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."

A Perfect Day

What a week it's been!  This time last week I was frantically cleaning the house and running errands so that I could relax and enjoy birthday/spring break.  And after an incredible birthday celebration I got to hang out with Caitie and her daughter Phebe for a few days (and now we're relaxing at Matt's parents' lake house--more on that later). 

I hadn't had that much time to just hang out with Caitie--stress free--since we were roommates in college.  Those days were pretty glorious: roller skating around Harrisonburg, stalking professors, ganging up on our other roommates, sitting on the sidewalk waiting for cute boys to ride past on bicycles, eating freez-e-pops, skipping class, and lying on her ridiculously comfortable bed watching the "I'm so excited, I'm so excited, I'm so--scared" episode of Saved by the Bell.  You get the picture. 

But we're grown-ups now, and being a grown-up is sometimes less fun than roller skating past a professor's house trying to catch a glimpse of her new Chinese baby.  Now we have real responsibilites and slower metabolism and stressors and bills, and even though life is still good, it's rarely as carefree as it used to be.  But this week?  This week has been like those days on Grattan Street. 

After waging war on pollen and these supposed allergies, I woke up yesterday able to breathe through my nose.  I took a bath, painted my toenails, cleaned the house, blogged, and waited for Caitie to get up.  Then we shopped and lunched and shopped some more.  I bought my one millionth hoodie:

And then we went to Forsyth Park on what might have been the most beautiful afternoon of the year.  Phebe came, too.  And I took 600 pictures of her.

Look at that FACE!

After people-watching and Phebe-watching, we met up with Matt and got ice cream at the Forsyth Park Cafe. 

And then?  Then what did we do?

UNIVERSOUL CIRCUS!

We had really good seats--so good that I was kind of hoping that one of the tigers would attack the trainer, because I could get good pictures of it.  But we don't always get what we want.  (I felt really bad for the tigers and elephants in the show.  I did not feel bad for the troupe of trickster poodles, which was probably Caitie's favorite part of the whole circus, because it was really obvious that their trainer loved them.) 

Meow!

The only disappointing part of UniverSoul was that the cage of death jumper guys from last year weren't part of the show. Good thing there's YouTube.

 When I called Matt during intermisison to tell him that we hadn't seen them, he responded, "Yeah, because they probably died."  Hopefully not.  (They're not being mean to tigers, so I'm more worried about their safety.)

When we returned home, Matt had dinner ready (we use chicken instead of shrimp), and then we all ate and talked and drank too much.

To sum up:  baths, beautification, shopping, lunching, parks, pups, pictures, ice cream, circus, pasta, wine, friends, and husbands.  It doesn't get much better than that.

Your Turn--A Post from Mitch

Hey, guys. It's me, Mitch. Well, I mean, there hasn't been too much going on lately. I turned six, and my mom gave me a Kong. That was pretty cool. Plus, my friend Reilly has been here a lot and that's pretty great. He is so little and funny!

Oh, and a new dog moved in a couple of houses down. He's a black dog, and he has really long hair. I'm feeling him out, doing some sniffing and stuff, trying to decide if he's got friend potential.

I was pretty jealous a few weeks ago every time I'd be reading my dog blogs, because it seemed like it was snowing everywhere. I mean, could I see another picture of a dog running through some snow tunnel or playing fetch with snowballs? I'd never even seen it snow (though Aunt Chloe and I did play fetch with snowballs one Mitchmas). Now, I'm a wild swamp dog--born and raised in Savannah--but even a Southern dog needs some variety every now and again. But it snowed here, and one thing I realized--I mean, snow is a lot like rain, only frozen and cold. So it was cool for a minute, but I'm pretty glad that it went away. I'll stick with the swamps. And by swamps I mean the couch and the bed, and occasionally a trip to my grandparents' lake house.

But you know what other dogs--Fletcher, Phebe, Ein, Skylar, Aunt Doo Doo, Annie--guess what? It's your turn to be jealous. You can be jealous because it's turning to spring here now, and it's been absolutely gorgeous outside. I'm talking sunny and 70 degrees and absolutely perfect. And you know what else? We live by a big awesome park. Boo yah!

When I went outside on Sunday I was so excited, because it was SOOOOOOOOOO pretty. I howled to all of the dog neighbors to tell them to get outside and soak up some of this sunshine!

And then I found a big stick in the yard. I mean, am I the luckiest dog in the world or what?

I tried to give my scariest look when my mom tried to take it from me.

Right after this I escaped from the back yard when Mama wasn't looking and ran to the black dog. I invited him to the park, but he couldn't come because he had to dig a hole. So I went to the park with my mom and dad, and it was just great. I love the park, love the smells, love the scenery, love harassing the bird with the red stuff on his head. Plus, I get to meet lots of other dogs.

And our park even has water fountains for dogs! I mean, is that cool or what? I guess the only bad thing about the walk was that the dog water fountains were broken, so I had to use a human one.

Don't be grossed out. I washed my paws afterward.

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!