Archive for the ‘Pets’ Category

Don’t Be a Moron

Filed under: Don't Make Me Cut You,Pets,Stupid People — Amy @ 1:44 pm

Ok, can we just talk about something that is slowly but surely moving past the point of “pet peeve” and into the realm of “makes me stabby?”

Irresponsible dog owners.

I have spent the past 7 years living in two states where it seems like everybody, including myself, owns a dog. And during that time it has become all too clear that there is a prevalence of a certain breed, if you will, of dog owners that borders on reckless. Folks in this category are either too stupid to realize or too inconsiderate to care that their pets are a menace.

And I for one, am tired of encountering them and fending off their beasts.

I hope you’re not one of these people, but in case you’re worried about it, let’s go though a few litmus tests:

If you think the “All Dogs Must Be On a Leash” rule at the park doesn’t apply to your dog, you are a moron.

That’s great that your dog can walk by your side without a leash on. It doesn’t mean he will continue to walk by your side once he passes MY dog – who can’t escape because he IS on a leash.  And if you’re on a bicycle, it’s going to take you entirely too long to assess the situation, turn around, get off your bike, and intervene.  Meanwhile, your dog has already swallowed half my dog’s head.

Also, I don’t care how well trained you think your enormous brute is.  If you let him roam freely around the park because he gets more exercise that way, don’t act surprised when he makes a beeline for my dog and clobbers him.  And I don’t care if you’re 80 years old, I will scream at you for letting it happen.  Especially the second time.  I go the park to exercise, not to stand still, holding my dog in my arms until you get your ass over there to call off Bruno.

If you think your dog knows where your property line ends, you are a moron.

Look, if you want a ferocious guard dog to keep your property safe, that’s your deal.  But if you think for a MINUTE that he’s going to keep his ferociousness within your unfenced boundary, you’re just kidding yourself and putting other people in danger.  I know not to run from dogs, but when I’m jogging by your house – on the OTHER side of the street – with my headphones on, I’m not going to notice that your 100-lb German shepherd is trying to chase me down until he has a hold of my ankle.

If you think your large, aggressive/protective dog has any business being off-leash, you are a moron.

Kaelin and I were taking Hastings for a walk this week.  Our driveway is long and passes a neighbor’s property.  We could see the large dog on the porch 100 feet away (200 feet? I can’t judge distance to save my life), barking his head off like he was fully prepared to rip us to bits.  “I hope he’s on a leash,” I muttered to Kaelin as we continued on our way.  Suddenly, the dog quit barking and disappeared.

Guess who was waiting for us at the end of our driveway.  Our walk was cut short as we turned around and headed back.

I have enough to worry about with keeping my dog and children safe from moose and bears.  I don’t need to be trapped in my own driveway by your stupid dog.

If you think that just because your dog is generally benign, he should roam free and unsupervised, you are a moron.

Ok, aside from the obvious issue of him getting hit by a car or attacked by another dog or wild animal…

There’s a dog on our road that is old and probably half deaf and spends most of his day sitting by the road watching the cars go by.  Nice dog, not aggressive.  But curious.  So when I passed this house with my dog, while walking the mile to the mailboxes, he came bounding toward us.

I have a shiba inu.  He’s fast, and a bit on the hyper side when he gets excited.  His quick, jerky movements are sometimes interpreted by other dogs as aggressive behavior or an invitation to body slam.  Also, he tends to distrust other dogs and is quick to snap when he feels cornered because he’s on a leash.  So even the nicest dogs can get the signals crossed and the next thing I know, I’m by myself trying to break up a row between two frustrated animals with sharp teeth.

People, please don’t be morons.  Leash and fence your dogs.  If not for others’ sake, do it to spare your dog from the pain of my pepper spray.

Anybody want a cat?

Filed under: Peaves,Pets — Amy @ 9:46 pm

I love my cat.  He’s awesome.  He’s totally tolerant and lovey and sweet and wouldn’t hurt a fly.

But if he doesn’t stop pissing on my carpet I’m going to kick him curbside.

It started sometime after we moved into this new house… but I can’t place my finger on when because for a long time we didn’t even know he was doing it.

