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Out for a Ride

The simple joys of being a dog…

Going for car rides…

Molly was a happy dog during her recent outing!

Pooped

I have a huge assignment due next week for one of my classes, so I decided to use today to get a jump on it.

I worked ALL day while the dogs kept me company.

Apparently my exertion wore them out…

I am glad SOMEONE was getting some rest…

Pele Finds Religion

Monday night, I attended a band booster meeting.  Then, I had to pick up Rooster from his college class.

Meanwhile, Pele was busy…

I found this after I got home, and let me tell you…I was not happy.  Mondays are long enough as it is, but to find my brand new devotion book chewed up really frustrated me.

I turned the book on its spine and saw evidence of Pele attempting to read it.  The corners of the pages were chewed on…

I guess Martin Luther’s writings were too much for Pele to resist.

It appears as if my fur baby has found religion.

Pele is on a Tear

You might remember that I have three dogs.

Pele is the “middle child” and technically belongs to Chicky…

Well…ever since the family returned to a regular routine after Christmas, Pele has had his fur in a wad.  I guess he got spoiled having people home all day.

And so Pele has regressed…

To his puppy days…

To his chewing phase…

First, he mangled a much-loved Christmas decoration…a snowman…

Even the snowballs did not survive…

RIP, Mr. Snowman…

As you might have noticed, the dates on the pictures indicated that he did his misdeed before Christmas; however, I think he was just practicing.

Since Christmas, Pele has been digging in the trash and, basically, chewing almost everything he can find.

It hasn’t helped to put things on tables.  He just pulls them off too.

Take, for instance, a couple of pages from a magazine that I had left on my end table this week.

When I got home yesterday, this is what I found…

One measly piece of a full page.

Ironically, look at what managed to survive…

Yeah.  I can hear you chuckling.

See, in last month’s issue of All You, I had found an essay contest.  As you can see, the topic was one I could relate to.

Apparently it drew Pele’s attention as well.

At least he was kind enough to save the instructions for me.

Bad Dog

Participles kicked my behind today.

I desperately needed a laugh.

Pele provided it.

I walked past Rooster’s room this evening and noticed this…

 

So I followed the trail to see where it would lead…

Good thing he’s so cute…

 

Two Peas in a Pod

This is Molly…

 

This is me…

 

I was the one who saw Molly at the animal shelter, and it was because of my instant love for her that she came home with me.

It didn’t take long before I realized that we are two peas in a pod.

Molly marches to the beat of her own drummer.

So do I.

Molly possesses a “leader of the pack” mentality, as do I.

Molly is leery of strangers.

I am shy in front of new people.  In fact, my least favorite part of church services is when we have to shake hands with people around us.

Molly barks for whatever reason she chooses.

So do I.  In fact, I’ve been known to start barking the moment I enter the house.

Molly retreats to her hiding place under the bed when a crowd arrives at the house.

I actively seek out solitude to help me deal with family gatherings.

It’s no wonder that Molly sensed my stress tonight and emerged from her corner to comfort me in the midst of my self-imposed time out.

In that moment, I felt a very strong connection with my four-legged fur baby.

Truly, we are two peas in a pod.

Bonnie and Clyde – On the Run Again

Please study the following picture closely…see if you can figure out what’s wrong with it…

What?  You can’t figure it out?

I’ll give you a clue.

Those are my dogs, but they’re not exactly standing in my yard.

Oh no.

See, I was standing in my driveway when I took that picture.

And all I could repeat, over and over, was, “Stupid dogs, stupid dogs, stupid dogs.”

Grrr.

Sometimes it is difficult to be me.

Things always seem to happen at just the wrong time.

What led to the above picture?

Well, it all started last night.  Rooster came home from youth group and announced that one of the lenses in his glasses was missing.

Say what?

I should have taken a picture of them.  Bad blogger.

He was very apologetic as he explained that he had no idea how he had lost it.  All he knew was that one moment he had it, and the next, it was gone.

Poof.

He should get his own show in Vegas.

My friend, Taylor, would surely understand.  She has a boy-child who has managed to lose or break every pair of glasses he has owned.  And he is all of three years of age, I think.

Well, because Rooster desperately needs his glasses to do such important things as see in school and drive, I called Eye Masters and cajoled them into shaving 1/2 off of the price to replace it.  I mean…he’s only had the glasses a month.  Doesn’t this speak of shoddy workmanship?

But, to get the glasses fixed ASAP, we had to leave right away.

Rooster and I got in the car, and I started backing out.  I hit the button on the garage door opener and watched as the door started to come down.

And then…

A blur…

Two blurs, actually…

One white and one brown.

Oh no.

Molly and Pele.

Bonnie and Clyde…reincarnated from the dead…

Now, this isn’t a new thing, and I should have known better.

Just like the bank-robbing couple, where Bonnie was in charge, and Clyde did the heavy lifting, so it is with Molly and Pele.

Molly is the brains…

Don’t let her cuteness fool you.  I think that people said Bonnie was pretty (before she got all shot up in the end).

And Pele…well, he’s the muscle and will foolishly follow along…

Seeing him smile like that makes me see red after what he puts me through each day.

