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- I finally took the Christmas decor down last week and now it is glaringly obvious that there is nothing hanging on the unpainted walls. My living room is basically a sterile environment. If you don’t count the Cheerio crumbs and dog hair. I started to pin ideas for the room so if you follow me on Pinterest, I apologize for the recent onslaught of photos of mantels and gallery walls. I would also love to paint, but the room is big and neither Michael nor I likes to paint. Hiring someone isn’t in the budget right now so either we suck it up and do it ourselves, or continue to live in the vast whiteness.
– Anyone remember when we watched my mother-in-law’s crazy dog last year? I swore it would not be a repeat thing, and yet, here we are one year later and about to embark on 13 days with Lucy. Last year she was skittish and whiny and afraid of men. Which meant that any time Michael would come into the house…she would pee. And then, to add icing to the cake, she freaked out and expressed her anal glands in my kitchen, and I’ll just take a moment to let that sink in.
Expressed her anal glands. In my kitchen.
That smell is burned in my memory and so help me, if she does it again I am shipping her off to Florida so my MIL an deal with it. So, SO gross.
– Speaking of my MIL, she bought a cow. Not a whole cow, not even half of a cow. She bought something like a fourth of a cow so we could split it between us. Only, we don’t really eat that much red meat. Maybe once or twice a month. She was insistent, however, so now the entire bottom half of my freezer if filled with beef. Because even splitting up a fourth of a cow is still hundreds of pounds of cow. I’m not kidding when I tell you this meat will last us a year, maybe more. There’s just so.much.beef. I’m going to have to host a beef party or something just to put a dent in it.
Except a beef party sounds disgusting. No one would come if I cordially invited them to a beef party. Or they would, but they would think it was an entirely different type of party with a whole different kind of beef, if you catch my drift. And that would be awkward.
We’re dog sitting for my mother-in-law while she’s in Florida. For 10 days. She goes a few times a year and in the past we’ve driven back and forth to her house to let her dog out, or alternated with a neighbor to save us a trip or two. She lives about 20 minutes away, though, so the back and forth three times a day is just too much and too inconvenient now that we have Owen.
There was something lost in translation this time, though, because we didn’t quite understand that we had agreed to dog sit for a week and a half…until we were. So we are.
Lucy is a lab and just over a year or so old. I think. She was rescued from a “kill shelter” down south and brought up here. She is sweet, but also nuts and skittish and while I completely understand that given her unknown background, and the fact that she’s basically a puppy and not at all like the giant breed we’re used to…she’s driving me crazy.
She knows “sit”, but barely. Other than that, she responds to no other commands. Owen has started mimicking me and now runs around yelling, “DOWNNNN, U-CEE!”, which I must say a hundred times. She’s house-trained, but pees whenever Michael comes in the house.
Kodiak…well, he’s being a really good sport. But Lucy is like the little annoying sister he never had, and probably never wanted. She climbs all over him and trips him up, and while he basically sits there and takes it…
“W T EFFFFF is this crap?”
…he has certainly lost his patience a time or two and knocked her around a little.
Owen alternates between thinking U-Cee is hilarious, and outright yelling AHHHHH in her face when she comes near him. I guess he’s used to our big lump of Newfie and doesn’t know what to make of the crazy either.
We’re got six days left with Lucy. It’s really too bad I can’t open a bottle of wine right now.
14-week belly says get out of the way, dog! You’re blocking the mac and cheese. (I can blame her for the dirty mirror too, right?)