I do not know what has possessed him.  It has to be psychological, but I truly can’t figure it out.  He outright refuses to use the litter box.  We can tell he needs to go, so we’ll place him in the (sparkling clean) litter box and close the laundry room door.  He’ll jump out, cry at the door for 20 minutes, and when he finally gets let out he sneaks over to the corner and pees on the carpet.

Aren’t cats supposed to PREFER the litter box???

And this is the cat who, a year ago, would religiously use the box regardless of its condition, and despite the fact that another cat (who we no longer have) was peeing all over the place.

NOW, when he has to poop, he’ll walk into the laundry room, jump over the gate that keeps the dog away from his litter box, and poop… right NEXT to the litter box.  Why go to all that effort if you’re not going to make it in the box?

I do not want to get rid of this cat.  But I cannot handle chronic cat pee on my carpet.  Especially when it defies all reason and nothing we seem to be doing is helping.

And I’m tired of seeing “you may need to train your cat again” on forums and such.  Dude.  Who can possibly observe their cat 24 hours a day and be available to rush him to the litter box every time he takes a squat?  I don’t know anyone with that kind of non-schedule.


Filed under: Pets — Amy @ 10:05 pm

The day we moved to Texas in 2003, we had just driven 5 days from Seattle with our puppy, Japp. We were hanging out in my parents’ back yard when Japp slipped through the fence and took off for the wide open spaces of the golf course. It’s a breed thing – shiba inus are prone to run away and it’s virtually impossible to train them to do otherwise when given the opportunity. And shibas are fast. Ridiculously fast.

Unfortunately, Japp didn’t make it to the golf course haven. As he darted across the street, was hit by a speeding car. He died in J’s arms. And took a chunk of my heart with him. At the time we had no children and thought of that puppy as our baby. He went everywhere with us and J even took him to work every day.

At the encouragement of my uncle, we ended up getting another dog. We looked at other breeds but decided to get another shiba. We named him Hastings and have been overprotective to the point of paranoid when it comes to making sure he hasn’t had the opportunity to escape.

A couple of days ago, he did.

Kaelin and I were exiting the front door for a walk and as we were getting her doll’s stroller through the door, Hastings leaped over the stroller and darted out. As I grabbed at him and he slipped through my hands, flashbacks of Japp hit – with the sudden realization that there was a good chance I would not see this dog alive again.

He took off down the street like a lightening bolt. Then he stopped at the end and changed directions, running past our house and down to the opposite end of the street. By the time I grabbed the leash he was nowhere to be seen.

I swear, if I ever get another dog – shiba or not, I’m going to look for one with a bad leg.

Not knowing what else to do, I started walking down the street with Kaelin in tow, hoping we would at least see him and be able to track where he was going. And hoping that if he got hit by a car that Kaelin wouldn’t see it.

And then he came back. I was looking in the direction he had taken off in, when I hear Kaelin say “Hastings! There he is!”

And sure enough, here he comes trotting down some random side street. He had made a full loop around (told you shibas were fast) and apparently decided his three minute tour of the neighborhood was over. He came right up to us and let me put the leash on.

Which I did. And then I cried.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Did you notice this post has been mis-titled? That the word “prodigal” makes very little sense in conjunction with this story? Did you also know that my entire life I thought “prodigal” applied to someone who ran away and then came back? Yeah, that’s what I get from learning vocabulary from Bible stories.

Hey, Guess What?