Here’s how their great adventures begin…

From what I’ve noticed, when someone goes outside, Molly starts the run to the door.  Pele runs behind her, jumps on the door handle, and turns it…opening the door to freedom.

It used to be funny.

Until days like today – when we needed to be somewhere ten minutes ago.

Grrr…

I have learned that the dogs suddenly develop hearing loss when I call them in.  It’s best to completely ignore them and take the fun out of the chase.

But, like I said…we were in a hurry.

So, on a whim, I ran inside and grabbed a jar of peanut butter.  I put some on my finger, called Molly, and held out the treat to her.

Stupid dog.

She ran close to me but took off again before I could grab her…not even interested in the peanut butter.

Stupid dog.

I put the peanut butter away and grabbed a bag of baby carrots.  My dogs LOVE these.

I went outside and tried to coax them to come to me.  This was the picture I got of them…

What?  Don’t see the dogs?

Yeah.  That’s right.  That’s because the dumb dogs ran right past me.

Bonnie and Clyde would have been so proud.

I continued to hold out the proverbial carrot, and finally, Molly got too close…sneaking in a lick as I grabbed her collar…

Just like Clyde giving up the fight, so Pele gave up as well…glumly trotting back into the house, tail between his legs.

Turd.

Yes, I just said that.  It’s mild compared to what I would have liked to say to them, but which I didn’t because I do not have a potty mouth.

Fortunately, the dogs are too stinking cute for their own good…

Bonnie and Clyde live to see another day.

One “Mo” Crazy Day

So, you know that yesterday was my first day as a teacher.

I shared the emotional highs of the day.

What I neglected to mention was how my day began and ended…

Chicky had just taken my picture, and she was about to head out to work with her sports trainer.

I had gone to the garage to start putting stuff in my car.

All of a sudden, I heard loud scratching, followed by the sound of jingling collars…

My precocious fur babies had escaped!

Oh sure…they look all sweet and innocent in the above picture, but believe me, behind those precious faces are wheels that are constantly in motion…coming up with new ways to make me crazy.

I honestly don’t know who is the instigator.  I strongly suspect it’s Molly.  Pele provides the muscle, and the two of them make for a well-oiled machine.

So, they got out and took off out of the garage.

My heart fell.

It was 6:30, and I wanted to be at school by 7.

My pups love a good chase, so it looked doubtful as to if I would be able to round them up in time.

To make matters worse, I had not put on their collars yet.

Sure, they have microchips, but still.

Ugh.

I went back inside to ruminate.  Over the last three years that Little Miss Escape Artist has lived here, we have been through this many times.

I have discovered that part of the fun is in the chase.

I sneak up behind them, they play like they are going to let me catch them, and then they take off as I make a dive, catching nothing but air and a mouthful of grass.

Not pretty.

Anyhoo…

I heard Chicky start the car, so I thought she was leaving; however, when I went outside a minute later, I saw that she had barely backed out of the driveway.

She was standing outside the car, a smile on her face.

The dogs, it would seem, decided they weren’t in the mood to run, and Molly had returned of her own volition.

Yes, folks, if you ever doubted God’s existence, let this be proof.

He had mercy (doesn’t He always) on wee little me, knowing that being late for work on my first day was not a good thing.

We put the dogs inside, praising them all the way, and I left for school.

So, my day went on (I’ll share a cute school story tomorrow).  It was incredibly wonderful.

Meanwhile, Chicky and Rooster had gone on a day-long biking excursion with my church’s youth group.  This is Youth Week, and there are activities going on through Wednesday.  The kids look forward to this every summer.  It is a great way to end the summer and kick off the new school year.

The only bad thing about today’s trip, though, was that I had scheduled an eye appointment for Rooster.  At the time, I did not have the schedule of events for the week.

So, Chicky and Rooster had to drive a separate vehicle and leave a little early so he could get back in time.

I had a game plan…

As soon as school let out, I would meet the kids at the eye doctor’s office.

When I got there, I did not see the kids.  They were running a little behind, so I let the front desk know.  Of course, this was the ONE day when they were actually right on schedule.

Go figure.

I have that kind of luck, you know.

Meanwhile, I kept calling Rooster…”Are you almost here?”

Ugh.  That is a horrible feeling.

I stood and waited…

And waited…

And waited…

Finally, I saw Chicky drive up.  Rooster jumped out and hurried in.

And then I saw it…

My Rooster…

Oh

My

Gosh.

His hair…

Oh

My

Gosh.

This is a story in and of itself.

See, on Sunday, the youth group had its annual scavenger hunt.  It is the big kickoff to Youth Week, and the kids and parents look forward to it.

You might remember my post from last year.  It was the first time I had ever driven, and I had a blast!

Although I had lesson plans to write, I decided that I needed a respite from my work, so I gave myself the afternoon off.

The way the scavenger hunt worked was that we had several items we had to find (and take) back to the church.  Each item was worth a certain number of points.

Then, there was another list of things each group had to do.  The driver (an adult) was the photographer who would snap pictures of the entire group doing the listed activities.  The pictures served as proof that we really did what we said we did.

