I love you...but my dog doesn't

Work week Top Seven or Why I love going to work everyday!

2010-09-20T19:58:00.000-07:00

I work in a locked psych facility...I hear things that could make a sailor blush, a nun curse and myself almost cry from holding back the laughter. It is a hard job, don't get me wrong...but it is a rewarding job like no other. Nothing makes me smile more or my heart swell like a moment of connection with someone who is so far into their own head that they barely know who they are...it is an awesome feeling. Today, I am going to share with you the top seven funny things (can't remember ten) I have been told or overheard this week...(confession...a couple may be older, but most are this week).

7. Residents discussing a recovery meeting, a female resident says, "I need to go to the recovery meeting...I am recovering from being an asshole." Male resident, "Everyone has something to overcome."

6. Resident to staff..."I don't want to live here anymore!" Staff, "Why?" Resident, "Cause these people are fucking crazy!"

5. "Why do men have nipples?" "I don't know, why?" "So they can keep their eyes on you."

4. "Nurse, can you help me with my shoes? I am not pregnant, just too fat."

3. "I am General MacArthur." "Can I be Truman?"

2. "I almost didn't see you sitting there..." "It's because I am invisible."

1. To his psychiatrist today...(my personal fave)...."You, sir, are not a doctor...you are a psychotic!!!!" Slam (office door)

I will try to improve my memory...and will post some staff-to-staff overhears as well, I hope you laughed at least one...and know that I am sharing these with a heart full of love, not criticism. My residents are some of the greatest people I know...and I would bring many home if I could. I felt so blessed this week when I was charting and one of our quieter ones got my attention and said, "Jungle G*, I love you." Heart melted then and there. Have a great week, I know I will.

*Not my real name.

My oh My...where has the time gone or What have I been doing with my life?

2010-09-16T12:57:00.000-07:00

Where to begin...I have finished with my schooling...for the moment and am currently working full time, again, finally and thankfully. Krash is as wonderful as ever and so supportive of life's changes, not sure about that second part, but I am going with it. I have joined a "Fitness Center" and I am actually going...amazing I know. I am hoping to get back to this blog and being a contributor on my friends on occasion. Enough of that...let's share some of the fun details...

I passed the state boards in June and I am now a Certified Nursing Assistant, step one in a list of many, I know. I am working in a locked psychiatric long-term care facility...I see so much material in my future. Most of my co-workers are as crazy as I am...I think we are just learning the system for future residency. I think I may be engaged as I was purposed to by a male resident in the shower during my second week. I will keep you posted about any wedding details as I get them.

I have dyed my hair dark, got a brand new tattoo last week and have decided that, with Krashes' final approval of course, that I am going to try this relationship crap again...nothing crazy, no Internet dating or singles groups...just being more open to the world around me and see where it goes. I have a few prospects at the moment...no rush, no worries.

I have been having more fun than a person should be allowed with my amazing friends and awesome family...so I have not been sitting idle...or behaving for that matter. I hope that this gets everyone caught up...and please stay tuned for there will be a "Notes from the Nuthouse" header soon.

Krash and the Dragon or the perfect pet...for your pet.

2009-08-09T00:04:00.000-07:00

We got a Bearded Dragon...yes, the big lizard that hulks out when angry. I thought the dog would find it about as interesting as the Hermit Crabs...intrigue for about an hour...boredom ever since.

WRONG!

When we brought the Dragon, Eddie Lizard, home...no interest. Then we put the Dragon in its habitat...psycho dog. Licking, sniffing, growling and barking at the aquarium. Then scratching at the glass...whining...licking. I am sure you get the idea. The best part was when the Dragon and Krash were licking one another through the glass...weirdos.

Later, I was doing dishes (exciting for you? yeah me too) and Tall Boy was watching some T.V., Krash started nosing through his toy box...grabbed his snowman and ran down the hall and offered it to the Dragon. I heard him barking his I-am-not-getting-what-I-want-bark and shortly there after he brought the snowman to me. I have gone on the assumption that the Dragon did not accept this gift. Poor boy.

This fascination continues...when the Dragon is fed, Krash is there...when the Dragon is in the habitat Krash is fascinated...take the Dragon out, no interest. Well, except for the time when we accidentally turned the Dragon loose in the backyard, Krash was pretty interested then. I am sure he was calling us idiots. We got the Dragon back...but that's another story for another night.

They have been living happily ever-after, unfortunately we can't say the same for the crickets.

Happy Mothers Day, Again or Isn't this supposed to be me?

2009-05-10T14:56:00.001-07:00

This is Mothers day, correct? I know it was when I got up this morning. I believe it to be an all day event, or am I wrong? If this is Mother's day, then why isn't this me?

I guess Mothers day has turned into "Dogs day". I know what Krash would say,"Everyday is dogs day, mommy. Everyday."

He might also wonder if there are any donuts left over from breakfast...and I would have to say,"You snooze you lose."

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!

2009-05-09T14:35:00.000-07:00

This is best wishes for the day bestowed upon all you moms out there. Human moms, dog moms, cat moms, horse moms...this could go on forever. It takes a lot to be a mom...no matter if your child is animal, vegetable or mineral. Let's be honest I have seen "real" children that fall in all of those categories. Actually, a few might be all three.

I have had many a debate with moms about how much easier it is to be a dog mom, than it is to be a "real" mom. I see their side...I am not claiming it's easy...ever. I can leave my "kid" home alone for days and no one would call CPS, I can lock my "kid" out of the house without much consequence...we all know mine "lives" in the closet. How much trouble could that get you into?

I just want to take a few minutes to plead the case of a dog mom...that was not my intention when I started this post, however this is where I have ended up. Here goes...you have potty training...we have housebreaking...you have trips to the doctor for shots and check ups...we have those same trips...I have spent time in the doggy ER...awaiting the news. I know you moms have too. We all have a lot of the same trouble finding sitters and wondering what kind of mess we will come home to...

This is were the paths diverge...your child learns to feed itself...clean up after themselves...learns to tell you where it hurts and just exactly what they did to end up in that predicament...dog moms are mothers to permanent toddlers. They reach a certain skill level* and that's it...my kid will never start dinner before I get home...run to the store to pick up milk for breakfast. I will never get mine to make the bed, do the laundry or talk to "Grandma" while mommy is busy.

The worst part, that so often gets overlooked, is the life expectancy of my child is no where the length of yours. I know going in that our time together will be short...at the age of three mine is an adult, by seven middle-aged headed for senior citizen. I know that when he leaves there will be an empty spot in my life that will be hard to fill...most of you will be blessed with lifetime with your child. I pray that your children are happy and healthy...with many years ahead.

Again, this isn't me saying that "real" moms have it easy or that "real" moms aren't the greatest. I have a lot respect for you women who choose to do a job that I chose not to. It's like my niece-in-law told my mother at her 70th birthday party, "Do you realize that without you 75% of us in this room wouldn't be here?" She was right.

*Yes, I know there are service dogs...but that's not what I am writing about. Although, let's give the foster families that work with them in the beginning a huge round of applause.

He thinks he's Goldilocks...or who has been telling him bedtime stories?

2009-05-07T10:22:00.000-07:00

I have really started to have some concerns about my dog and his "imagination". I don't think he's crazy, although I am sure I am. I spend a lot of quality time with my boy...he is very good at listening (or pretending to at least)...so I often tell him stories. He sits next to me on the sofa and I tell him a story, see I am crazy. I usually tell him only a certain part of Little Red Riding Hood. This started for two reasons, one is because I am often asked, "Is that a wolf?" I always giggle and say no. Two, when he is with his Gra-nanny (Gramma/Nanny) he often gets almost nose to nose with her in her recliner and when she has on her glasses...well it's just to much like the drawings in Little Red. This is how "our story" usually goes...

Me: Krash, my what big ears you have. Now, you say...All the better to hear you with.