  • I hurt myself from yawning too big.   I think I overstretched the tendon that connects my jaws or something.   I know.   I’m now in competition with Sammy Sosa for lamest injuries.   I wonder if Workers Comp covers that kind of thing.   It was the boredom brought on by my job that forced me to yawn, after all.
  • I dreamed that I had an affair.   With J.   No idea who I was actually married to in the dream.   But Jens’ conscience got the best of him at the last second and he backed out on me.   So I woke up guilty, bummed, grumpy, and horny.   I hate dreams.
  • After 4 years, my dog has just discovered that he has a penis.   He has been licking it for 48 hours straight.   It’s driving us crazy, especially since he sleeps in our room and he’s decided that licking himself is more fun than sleeping.
  • Don’t buy hair dye that costs less than $10.   Especially if you use white towels and don’t want to see it bleeding onto your towel 4 days after you’ve colored your hair.   Just saying.
  • Also, don’t believe the stuff on the box of cheap hair dye that says it comes with highlights and lowlights and multi-faceted color that doesn’t damage your hair.   Bollocks.
  • Tomorrow we close on the house we’re selling.
  • Tomorrow we’re supposed to close on the house we’re buying.
  • Yesterday we found out that the house didn’t appraise for near what we had agreed to pay for it, so now our financing is messed up.
  • The appraiser totally discounted the sunroom, which would have made up the difference in the appraisal price.   He refused to count it as part of the square footage of the house (as a previous appraiser had done) because it didn’t have duct work or something.   But since nobody else in the neighborhood has a sunroom, he couldn’t find “comps” so he just didn’t give it any value at all.
  • Because, you know, if nobody else has one then it must have been free to install.
  • Apparently if you can’t find one just like it then it’s easier just to pretend it doesn’t exist at all than to do some more research and assign a value based on an educated guess.
  • Lazy ass.
  • So we’ve asked the relocation company to lower the price on the house because it doesn’t make much sense to pay more than a house is actually worth.
  • But it’s a relocation company and it will probably take them a week to get back to us because when you have 150 middlemen, things don’t move too quickly.
  • And we don’t know what they’re going to say.
  • So we don’t know if or when we’ll be closing.
  • Annoying, since we’re supposed to move out of our house in 2 days.
  • Regardless, we have to disassemble and pack up our computer tonight or tomorrow, so I’ll probably be offline for a few days.
  • Bummer dude.

The Pet

Filed under: Kaelin,Parenting,Pets,Undeniable Cuteness — Amy @ 8:03 pm

My daughter has a new pet. She has selected a “baby bean” from her dinner plate and has been carrying it around the house for the last 20 minutes.

She holds it as though she’s handling a baby bird, hand cupped and held close to her heart. She has introduced Baby Bean to her doll Timmy, and apparently Timmy is rather impressed.   She talks to it, coos over it, hugs it, tells it how sweet it is and how much she loves it.

That is one spoiled bean.

Please Remove Shoes

Filed under: Houses,Pets,Such is Life — Amy @ 3:31 pm

So Baskin Robbins is doing a 31 ¢ special tomorrow as a fund raiser for the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation. I’m sure that the firefighters appreciate that they’re only bringing in 31 ¢ per scoop instead of the regular price.

After placing our order and paying three weeks ago, we FINALLY got the carpet replaced in the living room and office downstairs. The Soft and Squishy feels great between my toes, as does getting high on the new carpet fumes. Mostly because they don’t smell like cat pee, which is a good enough reason to get high in itself.

Our remaining cat has approximately ONE CHANCE to redeem himself by going heretofore exclusively in the litter box. And he has been advised as such. Any departure from the litter box elimination will result in much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Our dog has been informed that any trespassing onto New! Carpet! with muddy paws may result in the forfeiture of said paws.

And Kaelin just looks at me funny when I tell her she can’t bring her cup of water onto the New! Carpet! without a sippy top.

So there we have it – one ridiculously expensive home improvement project done. Only 14 more to go.

Cleanse Day

Today is our weekly Cleanse Day, more commonly referred to as Liquid Fast Day of Doom. Being unable to eat real food for an entire day does not bode well for my mood.

Neither does the fact that the cat has recently developed a propensity for peeing and pooping anywhere EXCEPT the litter box.   We’ve already said goodbye to one cat because of this problem.   Unfortunately, Kaelin is rather attached to this one, and J and I are as well.

The dog has been chewing up Kaelin’s toys.   Again.

I’m having a hard time remembering why we thought pets were such a good idea.

J put all of Kaelin’s blankets in the wash today with a large red blanket that has never been washed before.   So now her white blankets are hot pink, and her green blankets are brown.

But at least my kid is cute.


Dear Old Dude,

Filed under: Don't Make Me Cut You,Pets,Stupid People — Amy @ 4:40 pm

I realize that you are probably exceedingly fond of your canine companion, and I will even give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that in most cases, your dog is probably a shining model of good behavior.

Even so, this shouldn’t lead you to believe that you are somehow exempt from the area’s leash laws, or that your dog is behaviorally “above” the need for a leash.

Because when your 150-lb dog comes barreling toward my 25-lb Shiba Inu and starts attacking him, I will freak out very loudly while waiting on you to make your way over and “GET A LEASH ON YOUR DAMNED DOG!”

