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My cat Snoopy has always had a thing for boxes. When he was a tiny kitten, he could fit perfectly in the little shoebox that my Keds came in. However, he grew up into a big and super fluffy cat who couldn’t quite fit into those particular boxes anymore, but developed a penchant for the shirt/sweater boxes that are so prevalent at Christmas time…

After this past Christmas, he had no fewer than 3 boxes to choose from. However, cleanup must eventually happen and the 3 were culled to a single box. Which yes, is still sitting on the hearth of the fireplace, complete with red tissue paper. He still loves to cram himself into it - and tonight I noticed one of the pieces of tissue paper had managed to make its way across the room. So - given the choice between chucking out this piece of red tissue paper or carefully placing it back inside the sweater box in front of the fireplace, what to do?

Those with pets arleady know the answer. And Snoopy seems to be quite content with having the full complement of tissue paper back in his box this evening.

So, the dog is sitting out on the deck this morning, and I hear a voice from the yard say “Hi, doggie” - just the meter reader.

The dog? Jumps up! Looks at him! Runs inside and looks at me as if to say, “There is someone in my yard, make him go away!”

I feel so safe…

This was just too damn cute not to share - completely SFW.

Here, buddy, have a kleenex (You Tube video)

Link via Learn Something New Every Day

He wasn’t as miserable as he looked, I swear I did not throw him out in the backyard for a photo op.

Just for this, the patch of Leyland Cypresses aren’t going anywhere anytime soon - a hound needs a dry spot…

All I can say is that I really, REALLY hope that when Moxley goes out and starts chasing invisible squirrels at inappropriate times of the evening is that my neighbors can also hear me chasing after him trying to get him to shut the hell up and get back inside. I’m not the most experienced dog owner and I still can’t tell the difference between dog language of “I need to go out and hit the head” and “I want to go chase and bark at things that aren’t actually there.” The little cute-yet-obnoxious one is sitting at the back door yet again looking pathetic. Sorry bud, we’re not gonna anger the neighbors anymore than we may have already done. (However, I can tell you that there was another dog in the near vicinity outside at the same time, so it’s not only MY idiot dog chasing invisible animals in the middle of the night.)

And now for something completely different, and it really is, about a month ago I was introduced to a drink/shot/whatever - a Jagerbomb. Now, I’ve been offered Jagermeister shots before, and I can smell them from a mile away and I know better than to accept them. Fortunately, they have been sent in front of me by folks who were also more than willing to take them back and take care of them and substitute the drink of my choice. However, the Jagerbomb incident was one of those “you can’t turn it down” situations. So, I tried it. To be perfectly honest, I was thrilled that I got it down with no adverse effects. (For those wondering why I would accept a drink not even knowing for sure if it would end up in a contest for color and distance, well, it was just one of those things…I think we’ve all been there.)

What has surprised me is the fact that this particular indulgence has grown on me. It’s not something I’d have more than one of in a given evening if I could ever possibly avoid it, because in essence it is still a shot, despite the Red Bull addition, but there is something about it that makes me understand why these suckers are apparently quite popular. As far as the taste - it’s like Root Beer, slightly stale or fresh out of the bottle, depending on how it’s done. At my GD’s, they come pre-mixed, because they have no actual shot glasses… Something about they get broken (or possibly stolen) way too often, so they stopped buying new shot glasses and the bartenders just get to serve shots in regular glasses. Makes it difficult to do a drop & drink, but I didn’t know any different - and when they’re pre-mixed, they taste like Root Beer that is starting to go a tad on the flat side. The other evening, I had one at the after-hours bar (it’s not really “after hours”, but they’re open later than anyone in town, so…), and it was a “do it yourself” Jagerbomb. Feeling ever so slightly mortified at my lack of experience on the DIY side, I had to ask someone, “WTF do I do? Is it drop & drink or some ritual I’m not aware of?!” Nope, just d & d. Well, damn, now I get it. When you do a d & d on these, it’s like you’ve just cracked a cold bottle of Root Beer. That would explain the attraction to be sure.