Krash: Love and adoration from those eyes...

Me: Krash, my what a big nose you have. Now you say...All the better to you smell you with.

Krash: Love and adoration from those eyes...

Me: Krash, my what big eyes you have. Now you say all the better to see you with.

Krash: Love and adoration from those eyes...

Me: Krash, my what big teeth you have. Now you say...RRRAWRRR and bite

Krash: ...tries to bite me...

I guess in actuality it is less of a story and more of a conditioning or trick. It is always Little Red Riding Hood and nothing else...this brings me to the problem. I know the above is probably a problem, however it is not the one we are focusing on.

He is turning into, I guess has always been, Goldilocks. He is all about beds...any bed, anywhere, anytime. I don't mean dog beds, I am talking about people beds. He gets in my bed, my mothers' bed, my sisters' bed, he got in the bed in the big rig...beds, beds, beds. I took him to my brothers house, within fifteen minutes he was in his bed. He doesn't really stay long, but he tries them all out. I took him to my nieces', when we she was keeping people hidden for the surprise party...six air mattresses...Krash tried them all. Sound like a little blonde girl? HHHMMMM...

As I have stated earlier, my nephew is now staying/living with us...well, we finally got him a bed. No more air mattress...yes, Krash tried that out too. We moved the mattress into Tall Boys room (he is 6' 5") and before we could even get sheets on it, Krash was in it. Tail wagging, big smile, trying out another one. Tall Boy doesn't care and neither do I...we just wonder,

"Who told him about Goldilocks?"

Therapy for the dog or should it be for me?

2009-05-03T13:53:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay we all know I adore my boy...but I think he is having an identity crisis...I think it could be my fault...this is where the title question comes into play. Krash is Pembroke Welsh Corgi and Australian Cattle Dog (aka Queensland Heeler...what ever, I prefer ACD) and a small dash of Husky...only enough for vocal sassing. My point, yes I do have one, is Cattle dog. Corgis' are herders of cattle, Cattle dogs are herders of cattle (my goodness, it's right in the name), so why o why does mine herd birds? And Raccoons? Cats?

We have been going to Dog Beach on Thursday nights, about 10:30 pm and my boy has almost drowned himself twice each trip trying to catch seabirds...I mean waves crashing over his head and he keeps going. Have I mentioned that Krash is that-don't-get-my-face-wet-kid-in-the-pool kid, he doesn't want to be splashed either...he usually avoids the waves. About a month ago he treed two raccoons in our backyard, you have probably read the skunk incident and I pity the ducks and geese at the lake. (He will "herd" people that are playing with him and has gotten pretty good with body shots to the knees.) Boozey the cat sometimes gets an escort down the hall...often with his head in Krashes' mouth. OY!

Today, he really did it. We have a couple of birds as "pets". The last of two white doves and a Love bird, named Chatter. Krash keeps a watchful eye and has kept them alive and safe from local predators. Well, the bird keeper left the door open on the doves cage, again (this happened twice before...one has never been seen again and the other came back after a day). The dove apparently came back today, I was unware...but Krash new.

I was scooping the poop on the side of the house (want to stay grounded, get a dog) when Krash came tearing around the house with something white in his jaws...

Me: "What did he unstuff, now?" Three seconds, "Oh shit, drop that bird" "Drop it, drop it!"

The neighbors came running! Krash dropped it, surrounded by a plethora of white feathers.

Krash:"Look, Mommy. I got the bird, he left but I got him back."

The bird is safe...surprisingly no blood...just a few, okay several feathers missing. I guess that's one way to clip his wings. Krash is now very confident in his skills...when I approach the cage...I get this...

Krash: "See Mommy, the bird is here. Bird in cage. I is a good boy...give me cookie...good boy...I get cookie."

This is the scary part...the capture of the bird was witnessed. Krash jumped and grabbed the bird off a low hanging branch. Jumped, grabbed and proceeded to run like a maniac with a bird in his mouth. He is not a BIRD dog...he is supposed to be a CATTLE dog...why doesn't he know this...???

Me Oh My...How the time does fly!

2009-04-12T11:01:00.000-07:00

I knew it had been awhile since I left a post, but wow! I didn't realize it had been this long. I have been busy with school, I have an A+ gpa...yippee for me! I have also decided to change my major...ahhh college. We had a huge surprise party for my mother and family reunion, that included two DISNEY RESORT trips and one to the ocean that left me the proud parent of a hermit crab. We have two, actually because I got one for my 19-year-old nephew, who decided to move in with me (again) while down for the party. I know Krash is happy...cause that dog LOVES that boy...I guess I must admit I do too. The boy was here when I first brought Krash home...they are brothers of sorts.

We took Krash for his first beach trip of the season and as happens every year...he sprained his tail. Go ahead and laugh...I always do. (BAD MOMMY) He is the only dog I know that does this. He only does it at the beach. I have to admit that my "son" loves to shake his ass. It brings about two weeks of watching him sit, gingerly and always looking like he is in trouble. I don't realize how much I rely on his tail for clues to his state of mind until he doesn't use it...the "sprain" lasts about two to three weeks...poor guy. I also know that I am the only dog parent at the beach that I have ever heard saying, "Watch your ass, don't shake it so much." I am often then stuck with a dreaded ear worm, Mystikals', 'Shake It Fast'...never been a fan, but when your dog shakes it and breaks it, what else can you do?

There's a puppy in my toilet or How was your Thanksgiving?

2009-01-31T21:57:00.000-08:00

Okay, okay...I know, I know...I haven't blogged in a long while. I do have a wonderful excuse...HOMEWORK and Krash has been a really good boy, or I just haven't noticed the damage yet.

So, I have decided to tell a story that should have been told in November. My niece and her family got a puppy, a beautiful black lab named Biff, not my first name choice either. He was six weeks old when they brought him home and by Thanksgiving he was about nine weeks and pushing twenty pounds. Krash was pleased to hear that he would have someone to play with aside from the humans on that turkey-eating-nap-taking holiday that the humans seem to love so. This would be Biff's first visit to my house, expectations were low and being an animal house no surprises expected. Me of so little faith.

We, Krash and I, awoke that morning to a drizzly wet day and went for our morning walk anyway. By the time the guests began to arrive the backyard was pretty wet, however it didn't appear to soggy (read: muddy). Krash was excited and happy to have a little friend to show around and we humans were pretty distracted by our own fun. I do know that Krash taught Biff to use the dog-door within the first five-minutes, he shows this to everyone. What a good boy.

Biff, however, used the door to go out to play, yet didn't make the connection to use this to go "potty" as well. "Oops, what's that wet spot on the rug?" No, big deal. Can we clean this, yes we can. "Oops, ahem, your puppy is P**ping on the dog bed!" Can we clean this, yes we can. This of course occurred over several hours. The dogs were getting a little dirty now, and having such fun making "cave art" on the kitchen floor and the strategically placed towels to wipe their paws on.

We, the humans, planned on going to visit an Aunt and Uncle who lived in the next town and were unable to attend due to health issues.

"Uh, what should we do with Biff?"

"Well, we can't take him."

"I trust Krash, but I don't know what Biff will do."

"We can't leave him in the backyard, it's raining."

It appears that he is a digger as well, because he came barreling through the dog-door muddy as can be...giant cave art paw prints everywhere. Many apologizes from my niece, with me saying,"Trust me, this is not the worst this floor has seen and I am sure it isn't the last mud it will see either." We decided to leave him in the bathroom with plenty of food and water and nice towel to rest on. We planned on being gone and hour and a half at most. I should have know this was a bad idea when Krash gave me a look that said, "seriously, you think this is smart?"

Of course we thought we were smart...we put the trash can where it couldn't be reached, as well as the shower curtain, and it looked puppy proof. We were WRONG...very, very wrong. The first sound you heard when opening the front door, besides Krash running down the hall, was what can only be described as a battering ram against the bathroom door.

