Cute or Deadly?

Geez-o-Pete, we've been busy lately!  Not only am I deep into writing test preparation essay grading hell, but we've been actually doing stuff every weekend lately.  Usually, when people ask about our weekend plans I reply, "Nothing.  Absolutely nothing."  But lately we've been doing stuff--fantastic stuff, but stuff nonetheless.

Which means that I am tired.

This weekend we drove down to Ft. Lauderdale to visit with friends, and spent about 16 or so hours in the car.  I spent about five of those hours grading essays, and exactly zero of those hours sleeping.  For the record, sleeping is much more enjoyable than grading essays.  You can quote me on that.

While we were in Ft. Lauderdale, I took pictures, but apparently only of animals that are either extremely cute, extremely deadly, or some combination of the two.

Let's start with the extremely cute.

OH MY GOD BABY DUCKS.

 If Matt would have let me, I would have taken all of these babies home with us where they would have lived in the bathtub until I built a pond in the back yard where they would swim and do other duck things until I trained them to do quacking and dance routines a la the Huxtable children.

But Matt said no.  And he said that our friends Chandler and Joey tried that once and it was way more annoying than they thought it would be.

Plus, I'm not sure the grown-up ducks (which were the opposite of cute, by the way) were too keen on my ducknapping plan.

Maybe this one tried to kill me with its ugly red poison face?  (That's what my face looked like this summer when I was a poison ivy monster.)

Moving on, look at this gross baby dinosaur I saw when I was with Tanya.  Disgustment.  I followed it around a parking lot trying to get a picture until I climbed into a tree and moved around, and I got the willies and finally ran away screaming.  That's what happens when you chase a baby dinosaur.

Then we encountered this rare creature, Tanya's pug, Daphne.  Daphne is both cute and deadly, as she demonstrated with little funny howls and her look of death.  Daphne has killed three alligators in her South Florida neighborhood, and it's even gotten her on the news a couple of times.*

Finally, I returned home to find this creature, legs a' tangled, resting in its natural habitat.

*That did not happen.

Best Friends Forever

Watch this. Now. It'll make your heart soar.



Where do I find an orangutan? Pet Smart?

Photographic Evidence

Photographic evidence of a fun weekend in Augusta**:

And photographic evidence of two dogs who were exhausted after that fun weekend in Augusta:

It hurts me in my heart.

**Did Mitch puke up a Chihuahua?

Puppies Are Exhausting: A Post from Mitch

Hey you guys, it's me, Mitch. Oh man, I'm so exhausted right now. Let me tell you why.

First of all, I'm six. That's like forty three in dog years, which means that I'm middle-aged (immortal if you ask my mom). So I'm no young pup. Sure, when people stop me at the park to remark about how beautiful I am and to and ask about my breeding (American Dingo, natural selection all the way!), they are always so surprised to find out how old I am because I project such youth and vitality. But, I mean, that's just when I'm out for walks mostly. Because when I'm at home, I'm either sleeping on the bed, sleeping on the couch, sleeping under the bed, sleeping beside the couch, or sitting on the couch watching out for kids or mailmen (so that I can scare them with my loud and vicious-sounding bark.) Point is, when I'm on walks, I'm all about being Energy Dog, but when I'm at home, that's time for Mitch to relax.

When my mom and dad kept talking about this "spring break," I thought I might get to forget about some of my stresses, you know, like cats and bicycles and kids bouncing basketballs.

But apparently "break" is more like "stress," because I had a really stressful "break."

First there was Fletcher. I mean, we've talked about Fletcher. I kind of like him; I just wish that he would chill out. Come on, Fletcher. You don't have to be punching me in my face every waking minute of our visit together. We can just relax in a dirt spot. And wipe that grin off your face. Okay, and like, when I first met Fletcher, he wasn't that much bigger than Reilly, but now he's as big as I am! What the hell is that? I'll tell you one thing, Mitch is not okay with Fletcher getting bigger and bigger.

Basically, with Fletcher I just growl and growl and maybe snap. Sometimes I can get him on the ground and start "dancing" with his face, but not too often. Fletcher is so strong! But he sure is handsome--so handsome that it's hard to overcome my desire to "dance" with his face.

So, anyway, Fletcher came, and he was only here for a day, and I was all, "Thank goodness! I'm so tired!" So I had a day of rest. Only a day. One day. That's it.