So, the moral of the story is…wait, this is essentially about drinking, so OK, no real “moral” to it, cause well, the moral of that story would be “stick with coffee” or something along those lines, but I suppose it is “don’t be afraid to try something new and be prepared to not hate it.” If you’re ever offered a Jagerbomb and you like Root Beer, give it a go - it may surprise you. But stick with just one in an evening, cause I can see how this could get ugly very quickly.

*Jagermeister = a licorice liquor, somewhat similar to Sambuca, but a strange dark color, stronger smell and frankly, a little scary, especially considering that the bottle looks like a cough syrup remedy from pioneer days.
** Jagerbomb = Red Bull + shot of Jager dropped in it.

My brother has headed out of town for a couple of days, and the dog is not happy.

At the moment, the sweet hound is curled up and sulking in the back of his crate.

As soon as my brother moved in, Moxley became his dog. Sure, I’m good for dinner, biscuits, & dropping food on the kitchen floor, but I am definitely not the boy. I think it has something to do with the fact that I (try to) make him behave, I’m the one that is always dragging him to the vet or the groomers, and in short, I’m not nearly as much fun. :)

Surprisingly, last night he slept upstairs with me, which is very unusual for him anymore - he’s either on the couch or down with my brother - I wonder if his little doggy brain is somehow thinking that he chased off the boy cause he slept upstairs.

And being a dog, he’s got that guilt trip thing completely mastered. For the next 3 days I’ll feel bad every time I leave the house.

He’s such a good dog, I always feel bad when he’s not his super-happy self.

It’s cold, there are high winds, which of course means the dog is outside and refusing to come in. I’m quite sure the neighbors think we’re abusing him. I hope they can at least hear our cries of, “Dumbass, get inside already!”

My final paper is just over 1/3 complete as far as word count goes. Not bad considering that the actual writing portion only started this morning. Granted, this is on top of a couple weeks of research, reading and fairly extensive note taking, so I suppose it’s not as impressive (or completely last minute) as it sounds.

So, is it a bad sign when the gentleman repairing your dishwasher has it taken apart in the kitchen and just looks up at you and says, “Can I just go home now??”

Yes, 3 AM is when some critter decided to advertise it’s presence in the backyard last night.

Moxley decided that he MUST inform me of this. LOUDLY.

God, I wish that dog didn’t like sleeping in the living room.

Note to self: Turn the damn alarm clock OFF on days I don’t have to get up at a set time. Hitting the snooze button just makes me sleep even later.

Trying to figure out what I need to do today besides picking up a prescription & getting the townhouse ready for the painters - I feel like I’m forgetting something. Maybe it’s cause I have a whole slew of phone calls I have to make, but I can’t do anything until tomorrow on those.

Oh, and minor note to whoever does the guides for TiVo - AHQA competitions are very cool, but it is not “Horse Racing”.

Oh, did I mention that I don’t seem to have a dog anymore? Well, Moxley still lives here, but he has definitely made himself ’s dog. He’s discovered that there is a bed in the basement, and has put down floor runners so the dog doesn’t have to slide on the concrete to get there (spoiled much?), as well as finding the step-up made for our old dog that had arthritis so it’s easier for Mox to get on the bed (he doesn’t have arthritis or anything, we’re just suckers.) They’re down there watching football right now. Sure, I’m good for food, biscuits and the occasional tummy-scratching, but that’s about it.

Feeling a little less “I hate the world and everyone can DIAF” today. Just despise those times in life where it seems that there isn’t anything more to it than a string of bad jobs, bad relationships and then you die.

The beach was a blast. Didn’t catch but one bluefish, but the fishing was a ton of fun, went kayaking in the sound yesterday and that was awesome, too. Rolled in about 2 AM and went straight to the beach - near full moon + high tide = night fishing. Gotta say, surfcasting is very different from bass fishing, but I definitely loved it.

The dog LOVED the beach and was super well behaved. However, he now has a new list of things he is not allowed to eat, including but not limited to:
Lizards
Sand fleas (real or lures)
Bluefish (fresh caught or cut for bait)
Bloodline Ahi Tuna, even if it IS just being used for bait
Sand crabs
Various unidentifiable gunk on the beach.