"Well, Biff is happy were home", someone said.

My niece opened the door to be met by a soaking wet, can't-get-traction-on-the-tile-let-me-out-now black bullet, that went flying down the hall, leaving us wondering, "WHAT THE HELL?"as we surveyed the mess. Krash arrived in the doorway, with an I-told-you-so expression on his face.

First things first...a quarter of a roll of toilet paper was chewed off the roll, not pulled, CHEWED. There were large, muddy paw prints halfway up the wall toward the window, the back of the door was nothing but smeared muddy paw prints. There were muddy smears on the lid of the toilet seat that was down now, as when we left, lifting the lid we found more muddy paw prints and smears on that side as well, the bowl contained dirty/muddish water. My niece and I looked at each other and at the same time,"Omigod, he fell in the toilet!"

"That's why is soaking!!!!"

"The poor baby."

"No, wonder he is so freaked."

I found muddy paw prints in odd places for days following this incident.

We got things back to normal (or so with thought), with my niece apologizing all over the place and me consoling her with, "it's okays" and "don't worries". Krash was following Biff around with the you-are-so-busted attitude and acting superior. It was shortly after this that my sister cornered me and whispered, "The toilet handle is broken, it just spins around when you push it." "Oh, great. That's a new one."

The horror that Biff must have experienced in my bathroom.

The day, in spite of a lab in the lavatory was wonderful and good time had by all, except maybe Biff. Everyone went home full and thankful, with memories in there hearts and smiles on their faces.

I was left alone with a broken toilet and a smug-jackass of a dog.

I wouldn't have changed it for the world.

The gopher...

2009-01-02T23:43:00.000-08:00

I am unsure if this is a people story...and that should read "crazy" people story or an animal story. I know that it has animals in it...well, it's about an animal or animals really...but I think it's more of a crazy people (sibling) story. My sister, is an OTRT...for those not in the know, that is an Over-the-Road trucker. She is on the road for approximately three weeks and home for one...give or take. Sister (yes, we really do refer to each other as sister) got home a few days before Thanksgiving...her first morning home I went to chat with her in her room, as ritual demands...her being the older and all...pesky little sisters we are. This of course is never just a visit from me...Krash follows along as well. On our pass through the kitchen, I noticed that "Boozey" the cat and the fuzzball dog (not mine) were acting odd in the backyard; Krash noticed too and shot through the dog portal at warp speed. I knew in my soul that couldn't be good.

I followed Krash out and there he was...the gopher. The poor little roly poly gopher... he was surrounded. Two barking dogs and one nightmarish cat...I stated firmly,"Nobody touch him!" And to my shock and awe...they all backed away. I, of course, was calling for my sister. He was unharmed and trying to dig a fresh hole in hard packed dirt...not really working for him. I herded the wild bunch into the house and placed the "slide" in the escape hatch...HAH, that'll teach those buggers. Now what do you do with the gopher? I couldn't let him be eaten...I couldn't KILL him...I don't have it in me. Now, if it was the ex...I might have done him in. What do you do? Well, we let him try to find his own escape route, yet after watching him roll around and look confused for about five minutes...we knew that wasn't working. Next and only option...relocation.

How do you relocate a gopher, you ask. Well, you start with the broom...and look for holes that have some depth, actual "gopher" holes and not dog holes. Now, I really want you to picture this...two grown women...in pajamas...in the chill of early morning...running around the backyard...shoving the end of a broom into random gopher holes...saying things such as, "Nope, not deep enough" and, "Not there the dogs can see." Remember, I am the one who referred to my former neighbors as crackheads...thankfully that house was still empty at the time. Finally, we found a viable option...now how do you get the gopher to the hole? Without getting the rabies??

A big flat scoop (as in pooper-scooper) and shovel to guide him onto it...YESSSS! We can do this. My sister was the one with the scoop, I got to use the shovel. Have I mentioned that we are both wearing flip-flops. I don't think they are rated for gopher attacks...yikes. I, as gingerly, as possible get him on to the scoop...then we run, and I do mean run to our release site. I swear that bugger grew wings, because as soon as we got him close he was down the hole so fast, I had to wonder if ever existed. My sister, older and wiser, (yea right) chose that exact moment to give voice to her own thoughts, "Gee, I hope that's not a snake hole." O gee, what a great moment to consider this option.

I kept the rodent patrol in the house for at least fifteen full minutes before allowing them outside, I wanted to allow the gopher time to escape, Krash was in the yard all of thirty seconds before he had his nose in the hole. Stupid dog noses, so much for out witting my dog. My sister and I then started pondering little scenarios...I could see him coming home late to his wife and trying to explain that he had been surrounded by wild animals, when two creatures (me and sister) with what was possibly a space ship (the steel pooper scooper) lifted him up and dropped him for whatever reason at his mother-in-laws house. Things of this nature went on for sometime, we laughed so hard our sides ached. I had pretty much forgotten our "good deed" and figured that he arrived home safely, or possibly it had been a snake hole, until a couple a days ago.

I was in the side yard chatting over the fence with Krashes' girlfriends mom. She looked around at the greenery, and observed the fresh mounds of dark, rich earth pushed up in piles around the side yard and said, "Gina, it looks like you might have gopher." Really, do you think so? I just shook my head and mumble,"Yea, I think so." I didn't tell her that I knew him, or that if asked I would have to admit that I am no longer a member of the gopher rescue and relocation program. I think next time I will look for that snake hole.

2009...Bring it on!

2009-01-01T11:47:00.000-08:00

Well, here I am again.

It's been awhile and like so many of you I have been busy with family, friends and living life day to day through the holidays.

I am welcoming 2009, with open arms.

I must admit that 2008, wasn't the best year for myself and those in my circle. I am pleased that are several things that I am grateful for in the year past...but my hope is in the future and my faith is in the present.

Krash and I have been keeping ourselves entertained and I will, as promised earlier share some of the OMG and happy moments with all of you...soon.

I am not one to set resolutions...I believe that if you really want change; start at that moment...not by some date on a calender. I am hoping for big changes...positive changes. I have taken the steps for some of them already. I start school next Tuesday...yes, there is an enrollment story there. Ah, yes...it seems there is a story in everything.

However, you will have to wait. I want to wish everyone a year that is better than the last and the state of mind to find the humor in it.

How the time flies or What have I been doing with my time!

2008-12-11T20:46:00.000-08:00

Yes. Yes. Yes. Krash and I are still living...with some highlights we (or I) would like to share. I don't want to overwhelm so I will dole these adventures out slowly, (everything in moderation) and not necessarily in order of occurrence.

I will give you some hints, or should I call them samples, or better yet, examples? My sister and I saved a gopher from two dogs and a disappointed cat, a puppy IN my toilet on Thanksgiving, class registration, a trip to the airport in big rig, a trip to the movies and a day at the zoo.

I will elaborate on the zoo trip with this...you haven't lived until you have been to the zoo with a five year old boy singing, "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot, like me..." and dancing too. His alternating line was, "Where are the monkeys with the rainbow butts?" ALL of this was done at top of voice...I love being noticed.

Well, stay tuned...or not...it's your call.

More Adventures in Babysitting...or What's that water noise Part Deux?

2008-11-14T16:55:00.000-08:00

I decided to leave Krash at home and just feed the horses and not spend the evening tonight, I also wanted to capture the horses on film. I arrived at the house with my camera in tow and the fresh washed dog blanket. I told the horses that we would be having a pre-dinner photo shoot. I got a few photos and then got them their dinner. I heard a familiar noise during all this, however it just wasn't registering in my mind. I, like the rest of us, had way to many thoughts racing around to notice that sound...I turned from the feeders and headed to the water trough.

HOLY MOLY MOTHER OF PEARL!!!!

Water...gushing, rushing, spewing water...that was the noise! At least this time it wasn't the dog again, although that might be better. The brand new hole-hasn't-even-been-filled-in-yet watering system has separated at one of the two elbow joints...gallons of water are flowing down into the culvert. O Joy!

