The Post I Just Can't Blog About

So, like a month ago, I was gonna blog and tell you all about the 4LeggedCreature. But, no matter how many times I tried, I just couldn't do it. I even took pictures. But I couldn't post them.

What I was gonna blog about was the fact that for quite some time I had been contemplating finding a new home for our dog, Kayli. I was gonna explain to you (before you all jump on me for being cold and heartless) that we just simply could not care for her anymore.

I was gonna explain that when we got her, things were different here. I had a job that was flexible; I could work from home most days. I was married then. We had two incomes. My children were more involved with Kayli and we all seemed to have more time.

I was also going to say that when we first got Kayli, she was about 8 weeks old. We picked the small, QUIET one from the litter. I think perhaps now, looking back, I had mistook her anxiety for QUIET. She was a shy puppy. I thought it was cute. Within 2 months Kayli discovered she could bark; then I couldn't get her to stop.

And then things changed, you see. But I wasn't going to blog about that. I wasn't going to say that my world was turned upside down. I had thinking to do and choices to make. Choices that would affect the rest of my life and undoubtedly the lives of my children. There were a plethora of issues which I cannot even begin to go into. Suffice it to say, I made the decision to get divorced. I worried about the effects it would have on my children. I didn't know if we'd be able to keep Kayli; but we did.

As time went on, I had to work an 8-5 job outside of the home. The kids grew older and got busier. The pooch was often forgotten. Hardly a walk, hardly any play time. Then the neighbor's fence broke in the back corner. Kayli figured out how to escape and run the neighborhood. Fearing she'd get picked up by Animal Control (and fearing I'd get slapped with a fine I could not afford), we could no longer let her out to run and play as she pleased.

Then our street got busier. The train station opened at the end, and people started walking up and down our street from the bus stop to the train station all day long. And the dog would just sit and bark out the window ALL.THE.TIME. I feared that with me not home during the day, Kayli was not getting any rest away from the 6'x8' window. Even when I shut the curtains, all 18 lbs of her managed to tear them down so she could SEE.

Then Kayli started throwing up her food EVERY.TIME. I took her for her annual vet-check back in January. All was well...except she has high anxiety, said the vet. I agonized over this... (and the Vet bill). I knew that it just could not be good for this little dog to have so much anxiety and stress.

Then there were times in which I stressed over putting food on my own table, let alone in the dog dish. I knew. I knew then that I had to find her a new home. I had the discussion with the off-spring. There were tears. There were crusties. I persevered. I decided it was still the best thing all around.

But I couldn't let just anyone adopt Kayli. I received several email responses to my "Free Dog to Good Home" ad.

One response said: "i like you dog. i had one dog. but it got stoled. i live in moab. you drive here to bring me dog. ok. please reply. i like you dog." I was like, YEAH! RIGHT! First of all...HOW, Pray tell, did your other dog get "stoled"??? And second of all, I am NOT driving FOUR FREAKING HOURS to GIVE you a dog, so you can PRETEND to want it but instead, RAPE me and KILL me and LEAVE MY BODY TO ROT IN THE DESERT!!!!! NO WAY!

A few families came to look at Kayli. One had a little 2 year old boy that had a high-pitched scream in which he constantly demonstrated, compounded by his stomping feet. Kayli did not like that at all. She was very on edge around him.

After several "interviews", I finally found a good prospect. A woman, Meg, who has diabetes, had been in a car accident a year ago and both of her legs had to be amputated. Her hubby works long hours and travels quite a bit. The family didn't want Meg to be by herself all the time, so her sister built an apartment for her in their daylight basement, complete with a concrete ramp and everything. Meg has no children, and with hubby gone all.the.time., she was getting lonely. Her in-home nurse got a puggle last Christmas and would bring her by sometimes for Meg to see. Meg fell in love with the puggle and wanted one. She found my ad. We talked on the phone several times. She explained that she had a fully fenced backyard. She said that because they live in the basement apartment, her "front" window faces the back yard. No traffic for Kayli to bark at. And Meg has a motorized wheelchair and already goes on daily "walks" herself. Her husband was out of town at the time, and my children were with their dad. They had already told me that they were tired of the "interviews" and it was too painful to see their dog go. I felt in my heart that Meg was an answer to prayer.

