Tag: #Dogs

  • Another Monday, Dog Grooming Edition

    Yet another Monday, and I am looking at a blank computer screen. At least I was until I just forced myself to start typing something. Because this isn’t writing, it’s typing.

    What I am really doing at this hour is waiting for the dog groomer to call so I can go get our dog. (I have mentioned before that I am not a huge fan of the word “grooming” when it comes to dog hair maintenance, but I may need to just accept that this is the term that everyone has decided to use.) They said the dog would be ready, at most, in three hours, and now that we are at the three-and-a-half-hour mark, I have started to wonder at what state is the progress in? No matter what, I will call them at the four-hour mark, as I have to pick up a kid from school, and I have some other things that I need to accomplish today as well.

    As such, I am here on the couch in a holding pattern on this rather nice day. No rain for this Monday, as compared to the last few. No, this is an actual Spring day, windows open due to the sixty degrees outside. It is the type of weather that makes me optimistic, and forgiving.

    And I think about the things that are coming for me. That taxes are due tomorrow, and we need to pay down some more of our debt. There is a college fund that should receive some additional dollars, and most importantly, I try to stay positive about owning a home one day. A home out of the City, in the country, but not too far away so I can live a lifestyle that is aggressively just beyond the touch of my fingertips.

    Then my wife texts me to say that she hasn’t heard from the groomers, and that I need to call and go get the dog.

    Such is this Monday.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Haircuts, Dog Haircut, and Hats

    (An’ I don’t really care if you think I’m strange…)

    As a balding man, haircuts are a very funny thing. What hair I do have still grows and needs to be cut periodically. Yet, with a significant smaller amount of hair on my head, having to pay full price for a haircut does make me feel like I am being taking advantage of. Shouldn’t there be a bald man’s discount?

    My dog also has to get periodic haircuts, but that’s called grooming, but in the good way. She gets her trim every three months, and when we enter into the final weeks before her cut, she is a hairy mess. She’s a little Chewbacca, if I were to describe accurately.

    I am a fan of hats, and that was before I started balding. When I was doing costuming in my college theatre department, I would try to come up with any excuse to put a hat on a character. In my real life, I’m a baseball cap and beanie guy. But what I would love to be is a fedora guy. And not one of those short brimmed hipster fedoras; no, I’m talking a classic wide brim 1930’s or 40’s fedora. But I think for the look to work, you have to be in a suit. Fedoras are formal, while a ball cap denotes a casual or sporty aesthetic. So, I need to wear more suits is what I’m saying.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Talking to the Dog, Shopping for Quirk, and Wrapping Up

    (Jump back, what’s that sound?)

    I know that I am not the only person who does this, because I have seen other people in my neighborhood do it, especially at night. And that’s talking to your dog on a walk. Now, I’m not talking about telling your dog that they are a good boy, or asking them to hurry up, or to slow down. No, I mean having a conversation with the dog. At home, I talk to the dog all the time. Like, if I have an idea, and I need to talk through it, the dog will be the recipient of my line of thinking. But out for a walk? No, I don’t want to look like the crazy guy on the block. Until, the other day, when I did it. I had several things I needed to take care of the next day, and I thought when the dog was trying to poop, that would be a good time to ask her if my agenda was in good order. She seemed to agree, or at least she had to no where else to go.

    As we are approaching Christmas, the wife and I have started looking for gifts for our family members who have a very excellent sense of humor. Last year, the winner was the fat plush cat with balls, which, for some odd reason, is no longer available on Amazon. For us, the quirk gift needs to revolve around a cat or cats. They do seem to be the funniest. Something with cat butts, or an art piece of cats watching use the bathroom are our winning ideas so far. No matter what we select, we do have to hope that it lands well, hence the good sense of humor being a requirement, but we also have to imagine and wonder what the reaction will be.

    AND as we approach Christmas, that will also mean that I need to wrap up my year on the blog. I only have two weeks left of live or daily created blogs left, and then I will start scheduling the final two weeks of the year. Lot’s of Christmas jokes, but I will again do a “Best Of…” week as well. In the past few years, I have let the “Best Of…” be the posts that received the most views, so you, the readers, have decided. This year I am going to change it up and select what I think were the five best blogs I put out. Maybe this is a good idea, maybe no one cares. Maybe it’s good to change things up from time to time.

  • ODDS and ENDS: The Dog Groomer, Fart in French, and Ice Cream

    (We’re all excited, but we don’t know why…)

    I love my dog. I always thought of myself as a cat person, but once we got the dog… well, I’m still a cat guy, but I do want to have a dog from here on out. And loving my dog, means loving all of her, including the bad stuff that she does. Which is very little, I might add. What the dog does that drives us nuts, and we haven’t been able to get her to stop, is that the dog goes ape-shit anytime she sees another dog. Like growling, and barking, and trying to break free from the leash so she can go and kill that other dog. It can make taking her for a walk a very challenging endeavor. Anyway, so when we take the dog to the groomers, the dog does her normal stuff when she sees the other dogs getting groomed, she goes bananas. So, we leave her, and when we come back to the groomers, they tell us how great of a dog she was; so kind, nice, and friendly. And we’ll ask if our dog was this nice version, even when other dogs were around, and the groomers tells us yes; that our dog was even friendly to the other dogs. This has happened enough times over the past five years, that I have come down to one of two conclusions; the groomers are telling us lies because no one wants to hear that their dog is an asshole, or our dog puts on this tough act in front of other dogs only when we’re around.

    My mother was a very proper woman. You had to really make her mad to swear, and she did embarrass easy. Yet, she raised three boys, and there was a lot of farting. BUT, my mother never said the word fart. No, that would be most improper. As she was raised in a French-American home, she did bring one, and only one, French term into our lives; péter. (That’s French for fart.) For the first several years of my life, I thought everyone also used the word péter. When I got to school, I learned quickly that no one used this word. Yet, the tern stuck with me, and in honor of my French heritage, I have made sure that my daughter knows that péter means fart in French.

    And, I want ice cream for dinner.

  • My Dog

    People love animals, especially dogs. If you have spent all of three seconds on my blog, you’ve seen my picture with our dog. She’s a mix, small, smells bad, has bad teeth, hates every other dog on the planet, but is wonderful with people. We joke that our dog won the Doggie Lottery, as she got a family that totally lets her be herself, and is even rewarded for it. Our dog doesn’t do shit, other than shit, pee, eat, sleep, occasionally play, and sleeps some more. And she’s wonderful and we love her.

    I bet if you have a dog, no matter how odd or awful that dog is, you’re going to tell me that dog is wonderful, awesome, and you love them unconditionally. AS YOU SHOULD! Dogs are great, and we are so lucky to have them in our lives. And if you haven’t seen it:

    And I bet you know where this is going. But I’m not here to beat up on a Governor who thought a story about shooting a fourteen-month old dog was a good one, and needed it to be included in her book.

    No, this is more about how Cricket did one thing that no politician, or leader, could do in this country. Cricket united us. On both sides of the isle, we all came together to say that killing a dog, an adolescent dog, for the crime of being “untrainable,” is wrong. Our dogs share their lives with us, are there for us when we need them, they give so much love, and can help us in many different ways.

    Rest in Power, Cricket. In your very short life, you proved that there are still issue that we all can get behind.

    This is my dog, and if you met her, she would love you.