I lept into action...well kinda...it was more gingerly than an actual leaping. These following factors came into play:

1) gushing, spewing water

2) 4 ft deep hole (now filled with water)

3) electric "hot wire" fence located inches above water system

4) me...alone

5) angry displaced ants

I decided to try to turn the water off at the valves located on the system...not budging...leverage sucks...big hole...hot-wire...water...I am now soaked. Did I mention the ants? The thousands of angry ants that have been displaced by rising flood waters, they are carrying all the belongings they can...I am trying to balance myself from falling into a hole, not get electrocuted and eaten by ants....this is not my Friday.

RAWR!

I will call the owners...I always keep my cell on me when I am there...just in case. This is where I make the understatement of the year...

Jungle G: Hi, Bob. This is Gina. We have little bit of a problem here. The water is leaking...well, the pipe is broken. How do I shut it off?

Bob: Turn the valve...

JG: I can't...it's wet and I can't get leverage? Is there another option?

Bob: At the street.

Okay, this leads to a few more minutes of directions and such I will spare you the boring parts.

Bob: I know the one side was leaking a little but I thought it would hold.

JG: We are loosing gallons here, Bob. It's totally separated.

Bob: I can get you some help...

JG: Please that would be great.

Well. Like a dog with a bone...I go back down to the horse area and keep trying...I do it. I turn the water off. I call back with the good news to hear...

Bob: Well, that's good. I couldn't reach the neighbor and if I called someone else it would take at least an hour for them to get there.

BTW...at this point I have been there an hour. The conversation continues with apologies to me. That is so unnecessary...if you have large animals these things happen. I take my dripping wet, muddy self up to the house. I have to drop the mail and dog blanket too.

As I am exciting the kitchen to leave my eyes fall on a container of jumbo cookies. I am offered to make myself at home...yet I never do with the exception of beverages. Is that chocolate chip? Oh my, yes, it is. Chocolate chips the size of my thumb...I guess that would be a chunk not a chip...mmmm...oh look there are two...with two other flavors...hhhhmmmm.

Should I, shouldn't I?

I am in your kitchen...eating your cookie.

I totally deserve it...besides it's just one (unless we have more fun and games tomorrow).

Adventures in Babysitting or Can you keep a Secret?

2008-11-14T13:15:00.000-08:00

I would like to announce that I have recovered from the flu and after this morning I kind of wish I hadn't. I have a friend, a former co-worker/supervisor who owns horses. They are senior citizens...they are both 24 years of age. When she and her husband plan any out of town time I am the first call. "Are you available for sitting? Please say yes?" I have only said no once. I enjoy spending time with the horses and I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the house. It has become an oasis of sorts for me. I have been horse-sitting for close to 8 years. I also like that she allows me to bring Krash; being a dog mommy herself. Having done this so long Krash is very accustomed to her home and yard; he enjoys his time there too. Or so I thought...

Last night we went to feed and did our usual routine without incident. This morning, not so much. I fed the horses...Krash ran around in the grass (did I mention we pretty much have dirt?) and chased the neighbor Chow along the fence. We headed back up to the house to feed the fish (I believe I have offed more of her fish than she will ever confess too)...

Jungle G: (thinking) What is that running water sound?!

I turn toward the sound...OH THE HORROR! There stands Krash, in the middle of the living room PISSING in the middle of her dogs bed!!!! Not peeing, not a few sprinkles or drips, full out pissing...like he was in the yard. Sorry, but it is the best description.

Jungle G: "KRASH! What are you doing?"

Krash: (stopping midstream) "What?! I am just ..." seeing my expression, "O shit! Run to the door, mommy is angry, run to the door!" Door is closed (of course)...Uh, stand here and look so very sorry. Tuck the tail, lower the head and avert the eyes...oops. This place doesn't have the escape hatch like home does (aka doggie door)...uh...hi mommy.

I fortunately have a dog who aims well...not a drop on the carpet and because I acted quickly it only got the blanket the covers the dog bed; which I balled up and brought home to clean. I told Krash how bad that is and reminded him that we "go" outside, no matter what! I still don't know what possessed him to do this...he has been house broken since the second week he came to live with me over 2 1/2 years ago. He travels with me to several friends and family members homes...he spent several hours yesterday with me at my nieces. NEVER once has he done anything in their homes...EVER!

Why, why, why? This I will never know...but I do know this...I am washing doggie bedding today that isn't mine and wondering why couldn't I have just died from the flu instead?

Ahhh Sweet November...or please kill me now.

2008-11-10T13:23:00.001-08:00

I am so glad that the election is over; I have been trying to recover from it ever since. I always work the elections and let me tell you it is a long day. The precinct I work has the highest average in the district so as you may imagine this last one had a HUGE turnout. I was very proud of my fellow Americans for getting out and voting...we had rain that day and still the numbers were so high.

Yeah US!

The main reason I am glad its over are all selfish ones really. I am glad to have my mailbox, voicemail, telephone and television free of political ads and mayhem. I am thankful that in my neighborhood most of the signs are down as well. There seems to be for the most part a calmness settling over the land as we enter a "wait-and-see-what-is-to-come" period of speculation and expectation. I will accept the fact that things like "what-kind-of-puppy" are still capturing headlines and I know some are having debates on this. I will say that as a lover of dogs, I have been very happy to hear words like rescue and adoption. I believe dog breeds are a personal choice and wish the new first family the best in the search for a "best" friend. That is all I will say on matters political...at least here that is.

Now, I want you to know that I have being praying for the sweet release of death ever since election day. Not for the reasons you may assume...I have been stricken with the flu every day since. Yuk. It has been horrible. I am not sure if I was "blessed" by one of the many voters or someone I worked with that day; I do know that I caught it and I caught it good...or bad. They both seem to work in this situation. I am now on the downhill slid...I think. I see the light at the end of the tunnel...wait...that may not be a good thing...ah, at this point who cares. Dogs are wonderful and supportive at times...however, Krash is a lousy nurse. He did check on me; I am the source of food and snacks you know. Yet, he isn't well equipped for getting juice and making soup...not to mention all those other needs a sick person requires. I do have to admit that he was fine with all the whining, complaining and general crankiness that he did have to endure. He was also very calm and quiet, so maybe he is better than a nurse...and he never once took me up on the request of, "please, please just kill me now".

I guess he should be voted Best Friend Ever...well, at least until next election.

Not MY toys or that'll teach you...

2008-10-30T11:48:00.000-07:00

Deep cleaning the house today...I mean moving furniture and all that wonderful stuff. Lots of vacuuming and dog hair removal. I picked up the majority of Krashs' toys and put them back into his toy box...yes, he has a toy box from IKEA, I put it together myself. As you know cleaning also = throwing out s*&T. After watching me make a few trips to the garbage and some "donation boxes", Krash the kind hearted one he is made a stack of newer toys on his bed and laid across them.

DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, MOMMY! These are mine and I don't have to shares...with anyone...ever.

I assured him that his "things" were safe...and continued cleaning. I decided that since I wanted the kitchen floor to remain clean for more than a few minutes that I would dump the pool. This process was not well received, either. Why you get rid of water...why you not fill back up...why you sooooo mean?! This was my error in judgement...pool water and dirt = mud. Why didn't I think of that? He let it soak into the ground really nicely...then proceeded to dig a big, deep hole...I knew this because:

A) the dirt on his nose
B) the dirt on his feet
C) he was seen lying in the hole
D) he did this while I was getting my haircut by my sister-in-law, E.
E) all of the above

The correct answer is (wait for it.....) E) all of the above. He had to do this while I had someone with scissors and my hair in their hands...and with the rapt audience of my 8 & 5 year old nephews. Always have an audience...

