dear champ,
i am not a dog person…i never was…i fought getting an animal for the fifteen years that daddy and i have been married. then things changed….daddy got sick and had to have chemotherapy….”i really think that having a dog will help me get through chemo” he told me… and i believed him. and finally relented. and believe me, we did our research. we wanted a dog that was a good family pet, didn’t shed or drool (especially drool), was active and good with kids. but we couldn’t just go to the dog pound and pick up a mutt…oh no…we had to have a
vizsla because they met all of our criteria. do you think we could find one in michigan? nooooo…
we had to have you flown in from
IOWA…at our expense, and on july 2, 2005 we went to detroit metropolitan airport and picked you up. we never told anyone we were getting you. we simply brought you home one day and invited the family over for a fourth of july party. and you impressed everyone, especially your uncle randy, when you took a huge dump on the kitchen floor in the middle of the party…in front of everyone. yeah, that was quite an entrance. everyone was more astounded by the fact that
i, the dog hater, now had a dog. it has not been an easy ride with you. we got an active dog alright, you cried for 4 hours that first night with us. that was easily remedied though, we brought your crate into our bedroom the second night and things were much better, you slept through the night…you just didn’t want to be alone. we found out that vizsla’s are nicknamed “the velcro dog”. aptly named, let me tell you. they should also have nicknamed you “the chewing everything in sight for the first 8 months dog” and “the piddle on the floor every time I come home from work and pet you dog”. among other names. i forgive you for chewing up my shoes, austen’s toys, the molding on our wall and the legs of my beloved bentwood rocker (which I bought the year I graduated high school), and for ruining my carpeting. and for that time when you ate two sticks of butter, paper and all and vomited into the corner of our couch. we never did find that rotissiere chicken carcass, we assume that you ate it bones and all. but you were very good when daddy was sick, you would lay with him for hours when he didn’t feel good and sit at his feet (or on them) when he did feel good. but do you know what happened? you became my dog… the non-dog loving person in the house’s dog. and you are so protective of me, if daddy pats me on the behind, you just about attack him. (i kinda like that part). so, since we will have you for the next 10-15 years (or however long we let you live here) we need to get a few things straight and set a few ground rules:
1. you get dry dog food. I mix in the canned food as a courtesy to you, a special treat. It does not entitle you to suck the wet food off of the dry food and spit the dry food onto the floor around your bowl. Eat all of it, I’m tired of cleaning it off of the floor...and laying your head in my lap at dinner time will not get you any tidbits of food from the table…from me…daddy is another story.
2. sometimes I forget and leave my bedroom door open when I am changing. keep your nose out of my crotch and my butt. it’s cold. and wet. and that is just gross.
3. my underwear is my underwear, not your chew toy. that is just disgusting. stay out of the dirty laundry basket.
4. the same goes for austen’s and daddy’s socks and underwear. I have had to buy dozen’s of socks and underwear for them in the past few months. chew on you
r rubber bones.
5. for god’s sake, if you must put your face close to my face, do it
before you lick yourself for fifteen minutes. that is just sickening.
6. you are a hunting dog…a bird dog…a water dog. a little rain on your back when you have to go out to pee in the morning will not kill you. suck it up.
7. the same goes for snow, you act like I throw you into the vast wasteland of the siberian tundra. It’s not that bad.
8. quit eating the used kleenex and q-tips out of the wastebasket in the bathrooms. it’s repulsive. really repulsive.
9. stop jumping on nana, she hates it.
10. daddy will kill you for sure if you dig up any more of his perennials or rose bushes. he takes pride in his yard and garden, so be respectful of that.
11. bees, hornets and wasps sting…. you’d think you would have learned your lesson from the first time you got stung in the mouth.
12. i know you are a hunting dog, but turtles are off limits. they migrate from our pond to the pond across the street every spring. leave them alone…the neighborhood children are traumatized when they see one that you’ve chewed and dismembered. one of these days, you are going to try to sink your teeth into a snapping turtle. then you’ll see….
If you can follow these few rules, I think things will work out and we may keep you. If not…well…..
Love, mamma
this was austen's attempt at pumpkin carving this year. of course, he had to draw his face first before he cut. he wanted it to have a surprised look to it....well he surprised us, alright. he asked me to cut the eyes out because he could not go around in a circle. as i was doing that don was watching and started laughing...and laughing. i looked at him and he said "did you look at that pumpkin". when i glanced, i saw that marking and started laughing too. austen was blissfully unaware, {thank goodness}.
this is the final product with some help from mom to remove the offensive appendage from it's face...
this is a picture of our pumpkins this year. the one on the right, austen's and the one on the left, mine.
and this is our little ghoul this morning before school