I asked Big-D to be my emotional support. He agreed. We loaded up Kayli and all of her belongings and records and headed out to Meg's house. I was nervous the entire 30 minute drive. We got there. I knocked. Meg came to the door. We went in and to my surprise, Kayli did not bark. Not once. In fact, this is the FIRST person Kayli has never barked at... ever! We let her off the leash and she roamed and sniffed. Meg and I talked, and I felt good about the situation. When Big-D & I turned to leave, Kayli went to the door to go too. I told her, no... she was going to stay with her new mommy. Kayli was confused. She went over to Big-D, and tried to get him to take her. He patted her a few times and said, "I think the jig is up." I picked up Kayli and got her to go to Meg. I was surprised that she sat still. Big-D even got a picture so I could show the kids (and put it on the blog).

That night I went home to an empty house and empty bed. My feet were cold. A few times throughout the night, I scooted over to find Kayli to snuggle up to, before remembering she was gone. But I wasn't going to blog about that, cuz it is just too hard. The first 48 hours were the hardest. It was sort of a let down to come home from work and not have anyone be excited about it. No tail-wagging. No jumping around. No "Squealing" like she did.

I confessed this to Big-D. "Awww... you miss her!" he exclaimed. I'm not going to post about him being right. I worried how Kayli's first night went. Then Luckily the next morning I got this text from Meg:

"I just want to say thanks again for Kayli. She is such a beautiful dog. I just LOVE her."

I replied, "Oh good. I was worried how her first night went."

Meg texted back, "It took her a few minutes to warm up, but she is doing great. I just LOVE her. Thanks again! And feel free to check in any time."

So, I hope you understand why I just can't blog about Kayli and her new home...

Glutton For Punishment

I try. Mostly, I do. Ok, sometimes I do. I try to make sure everyone in the household is eating good, healthy well-balanced meals. However, much of the time, I admit, we are eating on-the-run. So, it's quick fixes and easy-to-make dishes. Quesadillas, Tacos, Grilled Cheese, steamed veggies in those new awesome steamer bags you stick in the microwave and the like. If all else fails, in response to their "what's for dinner" petitions, I call out, "Cereal. Sandwiches. Whatever you can find." Sometimes, to some children, that means the entire apple pie sitting on the wire rack to cool. To another child, he may have thought that meant chocolate ice cream for breakfast. And as of late, even my healthy-eater, PrettyPrettyPrincess has resorted to junk in a pinch. Whaddya do, right? I mean, it's not like they're starving. Though, if you ask LittleDuckling, he may just inform you otherwise.

LittleDuckling has quite the insatiable appetite. He is always starving! Not only that, but he has quite the palatable appetite too. No ordinary PB&J for this kid. He is opening that pantry and/or fridge door at least 10 times a night. I am just glad that his metabolism and/or good genes keeps him from being overweight.

Here's the dialogue that occurs all too often, and usually starts about an hour after dinner, and almost always just after I've gotten on my jammies and snuggled in bed, working on my laptop.

LittleDuckling: [calling out] I'm Starving!
Me: [calling out back]Well, find a snack.
LittleDuckling: We have NOTHING GOOD to eat!
Me: There's apple slices and yogurt in the fridge.
LittleDuckling: I don't want that.
Me: Well, there's crackers in the pantry. Or have a bowl of cereal.
LittleDuckling: [whimpering noises]
Me: Fine, get some fruit snacks or a LittleDebbie or something.
LittleDuckling: We're all out.
Me: Well, whaddya want me to do about it?
LittleDuckling: I just want something good...like do we have Shrimp or Ribs or Mashed Potatoes or chocolate cake or something like any of that?
Me: What the freak? No. We just ate dinner! Whaddya think I am - a restaurant?
LittleDuckling: I'm still hung-ry! I can't help it.
Me: Well, you'd better find something fast, cuz the kitchen's closed and if I have to get outta bed to find you a snack, you're not gonna like what I fix you.
LittleDuckling: Like what?
Me: Grits or Chamomile tea or something.
LittleDuckling: [grunts] Fine. I'll just have some toast or crackers.
Me: [to myself] Crap! Grits and Chamomile both sound good right now.
Me: [calling out] Hey, buddy? Still out there? Wanna fix Mommy some grits or tea

no response.
Me: Anyone out there? Anyone?

I debate getting out of bed for an evening snack... nah... not worth it.

Anyway, our pantry door doesn't latch shut properly unless you sort of lean against it. Well, like LittleDuckling, the pooch has quite the insatiable appetite too. Aw, who am I kidding? She's one gluttonous mutt.

Like LittleDuckling, 4LeggedCreature thinks she is starving. She also has a palatable appetite. She gets easily bored with her mundane day-in and day-out everyday diet dog food. Can't say as I blame her though. How many of us could eat the same exact thing everyday? But unlike LittleDuckling, 4LeggedCreature is overweight.