Boys: Krash is funny...look at Krash. He is making a hole...(giggles giggles giggles)

Krash...throwing dirt, well mud. Everywhere...big grin and tail wags.

Boys: Look, Krash is so dirty, look Krash is going in the house...(bigger giggles)

Krash and I, locking eyes across the patio...

That will teach you, mommy. Don't mess with my pool....

Jungle Gina: JACKASS! (In my head of course the children were present)

I guess it comes to this; please learn from my mistakes...don't clean and piss the dog off on the same day...especially when he will have an enthusiastic audience.

Campo Craziness...

2008-10-29T13:03:00.000-07:00

On Monday I did my usual trek to Campo...I must admit the drive isn't feeling any shorter. I still can't believe that I drive it...but that is not the craziness. I was "weighing in" clients and I am not kidding...someone weighed in wearing nothing but a bikini!

A RED BIKINI!

The sad part, she was still up from the week before...oops. Why, why, why? Maybe you should skip the cookie...or pass on weighing in for the week! Why subject your fellow attendees to this. I felt so bad for the one man who was there...not to mention the small children. She didn't look bad in her bikini and I do admire her feeling comfortable enough to wear one (I couldn't)...but can we talk about appropriate behavior?

Is it just me? Does this make anyone else uncomfortable? I know I heard other attendees making comments and being a little "put off " by this...what do you think?

On a good note...I got waived through the check point...first time ever. I was actually kind of stunned...maybe I am losing my "edgy-smuggler" look? Or had I just been subjected to enough for the evening?!

Youngun's in Love...or the new "bitch".

2008-10-29T12:31:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been too long since my last post...so much craziness going on. I am going to limit this to one portion of that craziness...Krash is in love. There is a new girl next door...she is a four month old German Shepard. She is adorable.

They are both neutered so it's not really a "sex" thing...it's a literal case of "puppy love". When she wakes in the morning and is let into her yard, I hear her "chuff" (soft barks) for my boy. I hear him slip (fairly) quietly out the doggie door to see her. I don't know what exchange is made, yet it seems to make them happy.

This morning, her mother and I took them both for a walk...they were all googly-eyes and wagging tails. When we got back we turned them loose in her backyard. WOW! They were so happy...running, jumping, chasing...googly-eyes and tail wagging. I think it is cute...although I must admit my boy is trying to teach some silly habits. He is trying to convince her that water tastes better if you wash your dirty feet in it...and it's fun to "dig" in the water bowl...ahhh, a boy and his mud. What can I say...he is a total BOY! She wears pink, but I don't think she is too girlie; she drank his muddy-feet water. If that isn't "love" what is...? I hope Krash can survive their love, (he is worn out and passed out) because right now they are the same size, and in a few months she will be the big dog...uh oh. Let's hope she doesn't become the "bitch" next door.

Crack Heads Part Deux

2008-10-23T12:11:00.000-07:00

The saga continues...or should it be the mystery continues. I got home from work around 8 o'clock...a little after most likely. I got my usual welcome of your home, your home, you came back, you came back...etc etc. Don't be too impressed I also get this reception when I take out the garbage or check the mail. However, I digress. I made a little supper and watched some TV. We played with some toys, bounced around the living room and there was some tummy rubbing involved, his not mine. All was seemingly normal...then I heard Krash in the backyard giving hell to something or someone in the direction of the crack head neighbors. If I didn't know better I would have thought that Freddy Kruger was in our backyard. I called him in (against his better judgement...oh the dirty looks) and placed the slide in the dog door, again more ill-tempered looks in my direction. I couldn't really see anything or anyone so I really didn't give it another thought...

Then I heard an odd squeaking and some strange metal sounds. HHHHMMMM...what are they up to now? It is now about 10:30pm and I decided to see what exactly I can see...I go into the work out room...without the lights...because you CAN NOT spy with the lights on. Dun...dun...dun. I couldn't see...the area where I can usually see through was blacked out. I could see little orange-ish lights and bright lights under the blacked out area...I could even see someone with a flashlight underneath...WTH?! What are they doing? I went back to the kitchen...every light in their house was on. Energy waste much? I heard a mans voice, "We need another outlet here..."

This sent my brain into over drive.

Oh, oh...I know they're are making a haunted house. Halloween is going to blow this year, I am so not looking forward to an all-nighter with the neighbors. This is going to be so insane...we don't get any trick or treaters in our neighborhood so this would be an adult party, and by adult I really mean crack head. O joy! On that note I try to put it out of my mind while tidying up the kitchen before bed.

It's now...11:45pm (I took a two hour nap this afternoon, oops) and the voices are getting louder, there is a metal thumping noise and still that damn squeaking. I decided to redo the spy action...out the window is still the large black-out area...I go into the kitchen...same thing. O goodness...was that someone walking down a ramp? WTH? Oh no, are they building a stage? No, no please no. Not only a party with people, in costumes and drunkenness, but a live band to boot. Great...that won't turn the dog into a little psycho...no that will be a dream. Nightmare...is more like it. Don't get me wrong, I love all those things, just not mixed with these particular neighbors.

Well, there is nothing I can do at this point...well, nothing that wouldn't get me arrested.

It is now 12:30am, everything is getting louder next door. People, the noise is supposed to wind down not up as the evening progresses. I do the spy check, everything is the same in the back window...out the kitchen I see people with boxes, baskets and hampers...the are walking up the ramp...it's a moving truck! Yipee! They are moving, yes, no party...no more late nights...yesss! Wait, why are they moving in the middle of the night? Is SWAT on the way? Will they be on COPS? Or worse, will I be on COPS? Are they all moving? Or just a couple or just one? I decide at this point who cares...I will know more in the morning.

Krash sounds off at about 3:30am...I awaken long enough to register the sound of the truck leaving...with whom in it, I don't yet know. As of this morning I know that the grill, firewood (my tree thank you), dog gates and few other fairly large items are all I see. What I don't see is the dogs, or people. I am waiting for sundown...maybe they are too?

POST UPDATE:

Well this afternoon I heard several car doors slam and someone KNOCKING on the neighbors door...two things went through my mind.

1) There is only one group of people who knock like that.

2) NO ONE EVER KNOCKS ON THAT DOOR!

Ah-ha, I am correct...it is the local Sheriff's coming to evict the neighbors. I am so tired of renters, however they are a huge source of material. Well, I must keep Krash from getting arrested, let's just say he has no respect for the badge. And, one last thing...I will be getting to bed earlier...until the next group moves in.

A trip to Petco or how to please your pooch...

2008-10-21T14:27:00.001-07:00

Well, it was that time again, the scoop in the dog bin was scraping bottom...off to Petco (it's where the pets go), armed with my free bag of dog food coupon, my PALs card and my trusty sidekick. The joy begins as soon as I grab both my purse and the leash...Krash is frantic with joy. If only we could be so excited about anything, with his leash in his mouth we head to the car.

Windows down, windows down! I back out and pull into traffic...Krashes head pops out the open window...true wind surfing...at its finest. I slow down (traffic light), Krash pulls his head in and stares at me...faster mommy, faster. Faster, faster, faster! This pretty much continues until we get close to Petco. Now, the real excitement is building. I know where we're going...I know where we're going! I park and he literally uses his big head to push me out of the car. We're here, we're here!

We go inside...first stop...Chinchillas...hhhhmmm never seen those before...love the nose prints left behind...then hamsters/rats/mice...yeah, yeah...seen those. Big tada moment, OMG, its the rawhide snack bar! Paws up on counter top, nose sniffs deeply...eyes survey the buffet...Yum, Yum. "Okay, Krash, you know the rules...the dog food and one thing...you get one thing." Big eyes, yeah whatever. We are on the move again...the dog department...the mother lode...so much to see...so much to sniff...just so, so much.