Some of the items on the list included:

  • Proposing to a random person
  • Serenading a male/female couple in a public place
  • Helping an elderly person cross the street
  • Tossing pizza dough in a pizza parlor
  • Singing to a child in front of Toys R Us
  • Braiding someone’s hair
  • Applying a peanut butter facial
  • Walking through a drive-thru and pretending to place an order

There were a lot of other things on the list, but perhaps one of the most unusual (and most difficult) was to find someone sporting a real Mohawk.  Extra points would be given if the person’s hairdo was dyed.

Uh huh.

You see where I am going, eh?

All of the groups had to meet back at the church by 5:30.

As my group walked in, I saw my Rooster.

Sporting a Mohawk.

With pink, green, and blue sparkly paint to boot.

Oh

My

Gosh.

You might wonder what my first words were.

You would be surprised.

I asked him to let my group take a picture with him.

I like to win.

Remember the chicken biscuit party?

AuburnChick MUST win.

To the point where I hollered, “Don’t let them in,” as my new associate pastor entered Toys R Us with his group.

I’m ruthless.

However, Rooster had other ideas, and they did not include helping his Mama.

He’s ruthless too.

He likes to win.

He gets it honestly.

Well, me being ruthless and all did what all people desperate to win do in situations like this.

I offered him money.

I saw him smile.

How much, he wondered.

Ten stinkin’ bucks.

Deal.

My group got its picture.

We didn’t win though.

We couldn’t find kumquats.

Apparently they aren’t in season, and I didn’t know what they looked like, so I missed the kumquat tree that I passed on one of the roads.

Losing stinks.

But, back to the original point of my story…

The eye doctor.

Rooster walking in.

In that moment, the last day and a half flashed before my eyes.

Rooster came home from church, intending to cut his hair.  I had been hounding him for weeks, so he knew I wouldn’t mind the Mohawk since it meant he’d be halfway done with the hair cut.

However, Rooster had been invited to sleep over at a friend’s house.

I had agreed.

I had forgotten about the hair.

This teaching/working thing has totally taken over my life, because although I had remembered about his appointment, I had forgotten that we never cut the rest of his hair.

So, when he walked in, he looked like Billy Ray Cyrus’s son.

Yeah.

There I am in my teacher dress and new shoes, looking all professional, and there is Rooster…sporting a Mohawk.

In the middle of a very busy doctor’s office…the kind where they have something like 20 or 30 eye doctors…who do all of that specialized surgery along with regular checkups.

Uh huh.

I wanted to crawl under the carpet.

I could only imagine what others might be thinking.

Now, this is not to disparage those who wear Mohawks, because there could be some very fine fellows who make well-thought-out decisions to wear their hair this way.

However, my experience has been that when I see kids wearing their hair like this, well, I do a double-take, and it’s not the kind where I go, “Hmmm…their mamas must be so proud.”

Let’s leave it at that.

The only good thing about Rooster’s Mohawk was that he had managed to wash out most of the paint.

Thank the Lord (again, He was merciful).  Rooster wasn’t sparkling like a girl.

Yeah.

As a nurse escorted us back to an examination room, I made it a point to have a loud conversation with Rooster…

“The SCAVENGER HUNT was fun, wasn’t it?  You were so kind to do this for the SCAVENGER HUNT, weren’t you?”

Yeah, you know those conversations that we have for other people’s benefit.

The nurse came in, ignored the hair, and did her little “Which one is better…1 or 2” quiz.  It was all I could do not to giggle.

When she left, Rooster and I busted out laughing.

Oy.

Rooster decided to get glasses instead of contacts.  He has had one bad eye ever since middle school…the result of a collision with another student in PE.  I finally got him seen about it last year (I am such a good mom, eh?), and he had tried wearing a contact (since it’s only the one eye) but hated it.

Let’s just say that I was a little more than relieved when he told me he wanted to look for frames another day.

He had already outgrown the Mohawk.  It had served its purpose and put $30 in his pocket.

Thank goodness.

When we got home, he cut off the rest of his hair.

My clean-cut boy was back.

Praise the Lord.

And so, another day ended…just one more in the saga that continues to be my crazy life.

Aubie Feels Left Out

As you know, three furry babies reside in Chez AuburnChick.

I posted pictures of Molly and Pele in yesterday’s post.

Well, Aubie was none too happy because she did not get any face time on the blog.

She was, in fact, downright sad…

Yeah, I know.  I felt bad…just the response she was looking for.

As I snapped photos, I quickly realized that using a flash is NOT the way to go sometimes…

She’s really a sweet girl, despite the demon-possessed eyes in the above picture.

With Chicky loving on her, and me promising to post the pictures on the blog, Aubie quickly forgave me and seemed her normal, happy self…

Lesson learned.  Never post pictures unless you have included everyone.  Dogs have feelings too!

Oh To Be a Dog

Oh, the life of a dog.

You sleep…where you want if you’re cute enough…


You wake up when you want…

You go potty and people clean up after you (no pictures of this, mercifully).

You eat, and then you potty again.

Feeling really good at this point, you play…

You nap in the middle of the morning…

Then you wake up again…potty…and generally look cute…

Oh…the life of a dog…it’s not too shabby at all!