Monday, October 19, 2009

My Name Is Becky, And I Own A Little Dog

I was thinking today of Zack. It's been a year since he died. Still makes my heart squeeze in a not so good way, and makes my stomach squishy when I think about him.

Of course, when he died, I wanted another dog immediately. Not to replace him, but I needed that dog-ness around. It was an ache. But I got vetoed.

Until July 3rd.

Everyone, except me, wanted a little dog. An ankle-biting, quivering, yipping inbred dog. And I've never really been a fan of that breed. At all. But, I wanted a dog, so I started the search. We (the boy and girl and myself) did vast web searches for the perfect dog. And we looked at a lot of little inbred dogs.

But I came across this video of this little spazzy dog.

And. I. Fell. In. Love.


His name is Jet. And he was at a rescue in Poland, Indiana. Bring the jokes...buh-RING 'EM!!

We've actually deemed him a Polish Terrier just because we are tired of trying to explain what he is to all the other parents at obedience school. Husband has also determined him to be a Pubic Terrier as an homage to Jet's hair issue.

But...let's go back.

I drive the kids 2 1/2 hours away to Poland, dealt with customs and what-not, and picked the lil guy up. He was everything I never wanted in a little dog. I didn't want a little dog. But I wanted him. 300 bones for a rescue dog. Yeah, I know..wha???

9 pounds. Full grown at a year old.

It's like having a permanent newborn baby, except, you know..different.

We get home. The next 10 days and $200 in vet bills were spent dealing with Kennel Cough. We had no idea what kind of personality our PubicPolish Terrier had, as he slept. All the time. Jet was quite ill.

Day 10, the switch turned on. The BELL RANG! HE WAS HEALED!!!!

It was also gametime. We had a TERRIER!!

Some people call him "cute". I've heard "pitiful, but cute". And perhaps he looks a little rough. Husband just flat out calls Jet "ugly" TO HIS FACE!!! Everytime Husband does this I play "Beautiful" by Christina Aguielera just to build his esteem up from the "hater". But Jet has street cred. He did time in the pound, the humane society AND then the rescue. And he was only 1. Jet rocks. And he knows it. He OWNS it.
We're still working on manners.
Mostly..he likes to jump on your head eat chewies while sitting on you peeing pooping terrorizing the cat chewing things peeing pooping drinking out of toilet chewing the cat peeing pooping mopping the floor with the cat running from you chewing peeing pooping standing on tables peeing and pooping. But he's working on it.

His hair.
His hair issue And once I started, I kind of had a hard time stopping. Because he wears his clothing SO well. Lil guy gets cold, so he owns a few jackets, a t-shirt for mild days, a Snuggie (just to irritate Husband) and then there is the pumpkin costume. Other than that...
He cries when the kids go to school all Lassie like. He loves ALL kids. A lot. We had a humping phase which prompted an "explanation" as to what "humping" is and that it is NOT "funny/cute".
Anyways...I know you don't all give a shit about A Girl And Her Dog...but I do. I think Zack would have just log-rolled him around, but he'd dig him.
My name is Becky..and I own a little dog.

Monday, October 5, 2009


So, it's about 20 minutes after putting the boy and girl to bed. They are like litter mates, and still sleep together most nights. Get over it.

Girl comes out to find me and starts talking :

Girl: So, mommy? I was just about to fall asleep, and as usual, weird things pop into my head. Scary things, and now I can't fall asleep, but I don't want to tell you about it.

At this point, 5,267 items that qualify as "weird/scary" come to my mind.

Me: Well, why don't you try to tell me, I swear it will make you feel better to get it out of your head.

Girl: Well, I don't feel comfortable telling you.

(I'm thinking now, of like 4,963 more things, wondering if I should have the police nearby, you know, to take a report)

Me: I think you should try, honey.

We spend the next 5 minutes in negotiations..

Girl: Well, ok. I know this is wrong, and I shouldn't be doing it..but. Well, sometimes at night, when the Boy falls asleep, I play with his face.

Me: Play with his face?

Girl: Yeah, you know, I squish his cheeks up, or I open his eyes up real big. I just make faces. And I KNOW it's wrong mommy. But sometimes I just do it.

Please trust me when I tell you the images in my head at this point are beyond hysterical, but also troubling.

Girl: And so, I was starting to fall asleep, and these pictures came to my head, you know, like when cartoon characters eyes get all BIG and RED and there are like, red LINES in their eyes. And I started thinking of Boy's eyes getting like that, and now I'm all freaked out.


Me: Ok, honey. Ok. I think you should at this point, go back to bed and lie there, thinking things like "Boy's body is his body". "Boy's face is not something to play with when he's sleeping".

And then I threw in the motherly..."You know, you could really hurt him by doing that". Just for guilt's sake.

Girl: I know, Mommy...I know...(as she's shaking her head, looking down). I know it's wrong, and I'm sorry, Mommy.

Me: Good luck to you, Girl. Sweet dreams!!!

So. I held it together. I don't even think I realized how weird and funny and awful it was. The poor boy, just dead to the world, as his sister is contorting his face in the dark.

Goes to show you, one can't assume what "weird" qualifies to a 9 year old girl. Weird is not screwing around with a sleeping boy's face at night. Weird is imagining his eyes going all bloodshot and cartoon-ey afterwards..