OCD OCD OCD

On Saturday I bundled up my little tiny box of Ghengis and his collar and his stinky dinosaurs and David and Chester and I headed over to Dena and Levi’s for the afternoon.
Levi is making the box that will hold Ghengis’ ashes. To be honest, he is the only person I trust to do the job. I’ve seen his work and not only does he have mad carpentry skills, but our sense of taste and aesthetic is very similar. I also know that he is one of the few people who can truly comperehend what this means to me. Dena and Levi lost their beloved Bela in December. It’s been a hard year for pet owners. Many tears were shed that afternoon.
Right foot. Left foot. The earth keeps turning and you find you are still walking. The main point of the visit was to get Chester over to play with Milo. Chester, being not very well socialized before I got him, needs to work on his intercanine skills a bit. He’s great with people, he loves people, he just doesn’t care for other dogs.
That afternoon I got to see the actual extent of my dog’s OCD problems. There was treasure EVERYWHERE!! Everywhere! The entire living room was covered in toys that no one was bothering to hid. He was beside himself, what the hell was going on in this place that toys were just laying out here and there, squeaky pork chops, rawhides, fuzzy hedgehogs!
His first order of business was to collect everything and hide it…but where. He ran here and there with Milo perplexedly following him. He tried to hide the rawhides but every time he turned around, there was Milo watching him, seeing exactly where he put it.
Time for a different plan. This plan had him collecting every toy and treat he could find and depositing them under my chair. This is good. Everything is collected and in one place and certainly the fatty that feeds him and protects him is going to extend her umbrella of protection to the treasures he just found.
Except the fatty don’t care so much and would probably prefer that Chester not be so impolite when he is a doggy guest at another doggy’s house.
He also got to play a bit with teeny tiny Doti, the new puppy. Doti is a lovely, roundy, 6 week old American Bulldog. She’s completely deaf and that means that she can sleep through any chester related catastrophe. Good for her.
Chester then got to spend the evening at Petsmart where he got treats and stuffed toys and rope toys and whatnot. Wembley the Stuffed Whale lasted all of 20 hours! I need to find a cheaper source of stuffed toys for him.

More proof of my insanity

This morning in my regular running late flurrious rush I grabbed my Hello Kitty lunch box out of the fridge and it was covered in cold, wet goo. Ah fuck, something in my lunch must have leaked. It wasn’t the chili because that is reddish brown, not clear, it wasn’t the clementine, those don’t really leak so much and it wasn’t the tortilla chips because…well that’s just crazy.
I figured there must have been a breach in my yogurt seal and it was leaking sweetened yogurt whey goo all over the fridge.
Nope. Dry.
So, obviously, the Alien decided to hide in my fridge and drip goo everywhere. Do not touch the goo.
I emptied my lunch box, tossed the perishables into the fridge and left.
At work I realized that I put my lunch back in the fridge. That was stupid. Now I can’t eat my lunch because it is 5.3 miles away. The goo never actually touched the food, just the lunch box. I am retarded. Retarded and hungry.

All the ho’s drive Volvos

Let’s see, how do I write this and not come across as one of those gooey in love types that ends up alienating her single friends….
hmmmm
Valentines day was straight up lovely and traditional with cards and glitter and cut out hearts and boxes of truffles and delicious dinner out and greek food and wine and snuggling.
And gooey and happy and all that

Treasure Island

Come to my house and sit still. Let the quiet of the morning wash over you. Completely relax.
Once you are relaxed start to look around. Don’t look with any intensity, just glance from once spot to another. Eventually, like those magic eye posters, they will come into focus. Little bits of orangish brown poking out here and there. You’ll realize their everywhere.
They are treasure. Little doggie treasure. Chester maniacally hides about 50% of his dog biscuits and all of the dog biscuits that Maddie doesn’t eat. Sometimes you’ll look over and see him snuffling in a corner, his demeanor frantic. His head will pop up and he’ll have a dog biscuit dangling out. He’s ‘dug’ one up and is trying to find a new place for it. Sometimes, late in the evening, he’ll dig one up and settle in to eat it.
He’s an industrious little guy. My job now is to find a way to focus this industriousness so he feels like he is working and does not become completely neurotic about it. Anyone know how to make a rat terrier feel like he is working (besides seeding the house with live rats for him to catch)?
PS this week the dogs are officially known as Duke Chester III of Nokomia and The Right and Good Princess Maddie of the Boombalatties.

PHOTO

I finally got some photos posted!
a new ephemeral photo
a few new photos of the dogs
AND the chenille scarf and the much anticipated robot scarf.
Take off your pants, click the icon on the right side of the page and revel in the new photo glory!
Note to Jason, the robot end of your scarf is complete, if you want it to say something other than beep! please let me know ASAP. Anyone else want a robot scarf? It’ll cost you. email me for details.