This is mainly for the benefit of , as he’s the one that got Mox his new frisbee. He’s not real good at giving it back, though… (It’s 2:26 long, so don’t feel like you have to watch the whole thing!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zJHVVwg5eU

Poor dog just walked in and looked at me and I swear his face says “WTF, it is DARK out, why is it still hot?!”

Yes, it’s midnight and 86 with a heat index of 96.

So, I got “report cards” on the critters for their stay at the kennel. I was thrilled that they apparently behaved quite well. Mox’s comments were glowing, and I expected no less of him. He apparently also enjoyed going up to the cattery to visit his pals. (Yes, they took the dog up to visit with his buddies. Very cool in my book.)

The cats, I expected something along the lines of “they are moody, cranky, standoffish beasts.” Instead, I got:

Snoopy & Target are both very sweet & loveable. They enjoy coming out of their suite to enjoy the cattery and visit with the other cats. They also like to look out the windows & sit in the sun.

Color me shocked. (Well, not the sit in the sun part.) Yep, they apparently actually hung out with the other cats and were sweet and social. The gal that brought them down when I picked them up said they loved to come out and follow her around and see what she was doing when she was in the cattery.

And happily, I have not caught any grief from any of them since I’ve been home.

ETA: Mox is also enjoying his river otter stuffed animal from the NC Aquarium, and we’re still working on the concept of his new frisbee.

Cheeto?? Please? (He’d found a stray one a few minutes early and was hoping against hope that I had been the one to drop it and would have more for him.)

Sunrise this morning:

Didn’t realize when I took the pic that he had already shuffled off this mortal coil, otherwise I would have picked him up and gotten him back to the water:

Yeah, kinda obsessed with the pelicans, but they’re so cool to watch fly by.

Random Surfer

Just liked the way these two came out.

The fox that lives in the scrub next to the house:

Note to self: Ask how long the work will take before dropping off the car so you are not surprised when they say four hours. (Which I shouldn’t have been anyway.) But hey, it’s worth it, I’ll have a car in proper alignment and passing inspection.

I love how when I call my ISP they tell me I can check system status online. Chances are if I am calling, it’s because I can’t get online.

I have a small birdbath on the back deck to replace the “plastic table birdbath” that was created one day when a storm flipped it over. The new birdbath is just an oversized shallow pasta plate that seemed to be perfect and easy to keep clean, etc. I have yet to see a bird venture near the damn thing. Little flying ingrates.

The dog, who was soooo not happy with my packing up on Saturday morning, apparently got over it. It took him at least 5 minutes yesterday when I got back in before he noticed I was even back, and I got an “Oh, HI! Were you gone?!” greeting…

Colonial Beach is truly the land that time forgot. If you ever want to get away from pretty much everything for a couple days, this is a good place for it. My motel door had an actual real metal key.

Floyd Landis now qualifies as tough in my eyes. He’s getting his hip replaced after the Tour de France, and isn’t taking any pain medication in the meantime. I get a hangnail and it’s “Where is the advil and wine?!”

I seem to have introduced crack into the cats diet. Last week I picked up some different cat treats (on sale and they were out of the ones I usually get) and now each time I walk in the kitchen, I have two felines demanding a fix… Beware of Friskies salmon & shrimp treats.

Murphy’s law being what it is, the cleaning ladies arrived at 6. There is an exceptionally disturbing amount of crashing and banging going on upstairs as they are getting things done, so it’s probably a good thing that a) this is their last visit and b) I am usually not here when they do the work. I find it to be completely unnerving - though nothing has ever been broken, it always sounds like they’re taking out one of the walls when they’re working. Everything on my nightstands also gets rearranged, but that I can deal with - except when I can’t find something, but things always turn up eventually.

