Somedays knowing all that doesn't matter. Some days I just want to wake up an see this in the mirror:
Today that isn't the case. Today, the only place I'm going to see beauty like that is by googling. And why is that? Because today, after another sleepless night with the baby, and after a stressful day yesterday, and a nasty cold to top it all off... Today, when I looked in the mirror, all I saw was this:
Oh well. I guess we all have days like today.
Today is one of those days where I used to go out to the stables, and bury my face in that healing little groove where Jubilee's neck met his shoulder, and inhale deeply. I miss horses. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to go blow my nose. Sexy, huh? :)
He got a little fussy after an hour of playing by himself (he's never played by himself for an hour before), so I picked him up and cuddled him.
And he gave a cute little cough.
I looked down at him and said, "Bless you!" because I couldn't think of anything else to say, and because I had to say SOMETHING--it was just that adorable. At the sound of my voice, he looked up at me, and gave a huge, toothless, heart-warming grin.
"Awwww..." Overcome with emotion, I looked down at him, heart swelling with love as we stared into each other's eyes. He gave another tiny, little cough. I smiled even wider, and started to say, "Bless You!" again. But before I could finish saying it, The Dragonmonkey made tiny, liquid noise, and proceeded to spew vomit like a firehouse.
He threw up all over me. There was sour milk covering my shirt, my pants, my arms, my hands, and even in my hair. It was not a small amount of vomit, either. When I say I was COVERED, rest assured that I was COVERED.
He then threw up all over himself. Bubbling over like some evil force of nature, the next round of vomit coated his little blue monkey pajamas from his chin to his toes. The suddenness off it all left me frozen, horrified and rooted in place. I couldn't think what to do, so I just let it happen. It even came out his nose. And just when I thought it was all over...
He threw up all over the carpet. ALL OVER THE CARPET. How does this much liquid fit in one tiny little baby?
And when it was all over, as I stood there in shock, dripping vomit, standing in vomit, holding a vomit covered baby--- he looked up at me, grinned again, and gave another tiny little cough. What else could I do? "Bless you," I said in a weary voice, and proceeded with the clean up.
I think it should be legal to hire a hitman to "off" your dogs. You know, that way you could dispose of them and not actually worry about feeling guilty.
For all you crazy animal fanatics out there, I'm kidding.
I am currently the proud owner of a wonderful cocker spaniel named Max. Max is the perfect dog. He's absolutely adorable, incredibly obedient, utterly fantastic with children, and quiet.
But he's only quiet when he's with humans, or when he's alone.
When he's with other dogs, that's a whooooole different story.
Don't get me wrong, Max is great with other dogs. He's that happy-go-lucky dog you see that all the other dogs just love to be around. There isn't a mean bone in his body. I've never met a dog that didn't like him. The problem is that Max likes to talk to other dogs when he's playing with them. Since he lacks the proper vocal cords to do this quietly, this translates into Max barking at other dogs whenever he plays with them.
It goes something like this:
In fact, it doesn't go something like that, it goes exactly like that.
It's those four same doggy phrases, repeated over and over again. In fact, as I'm typing this, I can hear him starting it up again. It's not a particularly loud bark. It's just a lazy, quiet kind of a bark that only gets annoying because it's so pointless. It's not even that energetic. It's like even Max can't get that excited about what he has to say. Remember that scene from 101 Dalmatians when the dogs are trying to decode that important message? "Fifteen.... spotted... puppies...." Well, Max keeps repeating the same message over and over, as if it has some importance, but I don't think it really does. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've decoded exactly what he's trying to say. When translated from bark-ese into English, this is how it goes:
"Over here. Pay attention."
Annoying, isn't it? The worst part is that he only does it when I am inside the house. That may not sound like an important part of this horrible, irritating scenario, but it is. Why is that so important? It's because every time I go outside to scold him.... he shuts up.
Not only is he silent, but he is UTTERLY THRILLED that I have come outside to say hello. He wriggles. He spins. He wags his little stump of a tail so hard it looks like his back end is going to dislocate from his body and take flight. He is just so completely and utterly and SILENTLY happy that there's no way I can scold him for his barking. You can totally see that there's no way he's going to make the connection. Barking? What do you mean "no barking"? Who's barking? He's not barking. He's just SO THRILLED TO SEE YOU! You can practically taste the the joy emanating off him in palpable waves.
"OMG. OMG! OMG.OMG.OMG. OMG! It's her! It's her! It's her! She's back! OMG! She's here! Yaay! Yaaaaay! YAAAAAY! OMG! IT'S HER! IT'S HERHERHERHERHER! Oh, no! She's leaving! Why is she leaving? She just came out here, stared at me, and then turned around and left! She's gone! Oh, NO! I'm all alone! She's never coming back! She's been gone forever! I'm abandoned! I'll never see her again! I'm all alone.... Oooh. Another dog! Wait a second... that other dog's not paying attention to me!"
"Over here. Pay attention."
In order to truly understand how annoying this habit of his is, you need to understand that the dog he's barking at is NOT in the neighbor's yard. It's not on the other side of the fence. It's not tied up to a tree in our front yard, it's not looking at him from inside another house's window, or anything like that. The dog he is barking is it about six inches from the end of his nose, and the reason she is ignoring him is because she's probably just as sick as I am of his useless, apathetic noise.
Now, normally I just keep him in the house with me (except for potty breaks) and never have to deal with this oh-so-lovely habit of his. The problem is that I am baby sitting my mom's dog, who is only somewhat house-broken at best, and has a not-so-adorable habit of chewing on everything. I figure it's not fair to keep her in the backyard by herself, so Max gets to stay with her and keep her company.
She gets to enjoy a big back yard, all the bones she can chew on, and endless places to piddle to her heart's content.
Max gets to enjoy "Hey"ing to his little heart's content.
As for me, I get to sit in my little apartment and envision hiring a hitman to make the insanity stop.