We narrow our choices down to a bacon-cheese flavored filled cow hoof (they smell so bad, so of course he LOVES them) or the jumbo size Dingo. He LOVES the red strip in those. What exactly are those red strips, do they sell just the red strip?! Seriously. That is the only part I really need. The choice is made and the Dingo wins. YEAH! I carry the Dingo and now Krash is tiggering down the aisle. (Tiggeritis=a dog that bounces/boings like tigger) Boing, boing, boing. I grab the dog food and we head to the front.

Thankfully there isn't a line...Krash is great in a store until it comes time to pay...he is just ready to leave. I get him to sit...for about 45 seconds. Hey, that woman is touching my Dingo. Hey, you can't have that...oooohhhh look an empty check out lane...what's behind here...hey what are these for? Are those cats in cages, hey, let's check them out...hey, why aren't we leaving?

Back outside and into the car...repeat of trip to the store...we reach home...first stop swimming pool...water every where...I unload the car...he does take his leash inside...where is my Dingo?...Thanks, mommy. Where do you suppose a wet-skunky dog and his dingo go? That's right you win...straight to mommies bed. I give up...how about you?

Moms don't share donuts...just sheep!

2008-10-18T20:09:00.000-07:00

I had a training meeting today. This meeting was located right next door to a donut shop. Have I mentioned how very, very long it has been since I have had a donut. I am weak I couldn't resist...so I purchased me an Apple Fritter.

I showed self restraint and did not eat this in the car on the long drive home. It sat nicely on the seat in it's paper bag...waiting...for me. Before sneaking into the donut shop (I have mentioned that I work for a weight loss company, right?) I went into the local drugstore to purchase a few items (I was also killing time waiting for my fellow co-workers to leave!), along with my needs I picked up a couple of stuffed sheep for Krash, he has NO sheep in his toy box. They are very cute and look like the Serta counting sheep. I thought how nice it would be to give him a present, since I have been gone so much this week.

Fast forward...I arrive home. It's all tail wags and "husky" talk...he is so excited. I am home and with a bag...he is already trying to shove his head inside to see if I have something for him. (Wisely, I have placed the donut bag in my purse.) I pull out the sheep, squeak them, toss them and it's a total love fest...yes! I got new toys, I got new toys...heee heee heee. While he is busy, I settle on to the sofa, kick off my heels and sigh...I pull the donut sack quietly out of my purse, not quietly enough. Eyes turn to me...nose sniffs air...sheep still in mouth. I open the bag and take out my fritter...sheep falls sadly to the floor, no fanfare, just goodbye sheep...Krash leaps from where he stands and lands next to (okay on top of) me. His eyes glaze over and the drooling starts...sheep?...what sheep?

What do you have, mommy? I smell sugar, mommy? Are you gonna eat the whole thing? He is sloooowly moving closer and closer...drool...drool...drool. "Okay, fine...one small bite, but that's it!" Well, four small bites and a short time later...it's gone. All gone. Sad part, it was not as good as I remember...happy part, Krash is snuggling on my bed with his sheep as I type this. Do I know my boy or what?

My Mom went to Jimmy Buffett and...

2008-10-17T00:06:00.000-07:00

Well, she went to Jimmy Buffet with the "girls" and all she came home with was a "hanged over"...or something like that. All I know is she looked like this....

all she kept saying was, "One more margaritas." She kept singing about some place called Margaritaville...I don't know...but I didn't ask either.

POST UPDATE:

I still made her get up today and walk me my mile-plus, haha. Maybe next time she bring me margarita, too!

Campo...again...

2008-10-14T18:02:00.000-07:00

Last night being Monday, was another trip to Campo*. This one was uneventful except for the wind; this was very challenging in some places. I also discovered something that y'all might wish to ponder...in "bad weather" they close the border patrol check point. Does this mean that all "illegal" issues stop because it's a bit windy? I thought this was interesting...seeing as last week I was pulled into secondary and my trunk searched. This was before the fire started...I could see how that may slow down "illegal" activities...but the wind? I was sharing the road with lots of others last night? None of them were Border Patrol.

So, if you plan on smuggling...do it in bad weather.

*Please read earlier post titled Why am I doing this or Campo is where?! for the back story. Thanks!

POST UPDATE: Third trip to Campo...check point open, pulled into secondary again. Wow, I look like a smuggler...I love the thought of being a pirate, but a smuggler?

Heart attack at the grocery or How much for a 1/2 gallon?

2008-10-14T17:04:00.000-07:00

Hi.

I know that things are tough all over and the world is on the precipice of madness. I know that the election, gas prices and the economy are ever present in the media and peoples minds. I want to let you know that I think this is a conspiracy; a watch-the-pretty-assissant-not-the-magician kind of ploy. We are being distracted so we won't grab our pitch forks and storm the castle gate...you have seen what is really going on (what they don't want us to realize) if you have looked in the freezer section at the grocery store.

Ice Cream Prices !!!!

Ice cream is up to $6.99 for a half gallon and lets not forget the pints...oh goodness me the price of a pint. $6.99...HELLO?! That is more than double the price of gas! How did we let this happen! This is not a luxury item...this is a get through LIFE item. I am not thinking about gas prices when I am sitting on the couch watching television. Monday night is ice cream night for Krash and me.

(He eats Frosty Paws a doggie ice cream, not much cheaper.)

What about the broken hearted, the tonsillitis kids, the expectant mothers and fathers, the major dental work people, the college kids, the potheads, and the over eaters alike?! Haven't they been put through enough...when are we going to stand up for them, for ourselves?

Maybe we should grab our spoons and our pitch forks...

whose with me? Anyone?

Krash...the six list....

2008-10-14T12:39:00.001-07:00

Well, since we "share" this blog...six for me should require six for him. I am sure his six will be easier...he is way more open than I.

1) I love anything dirty, filthy, stinky, yucky or what ever makes my mom squeal, "EEEEEWWWW, that is soooooo nasty!" I just can't help myself.

2) I enjoy certain fruits and veggies. There are rules...cucumbers MUST be peeled (apples, peaches, nectarines too), strawberries MUST be sliced, banana chunks can only be offered from the center (no end, plz), NO MELONS OF ANY KIND, craisins, and I love me some cooked broccoli and cauliflower. (This is the short list)

3) I will KILL you for cheese. Seriously, I will do time for cheese...if you have some YOU will share...I will lick it to stop you from eating it. Don't try to sneak it...I will know! I can hear the fridge open from the back yard.

4) I will swim in any pool, puddle, ocean and lay outside in the rain, but DO NOT SPLASH or SQUIRT water at me. Yes, I am that kid...I will not go near the shower, spray bottle, hose or sprinkler but I will drag you into the ocean in the dark or go for a swim in the pool at midnight.

5) I trust and love all children but not many adults.

6) I DO NOT like men in hats, especially Cowboy hats.

I was tagged and so...

2008-10-14T11:53:00.000-07:00

I was tagged...wow...that makes me sound like a wild animal...you know like a bear in the woods. "What happened to you?" "I was tagged, man. Can you believe that shit?" Hmmmm.....I digress. I am supposed to write six things that aren't well known about me...well I guess that leaves out crazy and chatty. Six things...hmmmm...why six? Such an odd number...lists are usually five or ten...twenty-five or one hundred. I am thankful it didn't ask for a hundred or twenty-five; I don't know if I can come up with six.

I will do my best...

1) I am a photographer. Well, I consider myself one anyway. I don't make money at it; that may change in the future. I prefer to photograph nature, animals and young children (before that time when they see the camera and start the "fake" smiling and look stiff and uncomfortable). My dream job would be a crime scene photographer; come in get the photos and go. None of the science stuff...my brain would explode.

2) I am a detective. You say spy or snoop, I say detective. I look at life as puzzle; well aspects of it...I guess analytical would be a good term here. I enjoy trying to figure things out, I always want the end of the story. Yes, I do keep an eye on certain neighbors too, but that is totally different and not really unknown.

