She didn’t stand a chance

Three days and six hours.  That’s how long we made it before we had a Christmas gift casualty.

We all knew it was bound to happen.  Every parent out there knows that, despite all the saving and planning that goes into Christmas, one of your little darlings is going to break one of their brand new presents before the week is over.  The Soby family clock stopped at 3 days and 6 hours.

Now, why am I handling this so well you ask?  Well, because the culprit here is my furry four-legged child, and I’m only out about eight dollars.

This is Lampchop.  She is a cute little dog toy I found for our Yorkie-Poo, Maddie, as a Christmas present.

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Maddie was so excited to open Lampchop.  She ripped her out of the box and drug her directly to the living room.  We laughed and smiled at her enthusiasm.  It’s always nice to see that your gift was a hit!

Well today, as I was in the middle of a Downton Abbey marathon (I started watching the other day and I’m HOOKED.  I’m knee-deep in Season 2 as I type.), I looked up and found this.

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Just look at the guilty look on her adorable little face!

Bad News:  The stuffing did not survive her destructive ways.  I used to wonder why they sold stuffing-less dogs toys.  I now have my answer.

Good News:  Lampchop will not need to join a gym this year, she is starting 2013 as a new, slimmed down version of herself!

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Who are these people?

So I’m strolling leisurely through the grocery store the other day.  Scratch that, I barreling through the aisles, throwing things into my cart, attempting to beat a land speed record because I LOATHE being at the grocery store.  It is a horrible place.  You move the same item at least six times just to get it home.  It’s a waste of time and so flipping expensive.  I wish I could do an I Dream of Jeannie head bob and have my shelves restocked, but, alas, no one has created that technology yet…

Anyway, I’m cruising down the aisle, navigating around the sale items and Halloween displays when I am stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of this.

 

Now I understand being an animal lover.  I love my puppy and my old-decrepid cats.  I consider them family members.  But subjecting your pet to this seems like cruel and unusual punishment.

 

He’s definitely not my father.  Heck, he’s probably not anyone’s father.  He’s most likely neutered.

I get the cut necker-chiefs and even the fancy beds, but this just seems over the top!

Plus, without opposable thumbs, Fido, I mean Yoda, could never hold his light saber.

I mean, really, who are these ridiculous people who would waste their hard earned money on silly get-ups for their pet?!?!?

 

Um…. Wait.  Nevermind.  Disregard.

 

Letting it all hang out

 

I’m not that parent who would allow our children to sleep in our bed.  My son never really tried.  He prefers his own bed and his own space.  My daughter on the other hand….

Paige tried about every hour to get permission to jump in and snuggle up, or more correctly, take over.  If Paige had just crawled in and went nighty-night, I might have considered it, but she tossed, turned, flailed, and flipped herself horizontally across the bed.  Sorry sweetheart, you’re cute, but you’re not sleeping in here.

Our peaceful, spacious sleeping arrangements were going so well….then we bought a puppy.  When the puppy was brand new, we closed her into our room, so that she couldn’t roam the house getting into things while we were sleeping or leave us unwanted surprises on the floors.

At first, she’d lay on the floor, looking up at the gigantic bed that her 3 pound frame couldn’t get up on…yet.  She quickly learned to channel her puppy power energy and leap up on top, finding its plush softness more appealing to the cold hard floor.

Bit by bit, she inched herself up from sleeping by my feet , to curling up in the crook of my legs, to this…

Please, by all means, make yourself at home.

 

Houdini

We have a little Yorkie-Poo (Yes, I have a ‘designer’ dog.  Please feel free to throw your insults now.  Done?  Cool!)  named Maddie, but this last week, she seems more like Houdini.

Yorkies’ are smart dogs, very smart.  She understands words and phrases you say to her.  She knows your schedule and what to expect when. Best of all, she’s fiercely protective of the members of the family.  Despite the fact she weighs only eight pounds and her mouth barely fits around a tennis ball, she has the bark of a Pit Bull and thinks she can take on the world if need be to protect her family.

Maddie has learned that at mealtimes, we will not feed her from the table or pet her.  But what she hasn’t given up on is the off-chance that we might play with her.  At first, she would drop a ball at someone’s feet, sit back, and give them, literally, her puppy dog eyes, hoping they would give in.

When that didn’t work, she began pushing her ball under the buffet and then barking at us to rescue her ball, hoping, again, that once we rescued it, we would throw it for her.  What she didn’t bank on was us being smart enough to watch her push her ball under and not fall for her ploy.

One night, after standing at the buffet, barking, and no ball being rescued, Maddie decided to rescue that ball herself.  But there was one little condition she didn’t factor in….. getting back out.

Good Luck Houdini!

P.S.  No puppies were injured in the making of this blog.

P.P.S.  Maddie did figure her way back out from under the buffet and has made a new game of it.

P.P.P.S.  Unfortunately, she has not yet remember to push the ball back out when she goes in after it!

Who are you talking to???

Ok, I’ll admit it.  I talk to myself.  I talk to myself ALOT.  I don’t see anything wrong with it.  I find it rather cathartic.  I talk out the steps to things I’m doing or planning on doing.  I talk to myself while I’m doing things, kind of like I’m my own motivational speaker.  This works especially well when I’m working out. 

I talk to myself when I have to have an uncomfortable conversation with someone.  I found this particularly helpful when I was a teenager and I was preparing my ‘defense’ or my version of the story for my parents.  Wait… What??  Scratch that, I was a perfect child.  I never had to bend the truth to get out of trouble.

I find where I truly excel at talking to myself is in the area of “I am so freakin’ teed off and I wish I’d have thought of this to say to you when I was talking to you!”  I’m really, really good at this one.  I can hash and re-hash a conversation or situation.  After the fact, I always come up with EXTREMELY witty things I could have said or more cleaver ways to say the things I did manage to get out of my mouth. 

In my head, I’m a conversational genius!  Unfortunately, I have to keep interacting with actual people…..