out of the carpet. I’m pretty sure that one was the one that had her running around yelling “Weeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” all consumed with glee and my week’s supply of caffeine.

Tonight the object of her desire that was tantalizing her from its perch on the dining room table, was my copy of Hamlet. Apparently she is also rather refined in her choice of reading material. The fact that I actually need that copy of the play to do my paper on the graveyard scene in Act V was not really of major concern to her. Her Dog given right to mangle Hamlet was, in her limited attention span, equal to her right to mangle the box of tampons in the grocery bag that was on the counter. Both are paper products that have things in them that Mommy needs.



Blogger R said...

Okay..what is it with Jack Russels? Are they like the sluts of every neighborhood or WHAT?!! Everyone I know has a Jack Russel/something. We have a Jack Russel/shi Tzu mix. Go here
to see my little darling. That is my husbands totally worthless blog, so don't bother reading beyond the pic. Now..for the crate. I felt the EXACT same way you do about kennels until my precious darling ate a razor blade and cost me a years salary in surgical bills. Then I got religion. My vet was right. They tear up stuff because they have separation anxiety. Dog's are cave dwellers. The kennel is their cave. While it seems cruel.. they actually prefer it to being out alone. They only whine cause they think they are missing out on being with YOU, not because they feel confined. That being said, I got mine the biggest one they make. He could do backflips in there. He sleeps on an old cashmere sweater that is on top of a torn 600 thread count sheet. He is in heaven.(He fought it for a few weeks, but then he decided it was actually cool. Never tell them they are Bad and then put them in there. It has to be doggie spa time) He goes in there BY HIMSELF now. I only put him in when it is bed time or I go out. He actually would like to go in other times but I have to keep it "special." I'd investigate them for your sanity. Get the plastic box like ones, if you do, not the cage. The cage doesn't say "cozy cave" it says "I'm over here and your not" Good luck. THat dog is precious!!

16 November, 2004 03:21  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey! I have a pink stapler too! And a dog that likes to get into stuff when I'm not home (think: used feminine products in the waste basket. Scattered all over the bathroom floor....and chewed and shredded. OK, don't think about it. Ewwww.)

We're practically related.


18 November, 2004 06:07  

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