YIPPEE!!!!!

Do you think the Doodle is excited that it's Saturday???!!!???

A Loyal Friend

 Our Minders

1994-2013

Three weeks ago we said a very hard good-bye.

Mindy was a loyal friend to our family.

The little one took it the hardest.  Mindy was her favorite pet.

Penny seemed a little lost too.

Three weeks feels like a long time.

Good-byes are hard.

But memories are a sweet gift.

True Love

I'll be back later to share more about our day.

Happy Valentine's!

My Golden Girl

Yesterday, Penny went to get her hairs did.  My favorite thing about her is the "scruffy" look that she pulls off daily with such fine finesse.  BUT....it was time for a little trim.  Tidy things up a bit.  She's only ever had one other hair cut, and I thought they didn't get her head just right last time.  I took her to a new place yesterday, and although I fell madly in love with the groomer on the spot, I still don't think I know exactly what to ask for around her face.  I miss her crazy cowlicks and furled eyebrows.

But, as all girls know, that perfect cut can be hard to find. This is her new look.

She is poofy.  And soft.  Like a big, goofy cotton ball.

Mindy got scalped cut too.  I told the groomer to go short, and boy was she ever a FINE listener.  Cavaliers aren't exactly known for their bravado.  Mindy has spent the last 24 hours curled up next to this pillow, nursing a case of Post Traumatic Stress.

She looks like a beagle now that her fuzzy ears are gone.  But she is still a sweet girl.  Naked.  But sweet.  She is Emma's favorite dog.  That's hard for me to imagine with the DOODLE in the house, but Emma is super, super attached to Mindy.  That's good.  Mindy needs a compadre.

Then there's "the other dog".  You know, the one we don't have to lie to about how GREAT she looks sporting a new do.  Oh, this doodle.  She is such a dreamboat.

The Nory Bird

We lost a pet today, and this loss was a hard one for us.

Nory was a Love Bird, and she has been part of our family for over seven years.  She got her name from from one of Hannah's favorite books, Nory Ryan's Song.  She was appropriately named, for what a love she indeed was!!  She was as sweet and cuddly as any puppy, and loved being held and played with.

When Hannah left for college, Hayden inherited the care and keeping of the bird.  It was a charge which particularly excited him, as he thoroughly enjoyed having her out of the cage and allowing her to study with him.

We didn't see this loss coming, and it was a hard hit this morning.  She was a wonderful little pet and was a joy to have in this house.  If you've never owned a bird before, you'll probably be quite surprised to know they offer quite a bit of companionship.  They are lots of fun!

In a strange way, this makes me a little extra sad because it was like a special little part of Hannah that she left behind for us to enjoy when she moved away to college.  That probably sounds silly.

Sigh.  Sometimes saying goodbye is so unexpected.

Hello My Name Is...

...Rex? Buddy? Spike? Whatever we settle on, we can definitely call him "Here To Stay".

This year Max's ultimate wish came true, and a BEARDED DRAGON is now on board here at the manor. Because that's what this place was missing. A dragon.

He has busied himself making friends with the family. He's a friendly little lizard, and oddly fascinating. In a creepy, crawly, bug eating kind of way.

Yes. He eats bugs. Crickets, to be exact. Since he is a bug eater, and I am a bug hater, he and I are still working out our mojo.

But he is apparently a quilt lover, so there you go. We're destined to be best friends. I'm just sure of it.

Or not.

Comments are now open, so feel free to drop me a line and marvel at what cool parents we are. Or tell me your best suggestion for a lizard name. We're all ears. (And scales. And scratchy little toes.)

The Gold Standard

Have you ever been loved by a Golden Retriever?

Have you ever admired a face grown gray, and given thanks for all the years of memories and days of sweetness you shared as those Golden hairs faded to gray?

Have you ever wondered how God could fit so much loyalty and devotion into one small dog??

Morgan joined our household in 1994, when Hannah was a toddler. Buzzard and I saw an ad on TV one night for dog food with a Golden Retriever puppy named Morgan. We decided then and there to get a Morgan of our own, and now the "early days" without Morgan here are such distant memories that I can scarce remember life before we entered The Golden Years. Morgan moved to three new houses with us, and welcomed three new babies to our family. She never met a child she didn't love, and most who met her thought quite highly of her too.

After all, what is not to love.

Morgan has seen her fair share of pets come and go from this house, and has always been the gentle giant who welcomes them in and teaches them the ropes. When Mindy came aboard, Morgan was even called upon to share the ropes, and that was okay with her too. She never actually learned to retrieve a darn thing, but she frequently toted little "lovies" around in her mouth.
Leo was terrified of Morgan the day we brought his tiny self home. He fluffed up real fierce like and hissed and spat at her. Unconcerned, old Morgan just squinted her eyes and stuck her nose right in his ferocious little face. This was them later that night.