3) I am a HUGE fan of Stephen King. I love my "Uncle Stevie" and I am one of his "constant readers". I would totally be his stalker if it didn't require me moving across the country and not being so lazy. I mean being a stalker is full time occupation and I will be honest I just don't have the energy for it. SK is sooooo lucky that I am such a lazy fan. I love you, Steve (not romantically though, sorry), but not enough to get off my ass.

4) I am a football girl. I love the game. I am always so bored when the season ends...I don't watch any other sports...but I do love my Footie Ball. I rearrange my schedule for games (as often as I can)! I don't get crazy though. I do not have a room in my home all decked out in my teams colors or gear. I do have some clothing and mementos and I usually go to one or two games a season. I have threatened/promise to dye Krashes white areas the team colors if and when they make it to the Super Bowl.

GO BOLTS!

5) I have donated my entire body to science. I don't need my parts after I am gone and I hope someone, several some one's can use what they need. I do have to admit that I would love to be sent to one of the Body Farms...that would so ROCK! I know that sounds kind of dark...I hope it doesn't make me sound dark...because that isn't the case. I want to make a contribution where ever I can after I am gone...more people should.

6) I am a clown...well not the big shoes, rubber nose kind. I try to find the humor in everything and everyone. I enjoy hearing others laugh...and if they shoot liquid through their nose, even better. I have been told that I can tell a joke and I don't always try to be funny, sometimes funny just happens. My life for instance I don't think it's supposed to be the big joke that it is...but funny just happens.

Well, I hope this is what the people want...I don't really think they want anything...I have one follower and I must say she is admittedly crazy. Who I am to judge?

Treefort Extinction or Damn the Crack Heads!

2008-10-13T11:49:00.000-07:00

Krash and Rocco (his friend who visits). Please note these photos were taken in the exact same locations...before and after.

Krash: "Dude, its all gone."

Rocco: "Dude, totally"

Together: "Damn Crack Heads!"

*Please read earlier post titled "Crack Heads in Trees!" for the back story.

Yippee for Skippy!

2008-10-13T11:26:00.000-07:00

Well, okay...it's been a few days...I have either been too busy or too tired to post or some combination of the the two, my apologies. This actually goes back to Thursday...when I was awoken to the sound of chain saws and chippers at 7:30am...Hello?! I do own a gun and I am not afraid to use it! Thank goodness the tree business is finished for a time anyway. Krash had been confined for two days and part of Thursday morning due to all the tree business. He was restless and wanted attention...more than usual. Well, unfortunately, I was busy...I had to work in the evening and I had three loads of laundry and several other household projects that I will not bore you with. So, what is a dog mom to do when her beloved furry child is underfoot...well it's the equivalent of putting a movie on for a "real" child. A picture is worth a thousand words...

I think these are priceless.

"Crack heads" in trees!

2008-10-07T18:26:00.000-07:00

Okay...so I have a neighbor, well several share the house next door. I refer to them as the "crack heads". Seriously, no matter how late I am up or whenever I get up during the night they are awake. I have also be awoken at 3:30am to the fire truck, paramedics and cops next door. Disgruntled girlfriend with a knife, a bat, and a box cutter. WOW! But I digress...

Yesterday, my other neighbor "the pot heads" (we are the "hillbillies" in the middle) called and said that our shared tree will be getting a trim on their side, do we want to pay to have our side done. "We'll who is doing this tree trimming for you?" (pause....wait for it) "Your neighbors." Translation = one of the "crack heads". Well, you are probably thinking what I am thinking..."crack heads" in trees...this is going be either an entertaining day or a law suit waiting to happen.

Due to the fact that we had "crack heads" afoot and up above...I decided today on "rainy day schedule" mode for Krash. This means...doors closed and doggy door slide in place. No playing under your favorite tree today...deal with it. I thought this would eliminate the barking...nope...he sat on my bed and barked out the window. "I is so smarter than you, mommy." He soon became bored with this...and the house became as quiet as can be with a "crack head" and chainsaw in your tree.

It became quiet outside and I decided to go out back and check out the progress...I was spotted by the "pot head"...who I will now dub...Lola. She calls out out to me, "Hey Jungle, do you know Skeeter and Bob?" Crap!

JG: "No, I haven't had the pleasure."

Lola: "So, do you want Skeeter to do your half too?" Great, nothing like being put on the spot.

JG: "I have to think about it." Skittering back into the house like a cockroach in the light.

Later, seeing that the tree looks fairly good and now really needs the weight balanced on my side...I venture out to talk to Skeeter. He spots me...and hops the fence. O big brave dog...stop licking the pierced tattooed crackhead will ya?! We stand together under the massive tree and discuss price. I have a nagging in my mind that I know him from somewhere (this says a lot about me). We are near an agreement, when Skeeter looks at me and says, "How old are you? Can I ask how old you are?" You just did...however I have no problems with my age so I answer.

Skeeter:"You look really young, you are only a little older than me."

JG:"Really, well you look familiar to me...and not just because you are my neighbor."

Skeeter: "Do you go to the Rodeo?"

JG:"I have but..." O God, perfect clarity of where we met."Do you work at _____ ______* Tattoo?"

Skeeter:"Yeah, I do sometimes."

JG:"You did the ____tattoo on my friends wrist. You are supposed to put a crown on my ankle."

Skeeter:"O yea, small world."

Well, by this time we are in my living room and he is on Krashes couch...hugging the dog and looking cozy. I liked him when I met him at _____ _____* Tattoo, so why did I trust him with my skin but not in my neighborhood?! A thousand pardons I ask of ye, Skeeter. I guess tonight I will be having crow for dinner.

*I will not disclose where I get inked, either.

Post Update:

Turns out initial judgements were correct...how sad or should that be how scary!

Why am I doing this or Campo is where?!

2008-10-07T13:10:00.000-07:00

So. Yeah. Okay. I was asked by my TM (Territory Manager) to work a meeting on Monday nights in Campo. Now to set the record straight...I have never been to Campo. I have heard stories that it exists in a far away land...I thought they were exaggerations. Ha Ha...I was wrong. Big surprise...huh? Anyway, I accepted.

Thus begins my Big Adventure...in the boonies.
I am due in Campo at 3:45pm so I left my house at 3:00pm. I chose to drive my brothers' car; less gas and a working radio. Yee Haw. I am on the road...I am so rocking the highway...okay...I have been on the road forever...I have passed Alpine, Descanso, Pine Valley...did I miss the exit?...O thank goodness...there it is. I have actually seen the gas gauge move...yikes! Now I am supposed to take Buckman Springs to the 94. The 94 just past the railroad tracks...seriously these are my directions. Driving...driving...driving...pass the High School...driving...driving...driving...hhhmmm were the railroad tracks those first ones I went over??? The signs still say Campo is in my future. Driving...driving...driving...o no...it's never going to be the 94! I must have passed it...damn radio...am I still on Buckman Springs?? There's a street sign...yep...keep driving...pass the elementary school. Thank God I still have radio reception...driving...driving....Cameron Corners...yea the 94! OMG, it's like 3:45 now, crap. Keep driving...okay there is my connection...the one to follow the rest of the way...BTW the rest of the way was less than a block...no I couldn't have done THAT part alone...FINALLY the meeting destination. I see a "pit stop" in my future.

I will not bore you with the meeting details...but I will say this, "People you do not need to share so much personal info with someone you just met" or "Sorry about your constipation." Yes, truly this is not something you should discuss with a relative stranger. Thanks but no thanks.
OK...moving on (no pun intended). Time to leave, it is now 6:45pm and getting dark. I get to drive the whole thing in reverse. FUN!

I will be honest...the only thing on my mind is watching Chuck (I♥Chuck!) on NBC and eating dinner. Hungry, that would be me at this point. So, driving...driving...driving...driving...pretty much the same and uneventful except for the headlight induced blindness. Folks, please dim your lights at approaching cars...blind-on-a-curvy-country-road is never a good combo for any driver. Back on the freeway...this should be smooth sailing...Chuck here I come. I roll down my window...no A/C...gotta have fresh air...who cares about the hair, just going home, right?

