Puppy Park

Yesterday the pups and I went to the puppy park.

They love it. The pretend they're on safari, hunting wild beasts.

They run around, trying to strike fear into the hearts of the birds who stand just on the other side of the fence- tantalizingly close.

They think they're tough guys, but really, they're just little meatballs.

Little meatballs who love each other.

Little Chop Chop

Last week I was in a weird place- not totally sure why but I have my suspicions.

Anyway, I was upset. I told Josh, "I'm sad."

By the end of that day, we had a new puppy.

(He's an excellent husband, by the way.)

Before this sounds more ridiculous than it actually is, we've been talking about it for a little bit so it wasn't just some spur of the moment thing. It was just fuel to the fire that I was upset and he wanted to make me feel better, so it clinched the decision.

We went down to the shelter and Josh picked out our little Chopper. He's a beagle/basset hound mix, which is called a bagel. So. Cute.

I'm not sure why, but Chopper likes to walk under/lay where Quincy's missing leg should be. He's like a strange little puzzle piece of love.

Rescues are the cutest. 

Let's Talk About Bitching.

I'll be your guide through this 7th circle of Hell.

I bitch a lot. It's true, I won't deny it. I don't do it purposely, but my way of coping with anything that has my feathers in a ruffle is to run, find someone who is preferably trapped alone with me (kitchen, garage, stall in a public restroom) and pour my melodramatic heart out. Once it's officially out there and, depending on its magnitude (or how many pitchers of wine I've thrown back) I had a pathetic cry, I'm good to go. It's cathartic for me.

For those who have known me for years and have been through this nonsense, typically it goes something like this:

Me: Bitch bitch, the WORLD is ENDING! Bitch bitch bitch, are you even listening? Do you EVEN CARE ABOUT WHAT I'M TELLING YOU?!?

Them: Well what about this [insert logical explanation/choice]? That won't work? How about this one? You'll get through this!

Me: WHAT?!? Bitch bitch psychotic babbling (dramatic hand motions)

Them: Ooookay (getting frustrated) I'm sure everything will be fine.

Me: No! It won't be fine! I'm so overwhelmed I just...my heart, the stress...(clutches chest and gasps for air).

[Dies.]

End scene.


My husband is still getting used to these antics. Every time I start spinning into a a  meltdown, I can tell he starts panicking. Unfortunately, I'm so warped with my own sense of urgency I can't throw him a frickin' bone and the poor guy has to try and fight, tooth and nail, to escape the black hole in Hades in which he finds himself.

However, today, that man found the Emergency Escape Route I Never Knew I Had.

Me: Bitch bitch, TOTALLY FREAKING OUT, bitching.

Him: Maybe logic? Listening? Over the top compliments?

Me: NOO! ROOOOAbitchAAARRRR!!

Him: Hey, honey? I just sent you a link. Click on it for a second.

Me: Grrr...fine....

[Playing Puppy Video aka My Personal Heaven and Birthday Wish X 1000]

Him: Honey?

Me: Eeeeee! I love them! Look at all the little fur with their little baby feet...and

Him: (wipes forehead, sends up a quick thank-you to Jesus)

Truly, my husband is a miracle sent down to save all of you from the Heinous Bitch I Could Have Been (and Sometimes Am When Talking to Verizon's Customer Service).