It became a devoted friendship that grew deeper all the time.

Have you ever known the sting of a painful goodbye? Or felt the unbearable loneliness when you look down and see a once occupied spot, right next to your side, that is now miserably empty?

Today I'm giving thanks for my Golden Years. All sixteen of them. Morgan, I love you so much, and am truly amazed by the many ways you unfailingly loved me back.

Morgan

1994 - April 1, 2010

Lessons I've Learned From A Guinea Pig

#1 - A guinea pig is an R.O.U.S.  

For those of  you who may not be Princess Bride aficionados, that means Rodents of Unusual Size.  By my estimate, two thirds of their unusual size must be comprised of bladder, because they tinkle all day long.   

#2 - They also shed.  A lot.  They shed like a middle aged, hormonal woman who has recently given birth and who heavily colors her hair.  I'm pretty sure they even shed while they pee, which is All. Day. Long.

#3 - This means keeping a guinea pig cage clean is really hard.  The smell permeates everything.  For this reason, I may have once or twice wished that our guinea pig would "just go away".  Worse, I may have wondered what a used pig would fetch in a garage sale.  I'm not particularly proud of these moments, but I'm just saying, I do love a fresh, clean smelling house.

  

#4 - Guinea pigs are cute.  They do not have long, naked tails, which puts them in an entirely more attractive category than rats or mice.  They do have short legs, wide noses, and buck teeth, which puts them in a category with Uncle Fester.  Cute, in a homely sort of way.  If it weren't for the relentless stink factor, they could fall dangerously close to adorable.

#5 - Hayden carries a brightly burning guinea pig torch.  He got his first pig, Clementine, just before kindergarten.  She lived one year and died while we were on vacation.  My Mom was here housesitting and had to deal with it, which I am now sure I greatly underestimated at the time.  Our second pig, Penelope, only lived three days.  She was evidently sick when we brought her home from the pet store.  Hubby found her one morning before he left for work and took care of her for me.  Our third pig, Daffodil, has been a fixture in our playroom for the past four years.  You might think, after five years in the pig business, that Hayden would lose interest in shoveling pig poop.  To the contrary, the funny little friendship that existed between boy and bug eyed rodent just grew deeper by the year, and Hayden's little torch burns brighter today than ever.

#6 - For a boy who randomly remembers to do things like brush his teeth or pick up his clothes, pet ownership proved to be quite a character building experience.  Regardless of how crazy our schedule got, Hayden would check on Daff every single night before bed.  He wouldn't go to sleep until he was satisfied that her food and water bowl were clean and full.  Sure, it may have been a stall tactic, but their nighttime routine was mutually beneficial.  :)  He got to go to bed five minutes late every single night and she got a fresh snack right before gearing up to root around in her cage all night long.

#7 - Guinea pigs, who are extremely low energy and basically just sit still and wiggle their noses, apparently provide a level of companionship that is very satisfying to certain little boys.  Hayden would grab Daffodil from her cage in an "I'm bored!" kind of day, and she would keep him busy.  He created mazes for her, crammed her in the back of toy trucks for rides through the house, and plopped her in his lap while he read.  Even though she didn't do much, he found her fun, and it was his precious sense of satisfaction with her that made me not mind the shedding and the smell quite so much.  She was upstairs, out of my way, but right in the center of Hayden's little world.  It worked well for all of us.

#8 - There is never a good day for a guinea pig to die.  Not when the pig has become a comfortable part of your daily routine and you aren't tired of her or ready to see her go.  And not when you have a list of important things to do to prepare for an appointment at 1:00.  

Yesterday was a very sad day.

Hayden headed upstairs just like every other Friday...with a trash bag, a roll of paper towels, and a bag of shredded bedding.  Then there was great sadness.  I just hate that he was the one to find her.

#9 - There is never a good day for a pet to die.  Especially not when hubby is already at work and my mother isn't slated to come pet sit.  There are very, very few moments when I really dread being a Mom.  Dealing with an expired R.O.U.S. really makes the short list.