Obviously, you don’t take a hint, as evidenced by the fact that on the return home, your dog was again on the loose and you were nowhere in sight. When he again bounded in our direction, I had to pick up my dog and stand there waiting for you to show up and retrieve yours.

Frankly, I find your behavior in this situation to be inappropriate, inconsiderate, and dangerous. I don’t know if you are really a jerk, or just stupid, but if I ever see you on the public trail again with your dog unleashed, the city police will be receiving a call and you will lose approximately 2 months of social security.


A dog owner who prefers to bring her dog home in once piece

The White Stuff

Filed under: Pets,Such is Life,Weather — Amy @ 5:18 pm

I love living in a place where everybody freaks out when it snows.   Offices close, school lets out, and there’s nobody on the road despite the lack of hazardous driving conditions.

And my dog runs around the back yard in a frantic panic because he has to poo but doesn’t want to stop long enough for the snow to stick to his feet.

The Most Tolerant Cat in the World

Filed under: Pets,Such is Life — Amy @ 4:09 pm


How can someone so cute be so disgusting?

Filed under: Parenting,Pets — Amy @ 1:20 pm

Kaelin had her first taste of real meat today.

She ate a gecko.

Evidently she’s been spending too much time with the dog. J stuck his finger in her mouth to see what she had been smacking on (she has a habit of finding strands of carpet and shoving them in her mouth). He pulled out the slimey, mashed up remains of a very dead lizard.

Excuse me while I vomit.


Filed under: Memories,Pets — Amy @ 8:51 pm

dooce: Death to Ed

I was reading the above entry (yes, I’m behind again in my blog reading) and the part where she asked her doctor if she could keep the removed cancer spot reminded me about the time we had our dog neutered.

One of his nuts was genetically deformed and hadn’t dropped completely, so they had to go in and surgically remove it, which created a slightly more complicated procedure than your average neuter. He had to wear a cone to keep him from licking the wound and it got all inflamed and red and was really bothering him.

I mean red to the point that, while home alone with him that night, I actually thought I was seeing blood puddle below his skin and became convinced that he was bleeding internally (ignore the part where I thought the blood would be red under the skin instead of blue…my dog’s life was in danger, I wasn’t thinking clearly). So I (gently) threw him in the car and rushed him to the nearest Pet Emergency Clinic where the on-duty vet laughed at me with his European accent and informed me that I was too stupid to own a dog, that there was nothing wrong with this perfectly normal sewn-up gash in my child’s dog’s rear. He then charged me $75 for the service and sent me home poor and humiliated. I didn’t tell J about that night (and I tell J EVERYTHING), and I didn’t intend to, until he was going through some papers on the desk and wanted to know why we had a receipt for $75 at the Emergency Vet Care Clinic.

But my humiliation really wasn’t the point of this story when I embarked on it. I hate getting distracted like that – why does it always end up with my discussing something embarassing?

Probably because I have a lot of embarassing moments. When I was in 6th grade, I came up with a coping mechanism for all those times I suffered the complete mortification of watching my entire life melt before my eyes. It seems I was habitually finding myself in the situation of having just done something incredibly dumb that would follow me the rest of my life and ensure that I would be home alone watching Saved by the Bell re-runs on Prom night.

When I found the entire world flogging me with the STARE in the aftermath of one of those moments, I would mentally spell “Embarassing” three times and by the time I got through the third spelling, the moment had usually passed enough that I could pull myself up off the ground and continue on my way, stopping every once in a while to pick up the pieces of my shattered self esteem.

About a year later, I came to the realization that I had actually been misspelling the word.

But I’m getting distracted again.

So when we went to pick up our poor, wounded, decapacitated puppy from the clinic after his surgery, they explained the procedure and why he had stitches and a cone and what we needed to do to care for him.

Then they held up his testacle in a plastic bag and asked us if we wanted to keep it.

And we’re like, are you NUTS? (Ba-dum-ching!)

Thank you, thank you very much. I’ll be here all week.

About Me

Hi. I'm Amy. I started this website in 2005 as a place to deposit my journal and photos. It has gone through a few incarnations and masquerades as a family site, but since I'm the only one who contributes to it, it's really all about ME, ME, ME.

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