Anyway, back to the story. 4LeggedCreature has phenomenal hearing. She can be all the way downstairs, in the boy's closet sniffing out whatever moldy sock is lurking in the corner and as soon as she hears that pantry door open, she is front and center. She can be all the way in the back forty, barking loudly at the neighbor's dog...but when that pantry door opens, she is at the door - PRONTO - ready to be let in.

4LeggedCreature gets especially excited when she finds that LittleDuckling is the one in the pantry. Thus because she knows her chances are greater when he's home, since he is the one most in the pantry and because she knows that he will be so focused on the food, he will forget to lean against the door, double checking to make sure it is shut tight.

Anyway, so the other night the traditional scenario unfolds. LittleDuckling with his whining food protests. Me, with my unsympathetic repartee. 4LeggedCreature, front and center. In a matter of moments, I hear whimpering; a struggle of some sort ensues. Now, being totally distracted that I can't even blog (the nerve!) I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter!

Yes. It's the Gluttonous Mutt. She waited until LittleDuckling found his treat and walked away. Then she pawed at the bottom of the pantry door, enough to pull it loose. She busted into the honey nut Cheerio's. Yes. That is a picture of her with her head stuck in the box. Yes. Those are crumbs on my kitchen floor (hey - just keepin it real). Yes, you're right. Those aren't really Honey Nut Cheerio's. They are actually the generic "Honey & Nut Toasted Oats" version. Yum. And Yes. She really did eat the entire contents. I know this, because there was enough puke spewed on my kitchen floor throughout the middle of the night to prove it. Swiffer that!

I know y'all are jealous. Try to keep yourself contained.

The Pooch and Other T.P. Tales

Okay, okay already. Many of you wanted to know if the pooch survived "The Ultimatum" or not. Go HERE (Friday Is Dooms Day) to catch up if needed.

Basically, the chores weren't getting done. And when I ventured down to the basement one day it looked like a bomb went off and 4LeggedCreature had left a surprise that no one had bother to mention or clean up. I completely and utterly lost it. Not just a little. Not just a few marbles. I lost it all. I lost "IT"! That's right. I had a full-blown come-apart.

All three names of all three of the offspring were heard rolling off my tongue. I handed out orders. I barked out threats. This was the last straw. They had one week to prove to me that they COULD manage all of their responsibilities, including the pooch. Tears were shed. Eyes were rolling and feet were stomping. Nevertheless, I stood firm in my ultimatum that the rooms get clean or the pooch goes Au Revoir.

Some of you readers out there in the blogosphere were outraged that I would do such a thing. Some petitioned that it wasn't the pooch's fault. Let me explain.

After my divorce, and having to enter into an 8-5 working world, things at home started to get hectic. I have three different kids in three different schools, with three different schedules (1 is in year-round school). It has been an adjustment for us all. We have made several attempts at getting organized. But it just seems as if we live "flying by the seat of our pants" most nights.

I wouldn't get rid of the dog as a punishment to the dog. Instead I believe that if we can't take care of her properly, then we are already punishing her. It was more of a question to test whether or not we can really take care of her like we should. Additionally, I knew the stakes had to be high this time. The no-video games and no-friends and no-phone calls just wasn't cutting it anymore.

Well, the off-spring pulled it together. Rooms got cleaned. Carpets got shampooed. And the Pooch got to stay. My kids also thought as a reward they should get to have a party. I have told them on so many occasions, if they can keep the house clean, they can have a party every weekend for all I care. And I am serious about that. At least I'd know where they are, right?

Well, they had their party, and I ended up with a houseful of about 10 teenagers, 2 tweens, and 2 pre-teens. It was fun. And those who stayed late wanted to go t.p.-ing. Well, er, um, I guess I sort of brought it up by saying something about what we used to do as teenagers. T.P.-ing and Soaping. They hadn't even heard of soaping. Guess cuz nowadays everyone uses Body Wash.

Anyway - they thought pranks sounded like fun. They wanted to doorbell ditch. I told them No, because it was rude to wake people out of bed this late. I did tell them that I enjoy a good prank as long as A) no one gets hurt B) nothing gets destroyed C) no one gets their feeling hurt or humiliated. They decided the only prank left in that category was T.P.-ing. I said, "No. What would your parents think if I let you do that?"

They begged. I said "no". They begged some more. I said, "Maybe". Thrice they begged. I laid down the ground rules.
1) No damaging of any property of any kind, including flower beds, etc.
2) no hitting houses belonging to that of Old Persons, Persons with disabilities, or Single people.
3) If they got caught, I was hanging them out to dry and would deny any knowledge of it whatsoever. (In other words, I would drive away and leave them to walk back. Cruel, I know.)
4) No Talking. No giggling. And go Pee before we leave so as not to pee in my car.

