Stuff I like

A friend just pointed me to this blog, Chocolate and Zucchini. Perhaps the entire world already knows about it, but I just discovered it, and I love her voice and her taste for all things chocolatey and good.

I have also recently been active on http://www.blacklabrador.com/, to get advice and reassurance from all of the seasoned black lab owners out there. It helps to calm my nerves when Rosie's been particularly stubborn and rambunctious.

I've been drinking Aranciata every day for lunch. I am developing a habit.

I've been faithfully attending my pottery classes again this session, but I have to admit it's hard for me to work up the motivation. I don't like feeling pressured re: the wheels, since there are too many people in the class for everyone to have a wheel, and I'm running out of inspired ideas for other projects. Also, I don't feel right being away for 2.5 hours on a wednesday, leaving hubby alone with Rosie at her craziest time of day.

I've not had much time for anything else these days, but I did start my seeds. I started "Ring of Fire" cayenne peppers, "Frank's" red peppers, "Tigerella" tomatoes, and "Principe Borghese" paste tomatoes. So far nothing's shown it's face yet. There's no rush, it was minus 21 out this morning.

I've also finally primed the wall where our new window is, so I will soon be able to hang the curtains again. That ought to buy us some time until we finish the window mouldings. I think we're a bit stymied by the style of the window - neither of us seems to be able to figure out how to finish the trim.

And finally, I really like my Rosie. She's a fun kid. Still the cutest damn dog on the block.









So that's my life this week. What are you up to?

Pseudo-mommy

Phew! (pant pant pant).

Well finally our little pup came home, and I am very happy to be introducing Rosie to the reader(s) of this blog.

She's a spitfire. Approximately 9-10 lbs of pure joy and exhuberance, just bursting at the seams and ready to play. She's nuts cute eh? I don't mean to brag, but I daresay I have the cutest dog in the world. Tied quite closely with her big brother Tonka, my brother's pup, who is a jolly good-natured, easy-going bruiser.

So this thinly-veiled attempt at motherhood is so far putting me through my paces. I've been reflecting on what it is to become a parent of a dog vis-à-vis the parent of a human. There are many similarities, and many stark differences. Herewith, I outline the differences:

Human: when they need to pee at 3 a.m., they do it in their diapers in bed, often while sleeping.

Dog: when they need to pee at 3 a.m., I have to stand outside in -20 degrees and snow in my housecoat and slippers, and then attempt to fall back asleep.

Human: When they want to play, there's mess involved.

Dog: When they want to play, more often than not there's biting involved.

Human: Eventually they will pick up commands such as "can you take this shovel and put it back in the garden shed? And bring me those gloves on the shelf? Thanks."

Dog: I would be happy with "Go get your ball! Come to momma!"

Human: When they play with cats, they can be indelicate.

Dog: When she plays with the cats, it's a mess of teeth, claws, fur, hissing and barking.

Human: Wears clothes.

Dog: Wears every scrap of dirt that ever fell on our floors.

Human: The results of their elimination end up in a diaper genie or down the toilet.

Dog: The results of her elimination end up all over my deck. Really nice in the rain! My siding got spattered with dog poo!

Human: When you cook dinner, you can put them in a high chair.

Dog: When you cook dinner, you have to designate a dog-minder, and work in carefully orchestrated shifts in order to maintain her frenzied state, so that you have a chance of sleeping through the night.

Human: Knocks over or plays with/ruins houseplants.

Dog: Eats houseplants.

Hubby's co-workers yesterday assured him that what we're going through is much worse than having a baby. They remarked on the bags under his eyes, the frenzied, desperate look on his face. The clothes that didn't quite match and were pulled slightly apart at the cuffs. Teeth marks in his belt. Yep, for the most part, babies don't bite, and you don't have to go back to work the day after having them, leaving them to their own devices.

I'm only joking about the comparisons to human babies. But I have no experience with having a human baby so I'm taking what I can get and running with it. All I know is that babies snuggle without biting your lips.