Because the next day we had another visitor, Phebe. Phebe is even younger than Fletcher, but she's not quite as big, which was nice. And you know what she did? She ate my bones! Sure, I had my own bone the whole time, but she'd just saunter over to MY bed and start chewing on a bone that came from MY bone jar. So you know what I'd do? I'd drop the bone I was chewing on, march my dog butt over to Phebe, and take that bone back from her. Why? Because I'm Mitch, and sometimes I'm an asshole.

Phebe was here for a couple days, and she did get better. I even decided to give up on being so jealous about bones. She liked to run, so I would chase her around the house trying to wear her out, but you know what? You pretty much can't wear out a puppy. They have so much energy! What the hell, you guys?

Then Phebe left, and so did my mom and dad (Thanks a lot, Mom and Dad. It's not like I wanted to go to the lake or anything. I hate the lake. Oh yeah, that's right. I LOVE the lake. And now I hate you guys.) I thought that with everyone gone I would finally get some solace, but I was again mistaken, because Reilly came over. Now, Reilly time is like really exhausting but also really fun (kind of like a trip to Mexico, except that I didn't get to go to Mexico, either.  That was just another example of Mitch being left behind.  I seriously would bite my parents if they didn't sprinkle parmesan cheese over my food), and he's getting older and more into naps, so we had a great time. We even rented some of the old Air Bud movies and popped popcorn. Maybe you didn't know this, but dogs LOVE popcorn. And also steak.

And no sooner did Reilly leave than Mom and Dad returned. I mean, can't a dog relax?  I really need my alone time!

Mom and Dad are back at work now, and whining about getting up early and needing rest, but I'm happy, because I needed to get some rest to make up for that "break."

More Proof that Dogs Are Better than Babies

On the eve of our dog child's sixth birthday (42!), we give you a smiling dog (I dare you not to smile when you watch her), Mitch's Japanese dog girlfriend:



AND, a link to a really cool article, "The Rise of Dog Identity Politics", as featured on Daily Dish.

Quick quote:

"Oxytocin is the most important social-bonding hormone, present notably between mother and child but also in just about any interaction involving pair bonding, social affiliation, and trust. More specifically, it’s involved with the gaze between infants and mothers. Researchers at Azabu University in Japan found last year that the dog’s gaze at its owner increases the owner’s oxytocin level."

I believe it. That pup, with his cute ears and his dog smiles and his snugglin', has made our lives better for six years now. (Well, six years minus some weeks--the Mitchaversary isn't until the end of March.)

Tomorrow's plan: buy a new Kong for the dog (to keep him busy during Lost) and some homemade pupcakes (bacon chicken pupcakes, to be exact).

Best Dog Friends: A Post from Mitch

Hey you guys, it's me, Mitch. Man, I haven't been on here in forever! Things were just crazy for me during the holidays, and I'm just now getting back on track.

I mean, things were so crazy because I spent a lot of my holiday season playing host to dog friends. Reilly was here for Thanksgiving AND for Christmas, and we had so much fun together. I mean, Reilly is so funny. First of all, he's tiny! Second of all, he has gigantic ears. I mean, his ears are as big as mine, and he's a fraction of my size!

Oh, and I saw Fletcher a few times over the holidays, too. Fletcher seems to be coming around. I only hate him a little bit now. I think he'll be okay once he gets a little more mature. I mean, like, now he just torments me, like, nonstop. He's almost as big as I am now, and he punches! Did you know that dogs can punch? Well, they can, and it hurts.

(Neither Reilly nor Fletcher have tails, and they're both really jealous of mine. And, forgive my conceit, but I have a pretty snazzy tail. When I go to the park I overhear lots of dogs commenting on what a beautiful tail I have.)

I've also been busy lately with the usual: lying in my dirt spot in the back yard, snuggling with my mom and dad, pre-washing the dishes, barking at kids who walk down the street, barking at the mailman, barking at the neighbor when he takes out his trash, and catching up on Madmen. That show has such good writers! Oh yeah, and I've started to pen a new Air Bud movie, but I'm not at liberty to tell you any more than that.

After having Reilly here for so much of the holiday, I've grown used to having another dog friend around.

I kind of miss this little guy. I mean, look at those ears. What'd I tell you?
When he was here, I just wanted to hold onto him and cuddle and be happy.
(And watch Animal Planet and eat homemade treats.)


Me and Reilly, we're like peas and carrots. Now, if only Fletcher would lie down on the couch and spoon with me! Until then, I'll continue growling at him and humping his face. (Face humping is a great remedy for punches.)

