Two Tickets To The Looney Bin

Monday morning, 8:00 a.m. I took Gus in for his annual puppy exam. They told me mostly stuff that I already know…he is a fatty and stuff. Then I started mentioning stuff about how he cries like it’s the end of the world in the car and how he is scared of the kitchen floor and the vet was like…um…crazy?

Now I know that I am crazy. I came to that realization a long time ago and I am fully comfortable with my wacky ways. But when the doc suggested puppy Prozac to fight my pooch’s apparent clinical depression and anxiety…I had to wonder…did I make him lose his mind?

People often note the similarities between pets and their owners, but usually that is some flappy-jowled old man with a bull dog or something. But is it possible that the similarities are more than skin deep? Because God knows that I have a chocolate brown block head with crazy wrinkles, but is it possible that he has acquired my insanity as well?

Well, at least I’ll get to bring him with me when they commit me.

Nothing Like It

There really is nothing like stepping into a warm pool of vomit. Really…I would know…I just did it. Apparently Talulah’s stomach upset from the other night has continued. I just walked around the corner to fill the doggie water bowl and like a horrible car wreck…it was all slow motion. I lifted my foot and was in the process of setting it back down when I noticed the damp and chunky look of the linoleum. I couldn’t stop it…it was already in motion. I landed my foot square in the middle of the puke and splashed it all up my other leg.

Awesome.

I have to go take a shower now before I go see my celebrity sister in her show.

Sheeeeeeeeeees Baaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Miss me?

Of course you did. *hug*

Forgive my week-long…I mean month-long…holy-shit-has-it-been almost-three-months?-hiatus.

“Where have you been?” You might ask, “Something very important must have happened to pull you away from your ten faithful readers.”

Not so much actually. I’ve just been feeling lazy. Yep…that is it…my big excuse.

But I am back and fully committed to my regular posting schedule. I have so many stories to tell you all:

How about the one where I managed to inadvertently turn Gus into a racist dog? Or how Talulah puked on my bare foot just 3 hours ago? Or how that whole school thing from my previous post makes me (on my best days) want to spoon my eyes out and change careers altogether because I am a talentless waste of space who make hideously-literal and over-commercialized excuses for design?

But we will save those stories for another day…

Oh-Eight!

Yeah…so '07 had its ups and downs…but all in all…in the top 50th percentile of good years. '08…now this is a different story. It is gonna ROCK! How do I know? Because…here is my list of resolutions that are going to aid in making 2008 the greatest year of Ashley’s life to date. I will:

• Blog more - I know this is the most important one to you. November wore me out…but I am back.
• Not go crazy - This is key. I did a pretty good job this year and the year before. But '04-'05…yipes stripes.
• Get a few more friends - Not that my current three friends aren’t enough…but I would like to be able to have enough people to put on my myspace top 4 to not include my sister’s ex-cat’s space. Miss you Fred.
• Win the lottery - You might say…that is a stupid resolution…you have no control over that. Well you might be right…but I have just as much chance of winning the lottery as improving my diet and exercise habits so why not?
• Get out of scary debt and into that good kind of debt that people talk about - Yes…I admit it. I am one of those morons who bought a house that she really can’t afford and is presently being reamed by my mortgage payment. Save the lecture…I know it by heart. So I am gonna take advantage of our brilliant president’s misplaced pity and get me a better loan.
• Train my monsters to be dogs - I watched the Dog Whisperer marathon…piece of cake.

So yeah…'08…it is gonna ROCK!

If You're a Slacker and You Know It...Clap Your Hands

I fully intended to end my brief-post streak today as I am finally home and had more than five minutes to myself for the first time in weeks. But that didn’t happen. Instead, I decided to spend all day catching up on my Ugly Betty and Chuck and snuggling with my puppies. I thought I could multitask with the blogging and snuggling…but Gus was pressing so closely that single-handed typing was as much as I could muster.

So yeah…this is what you get. Live with it.

My Little Living Garbage Disposal

Here is a close up of my special pumpkin from Halloween:

Concerned about the hoodlums in my neighborhood and the safety of my work of art, I brought the pumpkins inside for the night. When I got home from work yesterady...this is what I discovered:

Notice the difference? It is subtle…but if you look hard you can see that…oh…the little pumpkin is missing. “Where could it go?” you might ask. It doesn’t have legs…it can’t just walk away. I searched the house, looking for some trace of my little pumpkin. I found none…until I went out to do my daily pooper-scooper duty. Ah…I see (don’t worry I will spare you the photo of that one).

Apparently Gus got a little snackish in the middle of the night and decided to help himself to a midnight pumpkin nibble.

