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::

Scaring the squirrels

Last weekend, when I sat in my pajamas on the back porch watching it rain all day, we were mezmerized by the birds eating and getting wet all morning. And then the squirrels, hearing there was a party, crashed it for the free food.

So the bouncers, looking very threatening in their oversized fleece tops and pink pj's had to step in. They escorted the squirrels out the back door. I believe something was said to the effect of "...and never come back!" ::aarf aarf::

One of the bouncers stayed behind to guard the food.

Then the birds came back to play.

Dog Days of Summer

I love DG for many reasons, one of which is that he designs me these beautiful new headers and just posts them for me, then sends me a quick IM saying something cryptic about going to look at the blog. So take a moment, breathe, and stare in awe at the beautiful new color scheme using the same brushes as our wedding invitations.

Here comes the wiener, all dressed in....

Friday afternoon, when my mom and I were running errands, we went into a cute shop called Macy Macy. It is a mix of handmade dog clothes and eclectic people stuff. The store was closing, but the owner who has a little Chihuahua was promoting a "Doggie Prom" as a benefit to a local Animal Hospital next week-end. I looked at my mom and asked her if she could whip up some outfits for the babies and I believe I got the eye roll.

Later, during the shower, when I was opening my gifts from her, I became quite verclempt when suddenly before me, was a pearled white knit outfit. Upon closer inspection, I find that it is a wedding dress for Tica, with a matching Tux for Mr. Gibson that she had made. I almost started sobbing uncontrollably in front of everyone.


Tica is not really interested in wearing her veil, but I am thinking that they will be the hit of the prom.

Classic Tica

We have had Tica for just over 6 months now, and have had a fun time getting to know her. The last couple of months, she has really flourished and her true personality has come out. She is so different from Gibson in the oddest ways. She loves to cuddle, yet she is so stiff that she is not cuddly. She is constantly banging her head into things and doesn't know her own strength. (It only took 14 head-butts before I learned my lesson. I swear I'm going to lose a tooth someday.) She is persistent. If there is a toy out of her reach she will push her way through to get it. Gibson will sit and whine until you get it for him. She has abundant amounts of energy. She loves to whirl in circles around the back yard goading Gibson to chase her. At top speed she will whiz past him so fast that the air tunnel she creates blows his ears up into the air. Then she'll come to a dead stop in front of him, stare at him, lick his face in a tease, and then charge off again, looking over her shoulder to see if he took the bait. It is quite fun to watch. She is obviously the stronger of the two, yet she plays docile to Gibson's top dog status. He will playfully paw her, lick her face, and chew on her to assert dominance, and she will roll on her back and let him. Her newest quirk is her love of the hose. She chases the stream of water, trying to grab it with her mouth, only to get sopping wet every time.

Classic Mr. Gibson

Dave has these photos in his Flickr account and I just had to post them. The first one is classic Gibson. He is one handsome dog. I mean he is one Hot Dog. Ha, had to add the pun. Did I mention that I think we are psychically connected?

So the reason I post this picture is that this look represents "whatever Mr. Gibson wants, Mr. Gibson gets", because he is so cute we can't help it. Unfortunately he's also a total PITA 80% of the time.

The second one was caught last year when DG took Gibson out for doggie day at the pool. Unfortunately, Gibson HATES the water. We learned that on a trip to Albuquerque, NM last year when staying with a family with 3 large dogs who jumped in the pool all day long. DG finally tossed Gibson in, and he hated it. His tiny little legs would doggie paddle to the edge, where he could never get himself pushed up to get out. This face pretty much tells it all.


Please, please dad, you know I HATE the water. *whimper* please don't make me go back, please. I'll be good for like the next 5 minutes, I promise. Just don't make me go back there. I never learned the doggie paddle.


Ok, seriously, now that we are over this water thing, I really deserve a treat or something. Like I haven't barked in over 60 seconds or anything.

Wiener Plush Toy ALERT

Regardless of it being their own species, a 2' long plush toy in the shape of a wiener dog = total carnage. I mean it is kind of incestuous, no bestial, wait what's the word I'm looking for? oooh, Cannibalistic. I just had to go shake the toy in their faces barking and teasing them and getting them all riled up right before bedtime. Gibson could care less, he's more into the small hedgehog or hippo toys, something he knows he can take.

At first we just thought Tica wanted to play when she wouldn't go to bed and cried and cried sniffing the air, trying to jump on our bed. (No small feat for a wiener trying to jump 3' in the air.) Then it dawned on us, Joy has cats, the plush toy smells like her cats, Tica thinks the Leopard skinned 2' long plush toy wiener is a cat. In her excitement that we had gotten a cat, she wouldn't settle down for over 3 hours...*yawn*. She kept me up until after midnight. *rassa frassa* Even though she saw me move the toy into a different room (she's not the sharpest knife in the drawer), her nose told her that we were snuggling in bed with our new cat friend with the feather collar. No amount of trying to dissuade her convinced her otherwise. We even had her in bed with us for awhile. Gibson was totally annoyed as well, though he didn't at all have my back in trying to explain to her in doggy language that she was totally acting insane.

Heinie Time

What's that on my leg...HEY!

Monday was a typical crazy, nothing goes right Monday. No big deal, brush the day off, here comes Tuesday. Tuesday is going to be good I tell myself as I am drying my hair. I am ready early, an unheard of event. Then I start looking for my keys, which I am so adamant about putting on the key hanger. Hmmm, no keys, well now I am going to be late for the bus. That's ok, there is a new woman at work, and she will be there with the door open, I won't need my keys. Run out the door to catch the bus and in my subconcious, I hear the next door neighbor yelling at his chihuahua Deliana, and I hear her yipping, but it's all in the back of my mind as I am at a fast trot going down the middle of the street laden down with a huge gym bag and 20lb purse. Next thing I know, there is a tugging on my pant leg and I look down to see a silver Yo Quero Taco Bell dog attached to my leg. I giggled over the thought of it and say heeeey, as in 'hey you silly dog'. The owner finally made it down to get her and I look down at my leg to see that she has torn my stocking, and I can feel that she has bit me, but I tell him no problem, because I've got a bus to catch. Get down to the bus pull up my pantleg and find that for a small dog, she's drawn blood and taken a bit of a chunk. Well the good news is that I caught the bus, the bad news is that when I got to work, as luck would have it, I was locked out of the office.

I should have prefaced todays story with my phobia about dogs that are not chained in their yard. This goes back to living in Whitefield, NH when one day at the young age of 5, I was walking home and the nasty kids next door, sicced their mutt on me. They scared me, I ran, the dog jumped on me, and I fell and skinned both knees and ran home crying. Living in Indiana, I used to run in the middle of corn country, so everything was in mile grids, no sidewalks. All of a sudden one day a dog came at me out of no where. Needless to say I tripped and fell in a ditch, all the while holding my diginity by a string as I screamed at the dog to GO AWAY.

Now, according to Seni (11 yr old neighbor), they want to buy me new hose and pants which is completely unnecessary (and ridiculous). I just want them to take Deliana to puppy school. Gibson and Tica have offered to go rough her up, but I think I need to just feed her treats every time I see her. Works with kids, should work with dogs too?

You mean to tell me that my grandchildren are dogs?!!?

Dear Grandma and Grandpa,

I just love my new red sweater. It is so HOT. I can wear it inside lounging on the couch or for walks outside, or to just go out and dig in the mulch pile. It's beautiful and it makes me feel like top dog. I love being warm. I can't believe you made it with your own hands, it will be special to me always. Now Gibson and I match. You are awesome.

xxoo woof woof
Tica