Oh and I don't want to seem as though I'm complaining. Rosie is an awesome little dog. She's smart, feisty, loving, snuggly, super cute and very curious. She lets us know what she does and doesn't like, and she is learning lessons daily. I've even almost got her fetching... not bad after 5 days. She has pretty much taken to her crate, and goes in without protest (when she's asleep or halfway there). When she plays, half the time she grabs her toy and scrambles into my lap, as I sit on the floor, to play with it. It's really very adorable.

She's got us on a pretty short leash though. I have to work on the 'dominance' issue, because Rosie is a pretty dominant, self-confident dog. She bites a lot, which is apparently natural as she's teething with her first round of chompers. She bites everything in sight. She isn't yet tall enough to climb the stairs (this morning she slid down three of them on her chin: ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump - I felt so bad) but dammit she'll keep trying. She's fascinated by Loki - he makes her totally crazy. That actually stresses me out quite a bit because I didn't really expect it for some reason, I thought the cats would stay away from the dog and that Loki would beat her up if they mixed - I was actually worried about her safety. He does, but she still gets way too close for comfort and obviously hasn't learned the lesson just yet. I feel like he can train her not to bite better than I can and he needs to step up to the plate. Oh well. They only interact for short periods of the day. For the most part, Loki's still got the run of the house. Sasha is freaked out completely but has taken to eating her meals on our dining room table (at the end where we don't sit) and is now starting to come around. I feel good if I can get her purring a few times a day. Rosie's not that crazy-interested in her for some reason. Probably because they're not the same colour...

Things Rosie really likes include: Loki, my hair, her nylabone, her squeaky squirrel, the monkey cushion which she's adopted, towels in general, tassled rugs, hands, plants, eating snow, tummy rubs, cat food, boots (she stuffs her whole face into them, it's hysterical), hunting for ants (don't judge me, I have ants), trying to get up onto the couch, and the variegated legs of the kitchen chairs.

OK I miss her. Only 3 hours and 20 minutes until we're home. I have to hold out.

Two more big sleeps

Happy valentine's day.

Notice that I used lower-case letters up there. I am not a celebrator of valentine's day - oh I know lots of people say they're not into valentine's and then they still expect cards and flowers, but I am different. I am lucky to get a chocolate or something from hubby, and he usually gets nothing from me but a kiss. I just feel like it's a useless, pink, arbitrary holiday. I don't celebrate anything that doesn't get me a day off work (St. Patrick's day, I'm looking at you) with the obvious exception of Halloween.

The fact that it's February 14, however, means that the puppies are ready to go to their new homes. It means that there are 2 more big sleeps until our little squirmy bundle of love is introduced to our house, our two jealous cats, our area rugs and all of our chewable belongings. We built her a nice pen in the living room so she can spend her days peeing and pooping on newspapers, contained, while still feeling like a part of the family, able to observe the cats and the comings and goings outside the patio door. It's sunny, and right beside the woodstove, and right in the centre of activity in our house. I've put a little bed in it but that's already changed, I have a little day-time sleeping crate in there for her now. Her large night-time crate has arrived at the bus station as well, courtesy of my girlfriend in B.C., so I can decorate that at make it cozy before her arrival Saturday morning.

Here's the pen:

Also, I think we've settled on a name: Rosie. Not after the O'Donnell version, more like the Riveter one. It sounds awfully close to "Loki" but we'll have to emphasize the "Z" sound when calling her.

