Hadley's First Hike

Last Sunday morning, we took Hadley out to Bear Creak in Morrison, CO for her first hike. It is pretty short and fairly easy smooth terrain for little toddler feet. Here she is really excited about the water bottle.


This picture screams, "running water makes me really have to pee".


Once we got away from all the bikers, Hadley insisted on walking the ENTIRE way. We took our time, watching the river, sniffing flowers, and picking up rolly polly bugs. I LOVE that she is not afraid of critters. Yet.


Finally in the end, she was all about hydrating. Though we carried her most of the way back it was good exercise. Even the dogs had a good time.

Update on Gibson

Sometimes I forget the power of the internet, until I twit about something spectacular like ass cancer in canines, and then my phone and email ring off the hook. As you know, we here at the Beehive love all things tooshie and poop and we don't discriminate against human or canine. So here is the story and the update.


THE STORY
A few weeks ago, Gibson started licking his butt, excessively. "All dogs lick their butts", you say. But when I mean excessive, I mean obsessive. Like I had filled his crack with treats.

The next morning, when he was outside, I noticed he was gnawing on it. I looked on the back patio and saw little spots of blood. Poor dude. I went into Mommy mode, lifting his tail to check it out. I found a big blocked bloody anal gland. Gross! I can pull poop out of my own daughter's constipated butt, but something about the dog totally grosses me out. So I cleaned him up, fashioned him a cone out of a manilla file and packing tape, and called the vet.

Later that afternoon we all jumped in the car to head to our appointment. Gibson, as if knowing where we were going, had a panic attack and decided to jump in Hadley's lap. Hadley, whose car seat is in the middle seat, rear facing, was trying to take a nap at the time. There I was in five lanes of traffic on the highway, and looking in my rear view mirror, all I could see was his cone. *giggle* If you know dachshunds, you know that extensive and loud yelling have no effect on them. In fact, it makes them more headstrong. When I finally got off the highway to a red stop light, we had a stare down, then a "Don't make me undo my seat belt and come into the back seat" moment, followed by maneuvering him into the front seat. Stroking his ears and whispering calming sweet nothings still did not calm him down.

All of that drama, and as it turns out he had a blocked anal gland that we treated with antibiotics, and twice a day warm compresses. You know I LOVE this dog.

But there's more...
During his follow up, the gland had not completely healed, and when the vet did a biopsy, there were some abnormal cells suggesting cancer. Gibson got lots of extra treats and cuddles last week as we continued to nurse him.

Finally today...
We headed back to the vet for one last check-up. This time, Gibson started off in the front seat with me. Upon pulling into the vet parking lot however, Gibson knew exactly where he was and proceeded to freak out with ear piercing barks. Trying to unload him and Hadley from the car became a comedy of cursing and entanglement in his leash. Suddenly I heard my name called and a very pregnant Dr. Amy asked me if I needed help. I can only hope she didn't hear my exchange with Gibson in which I threatened to kill him if the cancer wasn't going to. It was not a proud moment for me.

Things got much better from there as it appears that Gibson's tooshie is safe for now. He does NOT have Anal Gland Carcinoma, just a little scar tissue. Phew.

Puppy Bowl

Ooh, what's on tv?


Dogs! Mom, there are dogs!


She was so excited that she needed to get down to get closer to the Puppy Bowl. Though I have to say, I was a bit disappointed that they didn't have any dachshunds this year. Who do they think they are? Don't they know the wiener is a total draw for people?

Weiner Dog Races

Last Sunday we got up bright and early to go to the 1st Annual Long Dog Races as part of Oktoberfest this year. We had been practicing with Tica in the backyard every night. We knew she would be our best bet as Gibson would run inside and hide under the bed during our practices.

Tica showed up in her wedding dress along with every dachshund in the city. Three hours later, we entered our heat of 5-10 year old dogs. Let's just say it was a bit of a comedy routine as H. woke up in the Bjorn and started screaming right as we entered the race area. Gibson was strapped in on the side and Tica didn't immediately take off because she couldn't hear David over the crowd. She managed to nab 2nd in her heat, though we didn't stay to find out the final results. Since we had 2 dogs and a baby with us, we didn't get video of her racing, so instead please enjoy these dogs.

Sick Doggy

Saturday evening, I fed the dogs and Gibson, the canine garbage disposal sniffed his food and walked away. He followed me as I walked outside to ask David, "See anything odd here? Gibson is here and his bowl of food is inside." This from the dog who will drool gobs before being given the ok to eat, beg me for a bite when I'm eating an apple, paw my leg if it is one minute past his dinner time, eat dead birds he found on the lawn, and rummage through the compost, all before deciding he really just wants to eat his own feces. Yes, we knew immediately that little G was sick.

