Monthly Archives: December 2013
…that posted cute pictures of their cats and/or dogs all day and talked about how funny they look when they poop or hack up a hairball.
Sigh…I am such a disappointment to myself.
You see, our new rescue pup – Josey – does unintentionally hilarious shit.
All. The. Time.
So, I’m actually showing a good deal of restraint by just sharing this one story.
One of the ‘things’ about my formerly feral white shepherd is her lack of socialization. She doesn’t know how to dog, basically.
There’s no tail wagging.
There’s no food begging – in fact she RUNS the other way when we try to feed her in the house. She’ll only eat outside – another post for…nevermind.
There’s no coming when called, despite knowing her name.
Basically, she’s a cat in a dog suit.
The one thing she’s begun doing is following her “pack” around the house. The pack being me and hubby. The cat is not part of the pack, and spends most of his time alternately ignoring or staring at her – no doubt thinking what a dumbass she is.
We have a den, and in that den our Josey had never set foot. For whatever reason, the den (and our bedroom) was a room she couldn’t follow us into.
This created a serious problem for her. She couldn’t not follow her pack, but she couldn’t follow her pack.
So, one night she finally worked up the courage to follow her pack.
She started by backing into the den, after she’d paced in front of the door for several minutes, and sat with her back to us staring at the doorway.
This went on for at least 10 minutes, hubby and I giggling all the while, and me providing a commentary to the thoughts I imagined in her head…
I can do this. I know I can do this. Just don’t make eye contact. I can do this.
Finally, she turned around and walked to the farthest corner of the room. She sat on the hard floor, and slooooooooooooooowly her butt slid backwards. She re-positioned her butt and paws, sat down, and sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid backwards.
By now, hubby and I were in tears from trying to hold back the laughter.
The cat finally came out to see what all the fuss was about, and he walked right in and sat down on the rug right next to Josey. His ass stayed put. He looked at her, smugly.
She got up and parked her ass on the rug, ending the slide and our giggling.
Instead, we just got the tree up but not decorated, and I’m still waiting for all the gifts to arrive (I shop online whenever possible).
My house looks like I’m in the midst of moving, half-full boxes of Christmas decorations and the boxes that hold those decorations are in just about every room.
We just got back from another frigid trip to Missouri. This time to bury my sweet mother-in-law.
It was a sad time, but the snowfall was beautiful.
And this is a short week before I’m off again.
How do rock bands do it?
Nevermind, most of them aren’t as old as me.
If I don’t get back here..Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and to be on the safe side, Happy Easter!
When I first started working at a power plant I noticed more motorcycles in the parking lot than cars. And these were not your grandpa’s bikes. They were mostly bad ass Harleys.
The guys riding them worked at the plant, and sported long hair, tattoos, leathers, and do-rags.
I admit to telling myself to never judge a book, but I also admit to doing just that.
At first, I was intimidated, but then I started getting to know my ‘brothers’ and found something astonishing.
They were not scary, they were sweet and smart.
The frantic OMG!! GUESS WHAT???!!! text from baby girl Saturday night gave me a start. I was thinking either a) she was pregnant or b) she won the lottery or c) I won the lottery and didn’t realize it.
After my equally frantic WHAT? WHAT? text back, she sent this:
“Paul Walker is DEAD! He was only 40!”
To which I replied:
“That would probably mean something if I had a clue who he was.”
To which she did not reply. No doubt shocked I didn’t have a clue who he was.
Then I asked Uncle Google, and he told me that Mr. Walker was an actor and he made movies about fast car. Not so ironically, he died in a fast car.
It’s tragic, but more tragic is his 15-yr. old daughter left behind and the 8-yr. old son of the driver who upon witnessing the accident apparently attempted to pull his daddy from the wreckage.
That’s fecked up. Big time.
In other news, several thousand (or maybe hundred, I’m too lazy to actually look it up) also died on that day in car crashes and while it’s tragic when anyone dies too soon, too young, let’s remember it’s just as tragic for the not-so-famous and their families.
Drive safe out there people, and remember that cars don’t behave IRL like you see in the movies. Not. At. All.