As you can imagine, it's all about dogs these days in my world. Dog this dog that. I am obsessive, as you've probably surmised from my other posts, and so for the months of February/March it is all about dogs. I have been googling dog stuff, reading up on dog training techniques, google-imaging pictures of 7-week old Black Lab puppies, just to get my fix pre-Rosie. I have told everyone I meet and have shown her picture to all of my co-workers. I have quizzed my girlfriend until she's thoroughly sick of me. I have asked for tips from a dog-trainer friend of ours. I have purchased toys, a bed, a leash, a collar, a brush, some tennis balls, food, treats, and today I will go invest in a wee Kong for the little lady, to give her something to work on during the day while we're away. I've scrounged up a training harness, a giant dog bowl with a big suction cup on the bottom, a jaunty stripey placement (seen in the photo), small dishes (left over from Peter, R.I.P.). I've made a large dog bowl in pottery class, and I've even spool-knitted a long looped and knotted rope to hang from the doorknob with bells on it, so I can train her to let us know when she has to pee. Eventually. I have been a complete pain in the ass. I am nothing if not eager, and am very very thorough.

I have even been priming the cats by telling them that we're getting them a puppy. I don't know if it's sunken in yet, but they are naturally very curious about the pen.

Also, in other news, I did join the gym and have now gone three times. I tried to go four times, but the first time my pass-key didn't work, so that was discouragement number one. The first time I actually went was a bit of a washout. I didn't have great clothes - I threw together some old stretchy pants and a yucky t-shirt that didn't really match, since I believed that the gym would be empty after work hours. I was wrong. I also didn't have proper shoes, so was wearing flat-bottom skateboard sneakers that I dug out of the bottom of the closet and cleared of dust-bunnies and spider carcasses. I felt embarrassed. My shoes felt like clown-shoes. My Mp3 player wasn't charged up. It felt like it wasn't meant to be. When I approached the machine, I couldn't figure out how to turn it on and, like a dunce, figured it was out of order and went to try another one. When I realized they were all like that, and I'd hit all the buttons with no effect, I got frustrated and left. When I got back to the change room I thought "don't be such a baby" and went back to the gym, got on the machine, and PRESTO! it came on automatically. Duh. So I spent awhile fiddling with the buttons (what kind of workout? Heart monitoring? Cardio? Weight Loss? For how long? At what level?) and finally got to work out for about half an hour. It felt great.

Then I went and got some cheapo gym-type sneakers, standard-issue, and charged up my Mp3 player, and wore my black yoga pants, and a decent top that matched. I've been twice since and have developed my own little routine, and I feel great afterwards, so I've told my husband to make sure I stick with it, because I know myself and will quit as soon as I have the first good excuse. I will never be a gym bunny, but with the right music it is quite enjoyable. I figure if I go two or three times a week for 40 minutes, I'll be way better off than I am now in many different ways.

Along the same lines, I went to the fertility doctor again last week. I had been avoiding him. I had been unsatisfied with the treatment and sort of feeling like they were trying to make a buck out of me. But I have changed my tune. I went in there believing that I would stomp in, put my foot down and insist on progressing with IUI treatments. But he discouraged me for all good reasons, not the least of which is financial. So I guess I trust him again. I'm going back on the meds (monitored this time, as he seems to think I'm a "triplet risk" which would be a nightmare), and getting more tests, and staying the course. It's a bit frustrating but what the heck.

At least I have the fur children.

A Whole New World

Wow, so this past weekend I had my socks knocked off by the world's cutest puppies.

Before I knew it, hubby had one in his arms and as he was passing it to me, he said "go see mummy!" by mistake. Oops indeed. As of this writing, we now have a puppy waiting for us with a tiny red collar on and a special haircut to mark her. Our little bundle of joy. Typically, I picked the shy one, the runt of the litter (one of 11!), the one who wasn't as eager to jump into the pile of writhing sleeping biting climbing smothering other black puppies.

She's a girl, and she's adorable. I am a proud new mother.

So now we are tasked with the enviable job of finding a name for this little sweetie pie. So far, the top contenders for names are: Pixie (her mom's name is Trixie, and she's the smallest of the litter), Cricket (because she's small and black), and Lola. Her mum is a beautiful, happy and humungous one-year-old Golden Retriever and her dad (R.I.P.) was a Black Lab, a championship hunting dog who made this his one beautiful final act. I don't think she'll end up being as tiny - I have a habit of super-sizing my pets.