Wouldn't you know it, just when Hadley starts sleeping through the night, Gibson decides to keep us up. So on Sunday morning when he still wouldn't touch food, we packed up the family and headed to the emergency pet ER. We are no stranger to this place as we had to take Tica there in a snow storm several years ago when she threw out her back. They gave Gibson a blood test, noticed dehydration, gave him a painkiller, filled him with fluid and hoped that whatever he had would pass. For the rest of the day he was so sad and pathetic that I was afraid we were going to have to go back to the ER. He slept in bed with us that night.


On Monday and Tuesday he spent the day at Urban Vet Care getting more IV fluids. They love him there because he is the poster child for their ads that DG designed so everyone knows him. They really couldn't figure out what was wrong, but on his discharge papers it said he was flatulent. Tell me something I DON'T KNOW. He was sent home with his IV still in, hence the cone he had to wear above. Tee hee. By Tuesday he was back to eating hard food and whatever was wrong with him had passed. Thank goodness. He is back to being the barky little boy he's always been.

Doggie Day Care

While my BFF Holly is out of town on vacation, we are babysitting her australian cattle shepherd/blue healer mix Ali. For some reason, Ali and Gibson love eachother. LOVE. Well Gibson loves to try and hump her and Ali loves to smell his wiener and try to get him to play. Tica and Ali do alright, but we've learned they can't chase the ball together because eager Tica gets sacked like a high school quarterback.

Here is an example of how high Ali can jump while trying to catch a frisbee. This shot would be better if she actually had the frisbee in her mouth. She must have been having an off day.

Ali is a great dog and has taken to sitting at my feet under my desk while I work, until I kick her out because her rancid breath is about to make me vomit a little in my mouth.

Parenting Dogs and Babies

I so badly wanted to name this post "Girls Who Pee their Pants", but felt it perhaps violated the integrity of these baby pics. I don't care if I go down in flames, but I didn't want to drag Hadley under the bus with me. She's got a reputation to uphold after all.

DG caught some pics of us playing this week-end. We sang the ABCs.


We practiced saying MA MA MAMAMAMAMAMA.


We had eskimo kisses.


Then I threatened to throw her down on a plate and eat her up because she's so gosh darn cute I can't take it.


As I was posting, I was reminded of a picture of Tica and me from 2006. Apparently I was practicing for parenthood.


Yes Gibson, I love you too.

CONTEST: What the $@*% is this?

And the weiner is...ah hem, I mean the winner is paintrly1! You are correct in saying that it is a picture of the inside of Gibson's ear. In case you forgot what the red haired little guy in the house looks like because I've inundated the blog with baby photos, here he is for reference.

I'm so excited about these comments for a few reasons: 1) 8 comments and only 3 from my family, woo hoo! 2) Marc Acito commenting on my blog is like being touched by celebrity! You may recall I've mentioned him before in the earliest of blog posts. 3) Thanks to the comment about alien vulva, I am reminded of another great blog post I've been wanting to do: what people google to find my blog...coming soon.

Thanks for playing along.


The first person who can tell me what this is a picture of will receive a $10 Starbucks card mailed to their house. The comments are open.

RULES:
One entry per person.
Entries must come through comments on the blog only.
My family ie. the guy that took the picture, his wife, and the man who sleeps in my bed at night are not eligible.
The winning answer will be the closest to what this actually is.

I will reveal the winner this evening.

Things Grandparents Do

Hadley loves it when Nana reads her stories. She stares intently at all of the pictures.


Nana and Hadley have great conversations.


But when Nana puts this bow on Hadley that she got her for Christmas, Hadley is unsure of how 1983 she looks. The bow was promptly removed when DG came home. "It's burning my eyes, my eyes." It burning MY minds eye.


Here is a much better use of the bow. Now Gibson and Tica look like Chippendales Dancers.


Lap dance anyone?

A Dog is a Girl's Best Friend

Leg room was getting cramped.


So we needed to upgrade. A girl needs to stretch out.

This photo needs a name. I was thinking the Birth of Wiener, a play on the Birth of Venus by Botticelli. Ideas?

Now the dogs can babysit all the time.

Babies and Dogs go together like salt and pepper

Lest you think that we've taken the dogs out to a farm so that they can live and run free barking until the end of their days, here is a picture to let you know that they are just fine and dandy. Though it has been a long road to haul. During week 1, I was convinced that Tica thought Hadley was a squeaker toy that she couldn't wait to get her hands on. Now Tica just wants to get her hands on dirty diapers to shred. *gross* I'm sure we will have plenty of grody diaper chew toy stories on another day.

Gibson doesn't want much to do with Hadley, except lick her. And we all know that as cute as he is, we do not accept kisses from Mr. Gibson. No way, no how.

Preparing Fido

Our friends Ed and Janet, who recently had twin girls, brought over a cd for us to use to prepare the dogs for the onset of a baby. It's tagline is "A Comprehensive Collection of Baby Sounds to Help You Lovingly Prepare Your Pet for the Arrival of Your New Baby!"