I got out and ran this afternoon and unfortunately have yet to be able to get a shower in cause I didn’t particularly want to be IN the shower when they arrived… I’m half tempted to just say, “Nice job, go home” so I can get myself cleaned up…

That pause you may not have detected was my having to move my bed since the dog got stuck behind it while hiding from the vacuum cleaner. He likes the cleaning ladies just fine, he sees the vacuum and he’s gone. And I can’t put him in the backyard right now because the lawn guys have arrived as well.

OK, the cleaning ladies have taken off (I retreated to the bedroom and have stuck with the dog) so I think it’s safe to go back downstairs without fear of getting squirted with windex or run over by the vac.

Moxley, Snoopy & Target all have kennel reservations for the beach trip.

*whew*

It’s gonna cost an arm and a leg, but it’s a VERY good place so I don’t care. Old Towne Pet Resort. Moxley’s “suite” is 5′x6′ (should be roomy enough for a 30 lb dog), he gets 3 walks a day, one play session, 2 meals and a snack, plus a mandatory bath cause he’s there more than 3 days. (Fine by me!)

Snoopy & Target will share a suite (25% discount on the second cat), with 2 meals a day, snack and a play session.

In addition, here are some of the other things you can get for your pets (yes, they play well into pet owner guilt)
– Grooming
– Pool sessions for dogs
– Canine massage
– TLC time (quiet one on one cuddle sessions)
– Limo service (they’ll come and pick up your pet)
– Personal Shopping Allowance - set a price limit and they’ll take your critter through the gift shop to pick out toys.
– Photos of your pet at play
– TV’s and Webcams in some suites

So, lets say you’re a cat, and you’ve got a potential UTI/blockage going on… When do you decide to show symptoms, especially since something like this can lead to being very very sick, or even dead?

A) 11 AM on a Saturday when the regular vet is open?
B) 11 PM Sunday night of a holiday weekend?

Of course, the answer is B! So, off to the 24 hour vet. Of course, couldn’t get a firm diagnosis, cause he took a leak in the crate on the way over so there wasn’t anything for them to test. However, they did confirm no blockage (that was the biggest concern) and we’ve got 10 days of preventative meds just in case, and I didn’t have to leave him overnight.

As much as I worry about my four legged charges, I can’t imagine how people with children don’t have a full on meltdown.

Target’s (see icon) favorite game of all time has always been the “prove to me you love me” game, in which he would place himself somewhere in the house where he could see me, yet I couldn’t see him. He’ll wait until I am good and spun up before announcing his presence. Also, if he’s feeling punky, he’ll skip a meal. Not good and NOT normal - if I can at least *find* him, I am willing to wait until the next chow time to see if he’s interested before I panic. If I can’t find him at all, well, I’ll admit, I start worrying.

Little over a year ago, dumbass ate dishwasher detergent (foil packet sample that he mistook for a Pounce package - I can see how he made the mistake) - had an upset stomach for a couple days, and several days of meds before the packet was found w/mulitple kitty tooth punctures in it… I left a voice mail for my vet, who called me back on a Saturday night and agreed, yeah, that would probably put him off his feed… So, I’m a touch paranoid when he doesn’t eat - either he’s actually sick or ate something he shouldn’t.

Couple months ago we went through a breakfast disappearance. I searched high and low and literally 30 seconds before I had to leave the house to get to work, he appeared in the kitchen out of nowhere, looking for food. Never figured out where he was.

Breakfast skippage again this morning… Couldn’t find him before I left. Left anyway, feeling incredibly guilty, but consoled myself with the fact that at least I’d be back early afternoon. Came home, he’s not waiting in the kitchen. Cue multiple swear words here. I search again. AND FIND HIS HIDEY HOLE! One of the guest rooms has a little wooden table w/a tablecloth that hits the floor. Yup, perfect for a kitty. He’s not so interested in leaving, so I leave him be for a while and not too long after that he’s down for food, and then back to the hidey hole. Not good. I hate it when he does this to me. Then a couple hours ago he shows up in the office, ready for lap time. The rest of the evening he’s been his usual self - he’s actually lounging right behind me right now.

Dammit, why does he like to drive me up a wall like that?