#10 - There is never a good day to drive a pet to Nana and Papa's farm to bury it in the pet cemetery.  Especially not when Papa has plans to be gone for the day.  But, because he is a gem, Papa agreed to go to the pet cemetery and dig a hole for me so it would be ready when I got there.  He left us a shovel and a little cup of Lyme.  (You have to sprinkle Lyme in the grave so the wild animals won't try to dig it up.  Really, this is quite a list of things I've learned from guinea pig ownership.)  I mentioned to Papa that the pig was in a shoe box.  Certainly Papa was thinking about my gigantic size 10 feet and the whopping boxes my shoes must come in when he dug that hole.  I could have buried a refrigerator box.  :)  However, I am extremely thankful I didn't have to shroud a creature that could have fit into a box that size in one of my hand towels and chauffeur him to the family farm in the back of my mini van.

#11 - I have never felt as helpless as a Mom as I did looking in the rear view mirror at my son, his arm resting on the stride rite shoebox sitting next to him.  There was a lot of friendship represented in that box.  And a lot of good memories too.  Nine is a tricky age.  Hayden is maturing so fast and is growing into young manhood in so many ways.  And yet, nine is still a little boy too.  Daffodil made me see and appreciate these "middle years" so clearly yesterday.  I so badly wanted to wipe away his tears and cheer him right up.  But I knew that wouldn't be the fair thing to do.  Saying good-bye is a tough part of life, and it is hard but necessary to stumble with feelings of loss and learn that they hurt.

#12 - We got to the farm, and Nana was waiting with a great big hug.  Hayden and I drove the golf cart out to the back of the property, where he immediately commented on the "cup of sugar" that Papa had left for us on the mound of dirt.  (The lyme.)  He shrugged his shoulders, but didn't ask any questions about it.  He just set to work, doing the best job ever.  I just sat and let him do his thing.  He shoveled so hard, stopping occasionally to wipe the sweat....and the tears.  He asked me to help him make a little mound of dirt for the popsicle stick grave marker we had made.  I asked him if he wanted to say a little prayer to God before we left.

"What would I pray about?"

"I'm not sure.  Anything that's on your heart.  Would you like to thank God for guinea pigs and tell Him your favorite thing about Daffodil??"

He didn't need to hesitate much.  He bowed his sweaty little head into his dirty little hands.

"Dear God,

My favorite thing about Daffodil is that she was all mine and I could call her my own.

Amen."

#13 - It's a very good thing in life to have things we can call our own.  They can teach us a lot and help us to grow. 

The Furred and Feathered

Today I'm introducing the critters who share our space. I'm the Mom who can't say no to a pet. Actually, I'm the Mom who never wants to. I've always loved animals, and would some day love to live in the country with a big barn to house a rag tag team of strays. Buzzard says we need to stay in the city, so he has ordinances to help keep our pet population in check. Back in the day, he and I used to be a foster home for some dog rescue programs. As our kids have grown through various stages, this house has been a revolving door for Kingdom Animalia. The current crowd consists of "normal" house pets, and for the current time I'm very happy to keep it that way.

This is my girl.

Bless her old, ancient soul. She gets top billing around here. She may be a half deaf, half blind, half wit, but she's still my bud, and I adore this goofy animal. Old dogs are a lot of work, and a lot of stink, but they are a whole lot of unconditional love too. Truth be told, I wouldn't know how to walk through this house without her right at my heel, stinking the whole time, and I hope I don't have to learn for a long, long time.

Back when Buzzard and I were young and spontaneous, about a hundred and twelve years ago, we were cuddled up on the couch watching a show one night, and a dog food commercial came on with a blond Golden Retriever puppy named Morgan. I got all excited and told Buzzard that more than anything in life I wanted a blond Golden Retriever puppy named Morgan. So he went and got me one. That was three kids, three houses, and three jeans sizes ago. Buzz and I still sit on the couch together sometimes with Morgan between us, snoring loudly and tooting even louder. Really, it's hard to keep puppy love alive a hundred and twelve years. Still, they don't call them "Golden" for nothing. She's top dog.

About five years ago I started to miss the puppy stage. We had a yellow lab named Sandy that passed away, and Morgan seemed so lonely. Honestly, the puppy stage is never to be missed. It's not so much of a "stage" as a life altering myriad of discipline and training issues that consume every waking moment, disrupt the schedule of every living being, and last unequivocally too long to be considered a "stage". I'd have three more kids before I'd ever have another puppy. Three more kids and a boyfriend with a carpet and upholstery cleaning business. Anyway, we purchased Mindy, our Cavalier King Charles Spaniel puppy, from a breeder.

