Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Get Ready to Scream

Woody and Cash snuggling on the couch

Cash and his 3/4 brown- 1/4 blue eye

Cash is "taking care of his baby" Chi Chi
Sleepytime for Woody
OH, I forgot to tell you, we have a tiger on our hands!

Friday, September 08, 2006
Summer Lovin
August has come and gone, and now September is bringing cold weather, yellow leaves on the trees and a whole bunch of big changes for me.

This past month has been crazy! I got the puppy, quit my job, started a new job, and recently got two little bundles of kitten fur... just to name a few!

The job thing: My ex-boss turns out to be a real asshole. Let me explain. First of all, its been three years that I have worked for him- three times longer than any person has lasted at that job (I guess that should have been my first clue). Over those three years, I have proven myself to be a reliable, hard working employee who does more than is required of and who has shown personal interest in the patients we saw and showed my boss that I will give 110% if given the opportunity. I turned his office around; from working thru piles of neglected paperwork, to straightening out and collecting tens of thousands of dollars from old patient balances, to getting the office so organized that it practically ran itself, I did more for him and his office in three years than all of his previous employees accomplished in the first 18 years of his practice being in business! Seriously.

So when I brought my puppy "Cash" in to work with me on Monday morning and he smiles and says how cute the puppy is, I think, "No problem, everything is fine" - right? Well, turns out he is too much of a coward to say that first day that he doesn't really want me to bring the puppy in with me to work. Get this- three days go by and he doesn't say anything. No looks, no "Ahems", nada. That third morning, Cash walks towards my ex-boss, to say hi, and all of a sudden, the fucking guy turns around and steps on Cash's paw, resulting in a crying puppy who holds his little paw up and can't walk on it for the rest of the morning. The worst part? That piece of pudgy poop didn't even say sorry. Not a, "Oh my gosh, I am SO sorry" or a "You poor little thing!". NOTHING. He just glares at me, as if its my fault. As if I'M the one who stepped on the little tiny puppy!

Cash was SO good, from the very first day. When I brought him to work that Monday morning, he just slept in his crate next to my chair, and didn't make one single peep, or tinkle on the carpet, or anything at all. The patients didn't even notice he was there! But three days later, my ex-boss (lets call him Dr. Nose- for his large, red beak) walks up to my desk after we had seen the last patient for the day and says, in a very aggressive manner, "I don't want you to bring your puppy to work anymore." I am somewhat taken aback by the strange tone in his voice, and politely ask, "Why is that?" He says something about how it distracts me from my work, and how it distracts him from his work, blah blah blah, all total nonsense, since I never even ONCE had the puppy in my lap while I was sitting at my desk, nor did I neglect my work or the patients because I was playing with Cash. I did absolutely everything I needed to do while I was in the office, and the only thing I did differently was to have a puppy under my arm as I walked out the door to lunch! Anyhow, I very calmly and respectfully told him my workload was absolutely not affected nor would it be affected by the presence of Cash, and that this was something very important to me, and I needed to bring him with me to work for a couple months so that he would bond with me and grow up into a well-behaved little dog. He didn't say much after that, and I left to go home and think about things.

That night, I had a long conversation with Aunty about what I should do, and she helped me to get a grasp on all the emotions swirling around in my head, and to solidify what my real needs and wants were. I decided I would talk to Dr. Nose the next day, and depending on what he said, I would either continue working for him with Cash coming to work with me for a few months, or I would give him my notice. I also had to call Lulu, Hayden's mom, to see if I could come and work for them in their front office (their receptionist had quit a few months ago and nobody was in the front office)... thankfully this option was even available to me and Lulu thought it was a great idea!

So the next day, I left Cash with Aunty and I went to work, dreading the conversation I was going to have to have with Dr. Nose. As I walk in the door, I expect to see him wandering around the office, like he always does before the office opens to patients, but he was in his office, sitting at his desk, shuffling papers like he was busy. He didn't look up or say hello, and the tension in the air was thick. It continued through the rest of the afternoon, and instead of him coming out of the adjusting rooms, like he normally does between patients, he stayed shut in the room, and stayed very quiet, like he was ashamed of how he reacted the day before, or like he was scared to talk to me.

Finally, at the end of the day, he poked his head out of his office like a little mouse sticking its nose out of its hole to see if the room is clear, and said, "I wanted to follow up with you from our conversation yesterday..." I took the opportunity to say what needed to be said, and basically told him that I appreciated that he is the owner of the business, and that if he felt that my bringing Cash to work with me was unacceptable that I would have to give him my notice because this issue was absolutely top priority for me. He got all huff-puffy and said, "Why don't you just give me your keys now!" like an immature little brat that didn't get what he wanted. I told him (calmly and assertively- ahem!) that I didn't want to end our working relationship on a bad note, and that I would work the rest of that week and the whole next week, to give him a chance to find somebody else. So that was it! I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I didn't have to worry about what bullshit I was going to have to deal with from Dr. Nose anymore! HOORAY!!