Uh, not so fast sweetheart...the border patrol check point...all cars must stop...blah blah blah. Okay. I now realize that my mouth is dry, my eyes are dry (can't stop blinking) and my lips are dry...o how I love the Santa Ana winds. At this point all I can fix is the lips...apply chap stick. Okay, it's my turn to be waived through. Or so I thought.

Border Patrol Officer (or is it agent?): "Mumble Mumble Mumble?" (I am wearing my bluetooth...it is the LAW you know.)
Me: "Excuse me?"(blink blink blink)
BPO/A: "What is your country of origin?"
Me: "Oh, the United States."
BPO/A: "I need to see in your trunk."
Me: "Okay."(blink blink blink)
I turn off the engine. He looks at me, disappointed and tells me he wanted me to pull into the secondary area. Oops. "Sorry." Okay. So I restart the car and instead of shifting...I turn on the wipers. Stupid not my car..."Fuck, turn off...turn off!" Oops, that was out loud. Okay, now I am in the secondary area and the other... (kinda cute) BPO comes over and asks to look in my trunk. Again...I turn off the car.
BPO/A: "Don't you have a trunk pop button?"
Me: "Um, I don't think so and I don't see one."
I offer him the keys...he tells me he needs me to do it. I get out, as I am doing this he asks, "Is this your car?"
Me: "No, it's my brothers." (giggle, blink blink)
BPO/A: "Does he know you have it?"
Me:"Yes,"I giggle (I giggle and babble when I am nervous...not a good thing),"I had a meeting in Campo and his car has a radio and..." I am opening the trunk at this point...or should I say "trying"...this isn't looking good. At all. Why won't this stupid thing open...quietly-in-my-head,"Please God don't let there be anything weird in the trunk, like the machete."
BPO/A: "What kind of meeting?"
Me: "Weight Loss Corporation*, well I was working it. As a receptionist...there is also a leader and..."(nervous babble)...(blink blink)...
BPO/A: "I was going to say you don't look like you have a weight problem."
Me:"Thanks...I have lost 50+ pounds. You can only work if you have been through the program..." (blink blink) As I close trunk and head back to the car.
BPO/A: "Wow...that's great. I just started at 24HR Fitness."
These leads to a discussion about Weight Loss Corporation*. And then he asks if I have a card.
Me:"Well, um, no...but...I...have...let...me..." I start rooting around in my work bag...I got nothing people. SHIT. He excuses himself to search the trunk of someone else. Aha...I will just give him a paper with my contact info and our web address. I pull out my ginormous day planner and start scrawling the info (remember I want dinner and Chuck) and I hear some asshat honking their horn. WTF! What do they want me to do...out loud, "What's with the horn?!" I see Mr. BPO/A heading back towards me...O shit! The asshat with the horn is ME! My planner is leaning on it. Fuck! Okay. I tear out the paper and fold it (my six year old nephew could have done a better job, with the writing too). BPO/A comes back I hand him the paper...and I am free to go. I can't believe I am not sitting in the BP Office in cuffs...I would have hauled my ass in for some DRUG testing...crazy! As I drive away I realize I put everything on the paper but my name...DUMBASS!

I got home at 7:50 and I got to have dinner and watch Chuck, and it was great I must say. Then I looked in the mirror, red eyes and Nick Nolte mugshot hair...I am so lucky to be free.

*I am not printing the name of the Weight Loss program/company I work for, not because I am ashamed or feel that they aren't the best one out there. I just feel they probably don't want to be affiliated with such a nut job in print.

It's frickin soup!

2008-10-02T19:38:00.000-07:00

Okay, I do allow Krash certain people foods in minimal amounts, so I am accustomed to him "begging" on certain occasions. "Begging" for Krash is lying in/on my lap while I eat something he wants. Imagine my surprise today at lunch (Apple Butternut squash soup was on the menu...YUM!) when he almost put his nose in my bowl...not once, not twice, but three frickin' times...it's soup! What dog begs for soup...especially such a girly soup! Then when I politely told him to, "Beat it Hippie." He almost put his tail in my bowl. I think the dog might be hungry...? How about you?

Wet bed and skunky closet...why is that normal?

2008-10-02T12:14:00.000-07:00

We walk together several mornings a week...actually I follow behind as briskly as I can...just follow the tail...just follow the tail. These are enjoyable times...he can stop as often as he likes...if I slow down there had better be a damn good reason. Yesterday...we got a late start...8:30 am...I know, I know...how dare I. It was already in the low 80's...yuck. So with his usual style and grace...as soon as I unharness him at the front door...he beelines through the house, out the dog door and into his kiddie pool. (Did I mention I also mop several mornings a week?)

Krash knows the rules...if he chooses to follow them...well? Rule 1, always shake "outside, outside" when exiting the pool. Rule 2, rub on the towel (which is conveniently located on his wicker patio "love seat"). Rule 3, "paws" on the towel first when coming in through the dog door. Yesterday, we got two outta three...yippee! I should have know it was too good to be true. I came into my office/bedroom to check the work calender and emails...jogging dog nails on the hardwood floors...heading this way...bedsprings...?! A flop and big sigh....two hazel eyes shining brightly at me..."Hi Mommy!"

"Krash, are you still wet? Wet and on mommies bed?"

Evasive I-can't-hear-or-see-you maneuver.

"Krash?" Phone rings...dog lingers on bed. Phone call ends...dog retires himself to "his" closet...how do I know...because I can smell the faint wet-dog-skunk-odor over my right shoulder...big sigh...this time from me.

Phone rings again, I answer and I hear myself say, "My bed has a HUGE wet spot and there is a faint skunk odor emanating from my closet...all is right with my world."

When did this become the norm?

What NOT to wake up too or Don't mess with Black & White Kitties...

2008-10-01T22:43:00.000-07:00

It was Fathers day 2008, early around 2:15 am. I hear rustling in the bushes outside my bedroom window...then I hear chaos and growling and the sounds grow louder. Oh s*&t, what is he after now...I throw back the blankets to get up and at that exact moment it happens...I know what he is after! Why? What? How? you ask...because of the SMELL! Noooooooo! A skunk...the absolute horror of being a first responder to a spraying. I have smelled "sleeping" skunks on the roadways...people believe me...IT-IS-NOT-THE-SAME!!!! Of course ALL and I mean ALL the windows in the house were open...the smell was everywhere! This all occured in a matter of seconds...by time I registered skunk...Krash was barreling through the dog door with the worst expression on his face! Yuk! That putrid smell...he was wandering from room to room trying to get away from it. Finally...I took a deep breathe and said,"Dude, it's You! And it ain't going away." And it hasn't...he smells okay...but don't get him wet.

A few days after the spraying I bought him a stuffed skunk*, what's the first thing he did? Flip up it's tail and sniff! Lesson learned; I think not!

*Does this make me a bad parent?

How did we get here?

2008-10-01T22:13:00.001-07:00

Okay, so two years ago I decided to get a puppy...a really good-looking puppy. Then it happened...ka-bam...or should I say Krash! My life went upside down and I lost all authority in my home. He is your typical good-looking guy...he is referred to as Krash Zoolander; he gives a look and I give in. He keeps me laughing...most of the time. Unless shoes are involved...o the horror...o the shoes that paid with there soles. =( He wanted to dwell in the closet, he didn't express this, he just destroyed the shoes...until they were gone and moved right in...he is truly the monster in my closet.

Krash is also the source of serious-laugh-out-loud stories...that is what this is going to be about...some from the past, many from the future. It won't all be Krash...I do have an INSANE extended family...they will make there way here too I imagine. (They always seem to push their way in...!) I guess that's about it for the intro...feel free to stop by and spend some time...just remember...if Krash wants the couch...he gets it.