Ok I am going to forget that my dog got skunked, my boler's toilet is leaking, that it took 5 adult strength gravol to achieve Duke's silence in the truck for all of 20 minutes, or that "we" forgot the axe, trailer jacks, and water hose. I'm going to start over. I'm on vacation!!!
First off we have been tagged by Amanda at manymuddypaws.blogspot.com to tell our stories of how we came to have our dogs. Fun right? Except if you follow Sarah's blog digit-fetchit-herdit.blogspot.com then you've heard my stories. Ok maybe not exactly, but it's safe to say bizarro world strikes again.
THE DOG: Sadie
THE YEAR: 2005
I wanted a little dog that I could train while I was in transition from school to the real world. My husband said there was one, gasp, at the petstore. When I saw her, I thought she was a Jack Russell. I lived with a Jack Russell while going to school and it made me cringe to see her. But the nice petstore employee told me that she was a fox terrier, and would be much calmer then her terrier cousin the jack. Mmmmhmmm. She was the only one left, so we didn't have a choice and we went home with her.
THE DOG: Duke
THE YEAR: 2005
I wanted a lab all my life. I actually wanted a yellow one named Sailor. Dustin also wanted a lab for swimming, and hiking. He actually wanted a black lab named Duke, I guess we know who has more pull now. We decided to visit the Calgary Humane Society just to kill some spare time. There was a black lab named Duke, I didn't have a choice how could I say no?
THE DOG: Mira
THE YEAR: 2007
I absolutely did not want 3 dogs. We were fostering for a rescue in Calgary and we picked up a very strange, and shy looking mixed breed dog that I actually couldn't wait to have adopted out. Having 3 dogs was hard work! Then we went away on holidays and I missed my dogs of course, but I also missed my little freak as well. Now if you read Sarah's post on how she got Gyp you might think that I am making this up. But I kid you not the moment I quit saying she had to go was when she laid her head on Dustin's lap and looked up at him with those eyes and he said "so we are keeping her right?" and yes she is Daddy's girl hands down.
(insert creepy bizzaro music here)
*all photo's courtesy of paws on the run photography (photography.paws-on-the-run.ca)* awesome eh?
Its been a rough few days to say the least. Last night Mira had what can only be described as a doggy panic attack and ripped off her cast. It lasted all night, and as soon as I calmed her down and fell asleep, I woke again to the sounds of plaster cracking. Then I slept in after my alarm choose not to go off because it knows I'm in a rush to get Mira back to the vet and off to work after a sleepless night. In my morning panic I left the pantry door open and came home not only to food partially devoured and strewn around the house, but garbage as well because that is where I keep it locked up. And this is not your run of the mill garbage, no it had to be after my mom and I cleaned and tossed a bunch of old camping gear encrusted with dirt and mud. Cleaning old gooey and licked starburst off tile is not a joyful task. My dryer also decided it no longer wanted to perform it's only function - to dry clothes. Of course after a messy weekend, complete with dirty soaking wet towels. And the list goes on, but I digress.
I found some twisted humor this evening. I was given a fish for my birthday last December, one that lives in a small bowl, that has to be cleaned every week or the fish is no longer visable. Yesterday I couldn't find his food. I searched for it at supper and decided to just buy some more today. Then Mira had a melt down and I forgot. So again at supper I realized he had no food and I would have to go out and buy some. This came shortly after I strategically planned each day around Mira's constant watch. Even going as far as having a babysitter so I could buy groceries at some point. Angry, frustrated and clearly not thinking coherently I decided I would flush him down the toilet and peacefully "drown" him because I didn't want him to starve and I couldn't leave Mira to buy his food. As I watched him struggle against the swirling current I debated saving him only to reminisce over the weekly cleaning rituals, and I let him go. Not 20 minutes later as I stared helplessly out the kitchen window I saw his food on the ledge. I giggled psychotically as I realized that fish can't drown and wondered how in fact my poor fish would meet his maker.
But if I didn't laugh I'd cry and I'm all out of tears.