I started working for RFBS in the front office, and Cash gets to come to work with me everyday. Everybody in the office loves him to pieces, and he gets treats from the FedEx and UPS guys, so he's a happy little guy. Cash now has two babies under his sometimes clumsy, but always loving care- his new charges are called "Chi Chi" and "Woody" and are now about 8 weeks old. They are the babies of my late and great giant cat, Obie, who disappeared earlier this year. We bred him with my aunt's cat, and she had her litter in July. There were only two, and so I am keeping both of them, since Aunty already has two cats.

Got to run... pictures will follow!!

Monday, July 24, 2006
Quote Me
"Life must be lived forwards, but can only be understood backwards."


SWF finds BBM
Single white female finds Baby Blue Merle. HOORAY!!!!!!!

I went to Denver this weekend to look at a litter of puppies (Mini Australian Shepherd, to be exact). I found the little ones to be just as sweet as can be, and cute as a button- of course. I posted a picture of this litter before, but here it is again.

My little guy is the one on the far right (tan on face)

A closer shot (kinda looks weird in this photo cause of the red eye)

What a little sweetheart he is! The whole time we were there, talking to the breeder and looking at the puppies, H. was holding him, and the cute-P that he is, he sucked on H.'s finger!!! He was positively the calmest and quietest of the litter, but also very curious- about the strings on my cargo pants, my toes and sandals, the string sticking up from the carpet, and everything else that moved (or didn't). I was hooked the minute- the moment- I picked him up and felt his soft head snuggle under my chin.

Unfortunately, I have to wait two more weeks to take him home, so August 5th or 6th I'll be heading back to D-Town to pick him up. Its going to be the longest two weeks of my life. I feel like I am waiting to hear from the lottery that yes, my ticket has been confirmed, and yes, I am the winner of a $28,000 lottery drawing. I have been waking up in the middle of the night, all of a sudden so excited about all the things I will get to do with the puppy, the things I need to do to get ready for him, etc. I feel like I should throw a Puppy Shower or something. (Ha!! That reminds me: There was a show on the Animal Planet about that exact thing- or maybe it was a birthday party. Either way, it was hilarious and rediculous all at the same time. Right up my alley.)

Meanwhile, H. rolls his eyes and mumbles, "Yeah babe, I'm SO excited too."

And in other Crazy Cat Lady News: Aunty's cat had her kittens early Sunday morning! Just two- one cream colorpoint and one black tabby with white paws and nose. I haven't seen them yet, but am going directly after work to check them out. These kittens are the offspring of Obie, my late and great monster cat, so I am going to take one of his babies since I am now catless. What's a Crazy Cat Lady without her cats?

So happy. So very happy.

One thing- I need to think of puppy names. Post your ideas in the comment section, PRETTY PLEASE!!

Friday, July 14, 2006
Baby Update
After contacting a dozen or so breeders, I think I have finally found the litter out of which my new baby puppy will come from. Check these pictures out!!

I am probably going to be taking one of the blue merles (a greyish-blue spotted puppy)... I REALLY like the one on the left, in the second picture, with more tan on his/her face.

Which one would you pick???

PS: You can click on the small pictures to enlarge it.

Friday, July 07, 2006
Raining Cats and Dogs
July is here. Ohmigawd. Another month has flown by and now we are in the heart of summer in the Rocky Mountains. Its beautiful here this time of year; it often rains in the afternoons, just enough to rinse off the roads and dampen the dirt and make that heavenly scent of rain permeate the air.

Another good thing about spring and summer is puppies and kittens being born left and right. This can never be a bad thing, at least in my book.

We have to decided to get a baby, er, I mean, I am trying to find a Miniature Australian Shepherd puppy. You really have no idea how hard it is to find one in Colorado! I have been looking on every website my Google and Yahoo and AOL search engines come across, but haven't found the right puppy for the right price yet. Good Grief Charlie Brown- some of these breeders are asking for $1,000 or $1,500 for a puppy- I mean, really?!?! IT'S JUST A DOG. And then, if the breeder is out of state, there is a $200 (apx.) shipping fee to fly the baby to Denver Airport! You've GOT to be kidding me... I am not paying $1,500 bucks for a dog. No way.

So I am still looking...

I decided I was going to get a purebred this time around, since I have already adopted two pound puppies in the past, and I want specific characteristics in this one... trainability, size, personality, etc. Yes, I am a dog snob. Deal with it. Here are a couple of the puppies I am looking at right now:

But seriously? I am so excited to get a new puppy, its not even funny. I am literally loosing sleep over it, and its all I think about during the day. I even had a dream about it last night! At work, I am constantly clicking back to my "work screen" and trying to keep papers on my desk so that when The Boss comes behind my counter, it looks as if I am actually doing something productive. (Ohhhh! That gives me an idea for a post... Coming Soon) And, on top of the puppy excitement, my aunt's cat (whom we mated with my -RIP- Obie) is pregnant and I will be taking one of her kittens too!