This cd of 11 top ten hits contains such gems as:
1) Crying Baby 4:57
2) Breathing, Grunting and Squeaking Baby 5:44
3) Keeping You up Baby 13:23
4) Screaming Baby 1:00

DG burned it to Itunes yesterday and we listened to about as much of it as we could take with the dogs. This consisted of about 3 1/2 minutes of a babbling baby. I'm thinking the next time they bark at the mailman, I will just lock them in a sound proof room and force feed them all 13 minutes of Keeping You Up Baby and if they pee on the floor, they get Screaming Baby on repeat. Parenting skills at work.

A Boy and His Mom

He knows.

The Drooler

Gibson has a new charming trait. Since we have moved into our new home, we have been trying to act more like 'leader of the pack' with the dogs. You know, let them know who rules the roost. One behavior we changed is that we do not feed them as soon as we wake up in the morning. The end result being that they no longer wake us up at 5am to feed them.

Also, when we feed them, we make them sit and wait outside the kitchen for 1-5 minutes after their food bowls have been put on the floor. Tica just sits eagerly wagging her tail until she is given the ok. Gibson on the other hand stares with such concentration at his food bowl that he begins to drool all over the floor. DG finally got it on video the other day and posted to his blog. It makes me laugh to tears. Try to ignore me prattling on in the back ground about dinner.

Gratuitous Dog Shots

It all began quite cozy and cuddly.


And slowly morphed into this. I love the leg hanging out of the bed.

Best in Show

We have had Tica for 1-1/2 years now, but never returned her original crate to the owner. After having now moved it, we finally contacted the daschund breeder Lisa to return it to her. As it turns out, she was going to be at a dog show in Colorado Springs this week-end so we made the trip down.

Unfortunately we did not time our trip very well, and missed the entire dachshund showing *sniff*, but lo and behold who walked in the door the same time as us? It was our old neighbor Amy who was there with her 7 month old Russian Wolf Hound Roger. She was showing him for the first time.



DG took a bunch of picks of Roger and he won several ribbons in his category and got his first points. Congratulations Roger! The dog show was fun because we got to see so many different breeds of dogs from Newfoundlands and Saint Bernards, to Doberman Pinchers and Poodles. They were all gorgeous show quality. It was fascinating to me to see 10 dogs of one breed in one place. Maybe DG will post some more pics.

Gratuitous Dog Shot

He's one special dog.

Waiting for Dad Part II

Gibson and Tica are usually not allowed on this chair as they would stare out the window all day waiting for a leaf to fall so they could bark at it. Around 5pm however, I usually let them, as I like to think they are waiting for DG to get home.

Wiener Paraphernalia

This isn't even half of it. When you love something so much, it is easy for your friends and family to catch on and get you gifts. Can you ever have too much wiener paraphernalia I ask? This is unlike the one time I must have said "I like cows" when referring to drinking a glass of milk and later became inundated with all things bovine including a white toothpick holder with black spots.

This leads me to other things wiener, such as these soaps. Perhaps my favorite part is the comment by one of the buyers "There are quite a lot of level-headed people around the country who go totally crazy for this little breed of waddling wiener dogs." This sums up my feeling for Gibson and Tica.

Sweet Nothings

I love doing fun original things for Valentine's Day. I had been planning these chocolate sugar cookies for awhile after I got a weiner dog cookie cutter for Christmas and some snowflake cookie cutters a few weeks ago. I started them at 7am the minute DG left the house. It was hard not to eat all of them during the day.

The night before we made cupcakes for his office too. Those sprinkles are actually pink pigs from Intercourse, Pennsylvania.

My Other Dog Eats Poop Too

*Gasp*. It appears that little Miss Tica has picked up a bad habit from her brother. Rassity Frassity. I JUST caught her brown handed today. (Not to be confused with my brown bread thumb.) Our princess has fallen off her pedastal. So sad, so sad.

My mother said I ruined her breakfast with my post from yesterday. That as well is sad, but not as sad as owning two dogs that eat poop.

My Dog Eats Poop

I've often alluded to the fact that Mr. Gibson eats his own poop. It's not a joke. Seriously. It's actually a disease that some dogs have called Coprophagia. He doesn't eat anyone else's poop. No, he's picky and he just wants his own. We've tried meat tenderizer on his food, medicinal powder, and pills. All are supposed to have the effect of making his poop taste vial to him. But what is a more vial than the taste of poop I ask?

