dog

Cow Poop and Mother’s Day Breakfast

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I was rushing around to get to a Mother’s Day Breakfast with Vivian at school. I am not a morning person, so I was cutting it close. I was completely ready, I simply had to take our beloved Ollie Augustus down the hill to his kennel.As I reached to remove his collar, I quickly realized that he had rolled in cow poop…again!

Two things, 1. Eau de Cow Poop lingers even after washing your hands three times. 2. There are few things more humbling than texting your child’s teacher about cow poop. In light of the first point, I hand sanitized my hand about 20 times as I drove to the school. I finally got rid of the horrible smell, just in time to be the last mom to arrive to the breakfast.

I had a chocolate milk with Vivian as she finished her Fruit Loops in chocolate milk with orange juice. Upon clearing our tables, we walked back to the pre-K room to find a precious gift from our children.

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Allow me to show you an enlarged version of the letter in which I am 70 feet tall and weigh 60 pounds.  It sounds awesome until I read my age… 62 years old. Oh, and apparently Vivian likes doing the dishes with me. Who knew?!

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According to Vivian I am super model skinny, despite my age, I make a mean batch of chocolate fudge, and she knows that I love her. I am just going to embrace the age and let people tell me, “Dang! You look good for 62!” The cow poop, however, I could do without.

A Letter to my Dog

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Dear Ollie Augustus,

Last week was pretty rough. Between doctor visits for Sofia and the usual mischief, I was a bit exhausted. I mean seriously, I even got an empty fortune cookie on Friday. A fortune-less fortune cookie, not the best way to finish an already festive week. I was over it all and decided to go home and let the girls binge-watch Disney Junior while I divided my hostas. I finished my evening with a glass of wine, a beautiful sunset, and you. As you sat there, loyal and quiet, I finally realized why people own dogs.

At 1:30 in the morning I woke up to you, barking incessantly at a raccoon, while Lawrence yelled at you to be quiet and get in the house. I came downstairs and yelled every command we had ever worked on together. Nothing. You just barked and barked as I yelled like a crazy woman in my cheetah pajamas for you to come in the house while Lawrence went to get a flashlight. We quickly realized that the raccoon was big enough to win the fight you were provoking, so Lawrence went for his gun.

As he fired in the air like Yosemite Sam in boxer shorts, you finally decided to stop barking and come into the house. Finding the girls at the top of the stairs, I realized we may have startled our neighbors as well. Messaging my neighbors that we were firing guns at 1:30 am is not my idea of fun on a Friday night, but having the cops called is certainly not any better. I finally got the girls back to sleep, but I tossed and turned until my alarm went off at 6:00.

That’s right, 6:00 am on a Saturday to get dance shoes clean, all 9 dace costumes packed, style hair, and apply make up for dance picture day. I left my house at 8:30 am and returned at 8:30 pm, sleep deprived. You managed to stay out of trouble…until Sunday.

I mean seriously, coming home from church to find you covered in cow poop is yet again, not my idea of fun. If anyone drove by my house, they saw me in my navy dress with fluorescent sneakers and hot pink dish gloves, hosing you down and bathing you in the front yard. Thanks for that buddy.

P.S.  You are the first dog I have ever owned, and you may very well be the last. I have invested far too much time and money to get rid of you, and like the girls, your cuteness redeems you.

P.S.  You are the first dog I have ever owned, and you may very well be the last. Much like the girls, your cuteness redeems you.

Foster Dog Kennel

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On our way home from dance last night we witnessed a man drop off a dog on the side of our road and drive away. The dog had no collar and my daughter immediately knew it had been abandoned.  She panicked. “Mama you have to get that dog! That man just left him and there is no one to take care of him or feed him.  The coyotes might eat him!  He will be so scared all alone in the dark!”

I have tried to instill a sense of compassion in my children, but adopting a dog was not high on my list.  The look on my daughter’s face shamed me into driving slowly so the dog could follow us home. It looked like a nice dog, but I wasn’t sure if it would be aggressive. After all, it had just been left on the side of a country road, so who knows how it had been treated?!

We got home and my husband put him in our outside kennel with food. I immediately posted a picture to Facebook, hoping to find new owners and had a Facebook friend offer to adopt him. Can I get an amen?! We planned to meet the next day after work.

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The next morning I went to let our dog outside and feed “Wolfie” before going to the office.  The gate was standing wide open and Wolfie was gone. I went down the hill and someone or something had kicked in the gate of the kennel. I immediately thought the man that left him changed his mind or got mad and took him. (Yes, I jumped to conclusions!)

Next thing I know, my dog is barking…and I hear another dog barking. “Wolfie” came down out of the woods behind our home and went back down and laid at the kennel gate. What the what? My husband came home and repaired the gate and Wolfie happily went back in the kennel and stayed there until my husband could meet with his new owner later in the day.

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We found a collar and the dog literally rolled on its side and waited for my husband to put on the collar and leash. Ollie Augustus on the other hand, is our hyper attention-needy dog that can’t even walk on a leash. Yes, my husband pointed out Wolfie’s ability to walk rather than spaz out and drag me as he walked to his car. For a moment I debated which dog we should give up, I’m not going to lie.

As my husband loaded the dog into his back seat, my girls started crying about how much they would miss Wolfie.  You know, the dog we had for less than 24 hours.

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I still don’t know how that gate was opened, but I am just grateful Wolfie found a new owner to love him and give him a new name. Vince is apparently a cool dog that is mellow and great to have around.