Dog Friends

Reilly is back!

Before, Mitch would get lonely on the couch.

But not anymore.

Friends. That's what Mitchmas is all about.

Don't Forget the Pups!

I love to bake.

BUT, I am about two cookies and a Spicy Chicken Go Wrap away from looking like this.

So I decided to bake for the pups instead. It is Mitchmas, after all. And I made a score today when I found a squirrel-shaped cookie cutter to use for Mitch treats.

Since I don't want Wii Fit to tell me I am obese, since all of my friends seem to have pups, and since Mitch goes BANANAS! for them, I made about 300 doggie treats today.

Mitch was by my side. He loves the dough.

And I love my tiny bone cookie cutter. I mean, come on. Is there anything more adorable than homemade pup treats that are the size of a quarter?

Oh yeah, there's Mitchell Pancake. . .

. . .who has never been through obedience training.

Here's the recipe. Make them. Your pup will thank you.

Dog Treats from Annie's Eats
Ingredients:
1 cup rolled oats
5 1/3 tbsp. unsalted butter, cut into 5 pieces
1 cup boiling water
3/4 cup cornmeal
2 tsp. sugar
2 tsp. beef bouillon granules
1/2 cup milk
1 cup shredded Cheddar cheese
1 egg, beaten
3 cups whole wheat flour

Directions:
Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. In a large bowl, combine the rolled oats, butter, and boiling water. Let stand for 10 minutes. Grease cookie sheets.

Add the cornmeal, sugar, beef bouillon, milk, Cheddar cheese, and egg to the bowl. Mix well. Stir in the whole wheat flour, 1 cup at a time, until a stiff dough has formed. Transfer the dough to a lightly floured surface and knead, adding additional flour if necessary until the dough is smooth and no longer sticky.

Divide the dough in half. Working with one half at a time, roll the dough out with a rolling pin to 1/2-inch thickness. Cut with a cookie cutter and space evenly on prepared baking sheets. Reroll remaining dough scraps and continue cutting until all dough has been used.

Bake 35-45 minutes in the preheated oven, until golden brown. Let cool completely.

Happy baking!

Fashion for Pups

In addition to the human guests we're hosting this Thanksgiving, we've also got Reilly, Mitch's dog friend. Reilly's become one of the family, and the big dog/little dog dynamic never fails to amuse me.

They're in a snuggling competition. Here they are snuggling on the couch with Grandpa Bruce.

The dogs have developed similar traits, in large part because Reilly emulates Mitch's every move. If Mitch does something, so does Reilly.

Except for one thing, wearing clothes. Matt laid down the law when we got Mitch (and by "when we got him" I mean "when I birthed him") and said that Mitch is not allowed to wear clothes. Really, the rule is that I'm not allowed to torture my big furry dog with unnecessary and silly clothing. It's fair, I guess. I just buy him snazzy collars to keep him fashionable.

But Reilly IS allowed to wear clothes; in fact, when it's cold outside, they may even be necessary. He shivers if he's not wearing them!

So I always buy clothes for Reilly--only the most stylish and trendy pieces, of course. For example, this ugly dog Christmas sweater from the $2.50 bin at Target. Are you kidding me? Ugly sweaters for dog? SCORE!

Also in the $2.50 bin was this little '80s throwback jacket. This one makes him look like he could be a character on Wet Hot American Summer.

But one piece of attire that I didn't get Reilly, but that he showed up to our house wearing, is his Snuggie for dogs. Yay.

We've already discussed the hilarity of the Snuggie/Snuggie for Dogs, so it probably won't surprise you that this picture was on the back of the box.

Reilly sports his Snuggie with pride. He loves the warmth it provides, and he loves to wear it when he's reading (using the bonus book light!). Really, he loves all of his clothes.

And they don't slow him down a bit.

(One of the best things about dogsitting Reilly is watching him and Mitch take turns chasing one another around the back yard.)

Happy Thanksgiving to you! I must go baste!

**Yes, I've read, too, that basting is unnecessary, but I like it, and I just brush butter and spices over the bird. Matt loves what it does to the skin, and would be heartbroken if I did anything differently.

Phebe! (A post from Mitch)

Hey, guys, it's me Mitch. I just wanted to announce that I have a new dog cousin/girlfriend (we're really old-fashioned) named Phebe. She's gorgeous, and I can't wait to put my scent on her.

Congrats, Aunt Caitie!