Her biggest brother is going to my brother, which is nice, because they'll grow up together and have the chance to play together a lot with someone else their own size (kind of) since we live 3 minutes apart. That's his butt in the foreground. He's a real bruiser.

I have visions of having the dog in our red canoe, having the dog on the boat, having the dog camping on islands, having the dog on road trips, having the dog while ice fishing, having the dog on long walks in the woods, teaching the dog to swim, gently. Having the dog hang out while I garden. Having the dog be raised by my two giant cats, who will totally dominate her in the first few months, and maybe later as well, at least until she realizes how big she is. The cats are easily twice her size right now. Hubby has visions of them riding around on her back, and has made them promise not to use their claws on her.

I want to buy her healthy chew toys, healthy dog food, healthy treats, and healthy bedding. My girlfriend's sending us her crate, for bedtime, and we now have to figure out where her potty-training zone is going to be while we're away at work. She'll need a room, with a baby gate, covered in a tarp and newspapers on top of that. Problem is, we don't really have rooms like that, like other people do - laundry rooms or utility rooms or spare bathrooms. All of our extra rooms are in the basement, and it's too cold and lonely down there for a baby pup.

I'm registering her with the municipality, getting her license, getting her checked by the vet and getting her microchipped. We're going to do this all right.

I am so ready to be a parent it's completely ridiculous. Just when I thought there was not much hope for me, this is filling the niche quite nicely. We have been waiting for the "right time;" for a rescue dog, or for maternity leave when I'll be home all day. But the following factors made our minds up for us:

- we met a vet at a party who had two dogs, and she keeps them inside all day, and they're fine.

- these puppies were made known to us the day after the party - it's karma.

- I may never go on maternity leave - why wait for that?

- even if I did go on maternity leave, who wants to potty train a puppy while dealing with a new baby?

- we're never going to be unemployed otherwise -may as well bite the bullet and get it over with now, as difficult as it may be.

So here's our babe, our sweet little girl. I will keep you updated on her progress, of course, and post more pictures when I bring her home.

Oh, also I joined the gym at work.

Help me! I'm stranded!

Alright I'm just being dramatic.

Today we are experiencing inclement weather conditions. I actually got a memo in my inbox here at work at about 2 p.m. that said "due to inclement weather conditions all _____ employees are permitted to leave at 3 p.m." I have never received that particular memo before, so it got me all excited, except that I'm a commuter so I really am powerless to leave work early and that's why I'm sitting here stranded at work, in a blizzard, quietly writing my blog like a big dork. I'm now trying to decide which junk food I should indulge in, just because of the fun snow-day-like setting (chocolate or chips? The eternal question.)

I think everyone all over the internets has gone home for the day because I don't think I've received an email that wasn't from my husband in at least 2 hours.

So here's the news, for those who care:

• Have not joined the gym yet; will do so Monday (I promise)
• Have not yet gotten a puppy, but am still enthusiastic and karma's brought one my way, so I believe it's in my near future. Like, two weeks.
• I have a cold.

I am very excited about the idea of being a dog-mother. The puppies which have become available are a Golden Retriever/Black lab mix, and there are 11 of them. My brother and his girlfriend are considering it as well, so we two siblings could have two siblings, which is fun. They'll be ready to go (12 weeks?) on Feb. 14 or so, so we'd have a couple of weeks to get used to the idea, to get everything out of chewing range, to cover up my wires, and to buy a dog bed. I have never had a dog, but I can picture it - walks, having a companion by my side, having a warm body lying across my feet while I watch t.v. at night, having a large defender for the cats. Apparently these puppies' father is a champion hunting dog, so that could be interesting.

I feel like I'd need a short maternity leave, however. Maybe a week, just to get used to having the kid around. We're gone from the house for long stretches, so I hope it'll be ok, but it will have the cats as companions and I'm sure they'll raise him/her to be an obediant little soldier. My Loki takes no crap. Sasha on the other hand might just permanently move under the bed, but I'm not worried - she needs to toughen up. She's becoming a sissy in her old age.

I will keep you all updated.