I made each of them bring their right arm to the square. I placed each of them under oath and covenant to follow said rules, plus a few others I am not at liberty to mention here. We drove. We scouted. I parked. I told them they had 30 seconds and I was leaving without them. (I figured they couldn't make too much of a mess in 30 seconds.) We picked the house. The house with no outside lights on a dark street and belonging to the friend who didn't come to the party. I guess they figured it was punishment; the one who doesn't show up - gets pranked.

Does this make me a bad mom? I wondered. Probably. But we did it anyway.

I turned off my lights as they quickly and quietly escaped. They ran across and just as luck would have it, the Frontrunner train came barreling down the tracks. See, the train runs right behind said friend's house. This couldn't have been more perfect as I'm sure it muffled any giggles that may have escaped. Sure enough, after 30 seconds, they ran back to the van, slid into their seats, and away we drove. I have to admit, that being the get-away driver was just as much fun.

Hey - I'm 35. I gotta get my kicks somehow. Besides, didn't we already establish that I wouldn't be up for Mother of the Year anytime soon? 'Nuff said.

Welcome to My Bra

When I leave the house, 4LeggedCreature can't stand it. She hates being alone. In an effort to comfort herself, she will find any article of clothing I have left behind and drag it around the house. Often times I come home to find her snuggled up on the sofa with said article of clothing.

I try not to leave clothes out. But I do occasionally throw my pj's over the edge of my bed, or leave my hoodie on the bench by the front door.

Once, I left one of my bras on the doorknob in the bathroom. During this time, my sofa was also positioned right in front of the big window in the living room. The dog loved hanging out on the sofa because it allowed her the perfect view of the sidewalk and street. This would ensure that no one would get left out. She barked at everyone and everything that moved.

Ok, so back to that day; the day of the "bra incident". I came home from work, pulled into my driveway, and noticed something BIG & WHITE in the middle of the window.

"What is that?" I wondered. I headed toward the front door only to realize that it was my Double-Dang sized bra hanging over the back of the sofa, right there on display for the whole world to see. To make matters worse, the local church ladies had apparently stopped by and taped the monthly calendar to my front door.

I immediately wondered if they came before or after this horrific display. And if they came after, what must they have thought? "Perhaps it's a sign she open for business." Oh boy, I could just hear it now. With my new "Welcome to my Bra" greeting, I was sure to be labeled the new town hussy. Isn't that what newly divorcees become anyway?

Well luckily, nothing was ever mentioned. Though, I did notice both the mailman and garbage collector start to smile my way a bit more!

Howling Halloween Hound

So - by now you've probably heard about 4-legged creature. She gets into things from time to time. She doesn't chew on our shoes or anything like that. But she loves food.

Well - the other night I was making some "Sticky Halloween Crunch" for my recipe group. Afterwards, she just kept whining. I was trying to have a meaningful phone conversation with Big-D, okay - well a conversation anyway - and she just wouldn't simmer down. She continued to stand beneath the counter and HOWL - I mean really HOWL because she could smell the Sticky Halloween Crunch cooling on the parchment paper above.

When my kids do this (well, whine - not howl) I let them lick the spoon. So, I take my wooden spoon from the sticky pot in the sink and hand it to the dog, figuring she can suck on that for a while and let me finish my call in peace. Needless to say the "sticky" in "Sticky Halloween Crunch" is a sugary syrup. Well, apparently she had no patience to "suck on that" for a while. In her attempt to BITE OFF THE SYRUP - SHE CHEWED MY WOODEN SPOON TO TINY PIECES!!! There were shards of wood all over my hallway!!! I should have guessed that this Devil of a Dog is one naughty little Ghoul and will do anything for food.

So, about 30 minutes later, she was all hyped up on sugary syrup (I know - I'm a BAD doggy-mom) and PrettyPrettyPrincess was trying to get her to calm down. I took these pictures of her - and they are not touched up AT ALL!!! Do you see what I see??? Perhaps eating "Sticky Halloween Crunch" really brought out the little devil in her!

Spooky!

Thinking it was about 9:30 at night, and the room was fairly dark...perhaps it was a reflection from the flash and the lamp in the room. So, I made my daughter sit in the exact same spot to test this theory!

Nope! She's still an Angel!

Caution: Do NOT feed "Sticky Halloween Crunch" to howling hounds before Halloween!