Not that this behavior is all that shocking. Gus has a habit of eating questionable things. Rags, earrings, my face…but the most disturbing thing he ever ate has burned an image on my mind…nylons. Seems rather harmless right? Think again. The eating and swallowing of the nylons was not the bad part. The disturbing part was when he came tearing through the house butt tucked under him, squealing and looking back at the thing trailing behind him. The elasticity of nylons might be helpful in smoothing ripples in thighs…but not so good for the digestive track. I donned my dish gloves and assisted my pup with his…ok…I’ve relived enough…you get the picture. Anyway…the hoodlum kids didn’t get my pumpkins…instead it was my hoodlum dog.

A Fine Line Between Love and Torture

I went to Target last night after work. I did my normal path…I started looking at purses and scarves and hats, moved on towards cards and candles, breezed through house wares, dillydallied in the sporting goods and came face to face with my nemesis…doggie section…dun dun DUNNNNN!

As much as I tell myself that purse dogs and animals in sweaters are ridiculous…I am drawn to the array of designer doggiewear that sits before me. Gus likes clothes (maybe he doesn’t, but I tell myself that he is cold and needs to wear a sweater when we go to the outside hour-long puppy good citizenship class) and so he has his pumpkin costume (cause he’s my little punkin’) that he puts up with for the 15 minutes that I make him wear it to take a picture with my phone and send it to everyone I know.

Talulah…different story. She even chews holes in her leash…she is not a fan of constricting cloth. But while at target I found this…OMG…how can I resist? Luckily…all of the remaining costumes were in teacup size, so she got of scoff free…this year. But then I went online and found this…next Halloween is going to be AWESOME!

I continued my trek through the Target store and past the mountains of Halloween candy without buying any…ok fine…I bought a bag…ok fine…I bought three…but they were on sale…three for $5…and who cares if I didn’t have a single kid come to my house last year…maybe this year will be different…either that or I will eat three bags of candy by myself…again. Tis the season…for pulling out the fat clothes.

Nature or Nurture?…You Be the Judge.

I was writing an instructional letter to a friend who is going to feed my dogs, and while reading it back, the sheer ridiculousness of my animals finally struck me. I thought I would share an excerpt of this letter with you for your entertainment/disapproval/amazement:

The dog food is in the laundry room. I recommend filling the bowls on the ironing board, because if you do it on the floor they will knock it all over and probably knock you on your ass.

When you are filling the bowls, Talulah will start on your left and Gus on your right. Fill the scoop even with the top and put one scoop in each bowl, at which point they will switch sides (so don’t trip on them). Close the food container before you put the bowls down or else they will knock it over.

When you pick up the bowls, Talulah will jump up and down a little while Gus will crouch down and skid himself along the wall and then in a circular pattern into the family room. Straddle the doorway between the laundry room and the family room and tell them to sit. Tell them to “leave it” (several times as you put the bowls down…one in front of Gus in the family room and one in front of Talulah in the laundry room). Tell them “ok” and they will begin to scarf down their food (it only takes about 30 seconds). As soon as they start eating….close the laundry room door between them.

Gus will finish first, so wait another 10 seconds or so to let Talulah out and then pick up their bowl immediately. Congratulations…you have fed them.

Wow…I should probably give her a medal just for attempting to feed these monsters. I won't even go into the why...but just trust me when I tell you that every detail in this is necessary.

Puppy Love

I worked from home today. The best part about working at home is that I get to spend my day with my puppies. They are hardly puppies anymore, but I call them that to fool myself into thinking that their bad behavior is because they are still young and mischievous and not because I am a bad doggie momma.



Bailey and Morgan are their names but those names are all wrong. They were chosen with the family pet naming convention of all names having to do with alcoholic beverages, previous names include Brandy and Corky (I named him pre Life Goes On, and that caused all sorts or inappropriate “special” jokes throughout my childhood). So since I can’t rename them for fear of confusion when asking them to sit and stuff, I will rename them for blogging purposes to what they should be called, Gus and Talulah.



Gus is a love bug…some people seem to think he is autistic…but he isn’t…he is just a lump who happens to be a afraid of hardwood floors, plastic bags and hates it when he gets dingleberries.



Talulah is a feisty piece of work. She has what they call an overactive prey drive. Some of her victims have been a wasp, a small injured bird and even a squirrel…I will spare you the details of what she did to Ella the squeaky stuffed Elephant…it is not pretty. But check out those eyelashes…wouldn’t you just kill for that come hither look.

So I know that this post was kinda like the shameless, look at my cute kids, aren’t they cuter than yours thing. But that is ok. They are.