Next we tried to clean up after him each time. But this just isn't realistic, especially in the winter when it is -1 degrees out, like it is today. This weather has caused me to coin the phrase poopsicle. Sometimes he doesn't give you a chance to clean it up. He likes it hot out the oven. Many a day, DG and I have run, screaming as if in slow motion across the yard as we see what is about to occur. There is no amount of yelling or scolding that will make him stop. When he was a few months old he swallowed a fish hook in the alley and had to have it surgically removed from his tummy. This past summer, I caught him red handed eating a dead bird. Even the lure of other, better treats would not make him cough up that bird. I glared at him in a stare down, in vain, as he had 2 little bird legs sticking out of his mouth. He's a stubborn one that Mr. Gibson.

But look at him, how could you love him any less? He's my pride and joy. Even as he cuddles up next to me and burbs up the most foulest of odors fully disgusting anyone in a 20 foot radius, he's so darn cute.

So what is the moral of this story? No matter how handsome he looks, no kisses from Mr. Gibson.

Waiting for Dad

5pm Friday and from my desk in the office, I turned around, only to see this view of the dogs staring out the front window waiting for their dad to come home.

Right on schedule, Gibson started barking the minute he caught sight of DG on the sidewalk. It's ok to greet Dad with a bark, but I try to explain to him that during the day, he is only to bark when the mailman arrives. He is constantly crying wolf however when he sees maybe a leaf blowing across the lawn, or a squirrel climbing the tree, or a snowflake fall or absolutely nothing.

One Hot Dog

Mr. Gibson is super sexxxy in his new black Coach collar and matching leash. Yes, you read correctly. My dog accessorizes in COACH. I think this could be a new bumper sticker.

I was in Chicago this week for meetings with my new company. I couldn't be more pleased to work with such a great bunch of people. One of the perks was a great company dinner on the 9th floor of the university club. After dinner we were all given some really thoughtful gifts. The owners, knowing how much I love my dogs, got the coach collar for me, in fits of giggles. It really is priceless. It almost makes him look as if he doesn't love to run outside and eat his own poop.

Keep Your Wiener Cleaner

The headline really speaks for itself.

The runners up were:
Rub a dub dub, two wieners in a tub
Wet Your Wiener
Out Foxen the Doxens

Back to Life, Back to Reality

I have a distressed dog at home who has never been left alone and who thinks her brother has been taken on a walk without her and I have a tembling little boy at the Vet (da duh duh!!!), who starting howling the minute we pulled into parking lot, because he knew exactly where he was. He also refused to believe I was leaving without him this morning and sat ears back, by the door. Oh the poor piteous looks, they are burned into my minds eye. Gibson is getting an ultrasound on his heart today for a murmur they found recently. Is it me, or are dogs more high maintenance today than say they were in the 70's?

Gratuitous Dog Shot

Wiener Extravaganza: The beginning of the end

The ladies met at 4 p.m. at the new Hyatt in downtown Denver where we were spending the night. The hotel is beautifully new, trendy, and quite chic. Knowing my appetite and penchant for eating early, Holly and Lora wasted no time in getting the evening started with dinner reservations at 5:15 at my favorite restaurant, Jax Fish house. All the ladies drank their strawberry infused vodka lemonades and ate a great dinner. Holly and I downed almost an entire plate of oysters.


Meaux, Holly, Me (Notice the straws that the ladies were drinking out of, thanks to Jinnie.)


The bride's first drink went down a bit too lickety split.

I call it my Lunch Lady

I received this in my inbox today from my Dad and thought it worthy of a Thursday funny. Though that dangly flab under my arm is fondly referred to as My Lunch Lady.

Sleeping Bag Hog

Saturday evening, after getting home at 10:00pm from wine club (it was Malbec night) I decided I wanted to sleep out under the stars in the backyard. It had reached 104 degrees that day and it felt really nice out there. Ok, maybe I was a little tipsy. *burp*


So I put out a tarp, got out the sleeping bags and pillows and DG and I fell asleep staring at the night sky. Going to bed, I was totally comfortable and ready to sac out. About every 5 minutes into our rest, the dogs would bark each time they heard a noise in the alley. Then I sat up talking in my sleep, repeating over and over again to DG, "Where is David? Where is he? Where is David?" He usually doesn't respond to me in my sleep which is a pretty good rule, but this night he responded, "He's right here" in a dead pan tone. I woke up around 2:00 am to see the moon had risen and was acting as a night light. Around 3:00 I heard DG say the words "I Xeroxed my ass" which he had been saying all the previous day in reference to a SNL skit where Jimmy Falon was using a David Grey song to talk about his work Christmas party. Then finally at 5:30 we were woken up by the birds chirping and eating out of the feeders. I looked above us at an electric line, to see one bird in particular chatting away directly above us. Needless to say, DGs sleeping bag took a hit, but not our faces.



Mister Gibson totally hogged my sleeping bag all night, but since it's in a mummy shape he was hard pressed to find room in there by my feet. But he sure is a good heater. It was great fun, but the sleepover ended when I got up at 6:30 and went to pick up Erica to run the stairs at Red Rocks. Weeee. ::oy my aching calves::