I insisted we pay extra for breeding rights so the kids and I could raise a litter of puppies. Four seconds later I insisted we pay to have her spayed, when it became immediately obvious that I was profoundly unprepared to keep up with one puppy, let alone a litter of them. Can I just say that Buzzard is an eternally patient man who deserves some kind of medal?? We all survived puppyhood, and Mindy didn't turn out half bad. She's not the bravest (or smartest) pea in the pod, but she's a cutie poot, and we love her. Her only (only?) annoying habit is licking. She loves to lick. Aunt Jackie says she has her licker license.

Ever since Emma started eating Cheerios and other solid foods, Mindy has packed a little pooch. She's a tad "fluffier" than she was before Emma became infatuated with throwing food off her tray.

Leo was Hannah's 13th birthday present. He chose her at the pound; climbed right out of the cage and into her arms. They've been tight ever since.

Leo is a lounge lizard with loads of personality. He likes to be the center of attention, which I think is rather rare for cats, and he pesters all visitors who come to call.

Leo needs to relax and not be so uptight.

This is the looker of the bunch. Aint she cute?

This is Nory, my daughter's lovebird. Nory lives in Hannah's room and is positively the sweetest bird I've ever known. We've had lots of birds over the years. I think they make fabulous pets. Nory is gentle and affectionate, and is really attached to people. She wouldn't sit still while I was snapping pictures because she wanted out to play. So I gave in.

Miss Piggy is Hayden's pride and joy. Her name is Daffodil, and she is our R.O.U.S. (Rodent of unusual size, for you Princess Bride fans.) Hayden's first love was Clementine, ROUS #1. Clementine met with a sad fate one year while we were on vacation, and Hayden's little heart was broken. Daff is a suitable friend, and although he really adores her, I think Hayden still carries a torch for his beloved Clementine. Guinea pigs are easy and fun, and make handy garbage disposals for left over fruits and vegetables. :)

That's it! The mammals of the manor. And just for grins, how about a picture of my very favorite critter keeper. My cat tail tugger. My Cheerio dropper. My water bowl splasher. My future pooper scooper. This is one of my favorite photos of all time. :)

"Please, won't you share some of your apple flavored puffs with me? Please? Pleeeaaaassseee?"

"No. You never let me pull your tail. I'm not sharing."

2008: The Year of the Rat

Our homeschool studies have brought us to China, so we have spent the last many days learning about the culture, traditions, and lifestyles of the Chinese. Did you know that 2008 is the year of the rat? Allow me to share a delightful little ditty about how we celebrated that in our house last night...

I let Morgan, my thirteen year old Golden Retriever, outside late last night. What Morgan lacks in brilliance she makes up for in an unabashed sense of loyalty. Her greatest fault is that she is old, and age has brought with it a putrid smell that hangs around her like an unpleasant cloud. She has developed several annoying habits over the last many months that motivated us to drag her to the vet recently. He diagnosed her as having "OCD". For that I paid good money. Morgan is really my dog. She has been my constant shadow since puppyhood, a trait which, until only recently, I found completely endearing. There are about six things about that dog that are really starting to annoy me. When my kids need to find me they only need to look for Morgan...or, sadly, follow their noses. Anyway, I opened the back door last night to let my old dog in, paying little mind to her odoriferous entrance. I busied myself at the sink, and she assumed her usual stance at my side. Moments passed before she gave me a nudge and leaned in real close. I looked down, and what I saw by my side astonished me.

The year of the rat, indeed.

Now, please understand. It was no field mouse that Morgan held so tenderly in her mouth. It was, by all accounts, a creature most definitely here on vacation from the New York sewer system. The ruckus I made rousted the children from their beds, and sent all family members running. Thankfully. The one I was most glad to see was the Man, who was promptly sent out with the rodent. "And your little dog too!!!" (Insert Wicked Witch of the West here.) The kids have laughed and joked and carried on about it.

I'm. Not. Amused. There are now seven things about that dog I find annoying.

Moving right along, we had Chinese food for lunch today. (See there? A transition from rats to lunch. You with me??) We made a low table out of a box covered with a towel. We put a few cushions on the floor to sit on. (I think that is more of a Japanese tradition, but we never did that when we studied Japan, so we thought it would be fun today.) Years ago, my husband had a sweet Asian coworker who gave us a set of beautiful rice bowls from China. We used those bowls and ate with chopsticks. We left the LoMein noodles long, because in China, you eat long noodles if you want to have a long life. Tonight, it's the Man's turn to let the dog in.

Ode To The Tadpole

Today I went to check on Tad

And what I found made me quite sad

Growing frogs seems complicated

Tricky, yes, and over rated

A bullfrog Tad will never be

And I won't try for tadpole three

I've done this twice to no avail

At tadpole rearing I do fail

We said goodbye and that was hard

And then Tad fertilized my yard