Do I realize what I am doing to myself? I hardly think so. I mean, between all the poop and pee cleanups, "potty training", dog training, chasing after the cat, scolding the dog to be nice to the kitten, screaming at the cat when he beats up the dog, feeding, water, baths... I am going to be OFFICIALLY DEEMED INSANE!! (This may or may not include some type of debt consolidation to beat down the credit card debts I will most likely incur with paying for all the toys in the cat and dog isles, the down beds for both, the china bowls they must eat out of and the sky-high vet "check ups")

Man, I can't wait.

I can hear H. now- "Baaaabe! The ____ shit/peed on the kitchen floor again! And now he's walking innnn ittttttttttt!! HURRY!! Come get it!!!!!!" (as if he couldn't pick up the tablespoon-sized pile himself... like he has no opposable thumbs... like he has some allergic reaction to puppy poop... ) Why is it that guys automatically think that we are in charge of All Gross Things, and WHY, please tell me WHY, do they think it's perfectly okay to leave the pile/puddle/smear/drip right where it is until we come home? "Ohhhhh! I didn't see that... "(lowers eyes, looks away and tries to look as if he's been busy doing something terribly important for the last 2 hours its been sitting on the floor, stinking up the house) Riiiiiiiiiight.

::::::: sigh ::::::::

Well, I've got to get back to my frantic clicking, emailing and searching online... wish me luck, and send any plastic bags you've got laying around the house- I'm stocking up.

Friday, June 30, 2006
Hit Me Baby (in the head, with a rock)
In response to Dooce's latest post, I bring you my thoughts on the barefooted mess of a pop icon we call Brittney Spears: First of all, I don't care if you are a new mom (isn't that all the more reason to?) or have a slacker-wanna be rapper-husband, or even if you happen to have thirteen lizards crawling on your head, THERE IS NO REASON WHY YOU SHOULD NOT PUT ON A BRA WHEN YOU WEAR A THIN WHITE T-SHIRT IN PUBLIC.

I too was victimized by the uber-catchy "Hit Me Baby" song... I found myself humming that rediculous song while sitting at my desk at work, or walking down the sidewalk, even while listening to other music in a vain attempt at getting that song out of my head. No doubt about it... its a great pop song because thats exactly what it became- POPular.

But I must say, I think all this "Bad Mommy" gossip about her putting her son in her lap while driving away from the paparazzi is just rediculous. Good grief, could you imagine what it must be like to have those creepy photographers chasing you down the street while you are simply trying to take out your trash or get some groceries or go to a pilates class? There is probably not a day that goes by without someone taking her picture... Maybe THAT'S why she quit wearing a bra! She was just trying to scare them off with her nipples!

In other news: My birthday was on Saturday, and it came and went without any new wrinkles appearing on my face. Trust me, I looked. (Just in case you were wondering)

Tuesday, June 20, 2006
My Back Hurts
I can't believe my birthday is already here again. I swear- didn't I just turn 21 a couple of months ago?? And whatever happened to 19? Or high school graduation day? Or summer vacations where I didn't spend everyday working? Whatever happened to Slip N Sliding in the backyard???? Ohmigod... I'm getting old.

Just kidding. I don't think that 22 is old, but from what everybody keeps telling (threatening?) me, I am going to be 75 and wearing diapers before I can snap my fingers and count to five. It's kind of depressing to think about that... I'll be 30, then 45, then 50 and before you know it, I'm kissing the foreheads of my grandchildren and reminicing about when my kids were that little!

You know what else is really strange? To watch my parents getting older... thank goodness they don't act like most other 50ish people. Dad and I go on mountain bike rides every Wednesday after work; we huff and puff up to the top of some god-forsaken trail, and then zoom down, bashing our shins/other various body parts on the decent. Its my favorite part of the week. I think its his favorite too.

My grandpa (we called him Pompa) was a very cool "old" guy. I miss those trips up to their house in Middle Of Nowhere, Oregon, where we would go to the lake and take the canoe out all day long, then come into shore and eat an entire watermelon... or ride the neighbors horses, doubled up, straight up the nearby trails... or just hang out on the lawn and play with the dogs. Yep, those were the best trips ever.

H's grandparents are a good example too. They are 80 and 83, and are still traveling all over the world. In fact, they met us in Mexico in April for a little sun and sand vacation. It was great to have them along, because they always have a big smile and a fun story to tell... even if they DID forget their passports! (ahhhhhh!!) But THAT'S a whole other story.

Anyways, I guess what I'm saying is that getting "older" is kinda scary, but inevitable. And, I guess if you just keep smiling (and going to the chiropractor for your aching back) its not all that bad. Just don't try to make me wear those old-lady polyester slacks.