Is Mother Nature a little extra these days, or is it just winter? It’s winter!
If you’re watching the news in the morning as I do, you might think that this is something new for the East Coast in January.
Over the weekend, the media pushed the ICE fear any chance they got. Beware of untreated sidewalks. Freezing rain. Treacherous road conditions. Ice, ice baby.
This tragedy was to occur early Sunday morning. Now, I could care less if I don’t have anywhere to go, but my furballs, a/k/a Peanut & Landie, have to go somewhere to go, if you know what I mean.
As the best dog mother in the world, I set the alarm for 5:00 a.m. to get them out to do their biz before the ice age began.
My bougie fur babies enjoy the comforts of my king-sized bed and down comforter. They’re for the sheets, not the streets.
Peanut & Landie
Living Their Best Life
So, waking them from their lap of luxury to head into the dark artic air is a big freaking deal. It’s even bigger when you have to add coats, collars, leashes, and sidewalks loaded with rock salt.
In the end, it would all be worth it. We’ll be able to cuddle on the couch, knowing we dodged a potential broken back slipping as I tried to wrangle two little fur babies on an ice rink.
I thought ahead. I prepared for the worst. Only to have Mother Nature throw a curveball that ended with a forecast of “It will be warm and sunny unless it’s an ice age.”
If nothing else, this was a reminder that you can have all your ducks in a row, or your ducks can be running wild; we’re not in charge, so do your best and Enjoy the Ride!
Today I’m sitting in my sunless sunroom on day number who the hell knows of Stay In Your Damn House life here in Philadelphia.What’s a girl to do?
I’ve been pondering about ALL of this extra time I have on my hands, the time I must say I have longed for over the years. On more than one occasion, I’ve said, “If I were locked in this house, I would scrub it from top to bottom.” Oh, the lies I tell.
The problem seems to be the lack of clarity in my intention. I should have said, “If I were locked in this house, BY MY OWN FREE WILL, WITHOUT WORRYING ABOUT THE HEALTH AND WELLBEING OF MY LOVED ONES AND THE WORLD, THE FEAR OF FINANCIAL DEMISE AND LACK OF TOILET PAPER, I would scrub this house from top to bottom. It’s all about the presentation, folks.
So, what has been going on over here at my abode you ask, not scrubbing, that’s for sure. There has been some puzzle building, which started with enthusiastic joy and ended with the equivalent to a quarantined cage fight. I’m still not sure when it turned into a competition.
I started puzzle #3 on my own. It contains 1,000 mind-boggling pieces that, in the end, will resemble all sorts of dog breeds, including a bio. Dachsund: Loves to Play and Act Comically, Also Makes an Alert Watchdog. I think this guy is ready for Match.com.
Last night I spent a good hour looking for the legs of an Irish Setter. This is now my new gauge on time. Do you have time? Yes, but not enough to waste looking for Irish Setter legs.
Let’s see, there have been limited, but necessary trips to the supermarket. I knew when the parking lot looked like a trauma center with used gloves and masks on the ground; I was about to appreciate this social distancing thing even more. I’m starting to believe the first symptom of this virus is the loss of all common sense.
Oh, how could I forget my introduction to the use of Zoom? For those of you who aren’t familiar, it’s a way to communicate through video chat. It’s been a real silver lining through all of this distancing. It’s also been a REALLY BIG eyeopener to my gray roots and Groucho Marx eyebrows!
Honestly, my favorite part of using Zoom is watching my placement in the conversation. During my last conference, I held the spot of Mrs. Brady for a good 15 minutes! This is where I’m at people, this is where I’m at.
Do not mistake my sarcastic storytelling for lack of empathy during these uncertain times. Sarcasm is my protective shield, and lord knows it has seen better days.
Enjoy the Ride! 6 feet apart until further notice. PLEASE!
The Fur Balls!
Leading up to our vacation the concern was growing about the fur babies and their reaction to everything salty & sandy.
Peanut sat on my lap shaking like a leaf for the 2-hour drive. The poor little guy did not know what the heck was happening, other than his toys and bed were going with him. The last time this happened his previous owners left him at our house and never came back. Can dogs have PTSD? Yes.
Landon, on the other hand, slept like a husband, occasionally opening his eyes to check on his surroundings. Oh, it must be nice to be Landon.
Ocean City, NJ does not allow dogs on the beach during the regular season, however, the dog-loving beachfront homeowners paying a zillion dollars in taxes say “Oh please, just tell me to get off.” Gotta love the rule breakers who welcomed our pups to their protest.
Peanut & Landon LOVED the beach during the very early morning and late evening as much as we did. I think they sensed the peace.
Peanut channeled his inner mountain lion while climbing the dunes, and Landon played tag with the waves. Sandy paws are happy paws.
It’s strange, but I swear dog owners have some sort of magnetic force that attracts them to other dog owners.
Look who I met on my way to the way to the beach. Shhh … Peanut & Landon do not know about my Summer Fling.
Ladies and gentleman, meet Lucy. Could a name be more perfect?
This little-redheaded beauty is a 12-week old Cavapoo. Cavalier King Charles Spaniel crossbred with a Poodle a/k/a freaking adorable.
Her owners picked her up in Rochester, NY on Friday and drove her straight to their Summer home on the beach. Sadly, I only received a blank stare when I asked if they would consider rescuing a middle-aged woman.
I had the pleasure of seeing Lucy every day. We mainly discussed how the salt air was not friendly to our hair. You know, girl talk.
Ok, back to the fur boys that stole my heart. Spoiled is an understatement.
Here they are sitting outside of the ice cream parlor waiting for their order. Vanilla soft serve is their favorite.
They definitely received the memo about ice cream not having calories at the shore.
They went for walks.
Ate ice cream more than once.
Ran on the beach.
Went to the Chatterbox, a dog-friendly restaurant in town.
Enjoyed the beautiful sea breeze on the deck every night.
They were surrounded by all the humans they love unconditionally for 7 solid days.
“They’re on vacation” was the justification for all of the extra spoiling.
Seems like they’re on vacation every damn day while their home, but who am I to judge.
Surround yourselves with those you LOVE and Enjoy the Ride!
Just a little update to let the world know that yes, Peanut and Landon have been accepted to Camp Bow Wow! I know, I’m still in awe at their success.
As you can see during their interview they clearly nailed it. Just look at those wagging tails working the room like they own the damn place.
I was able to witness everything through my Camp Cam App. I think I missed my calling. The level of enjoyment I received stalking my dogs was alarming at best. Surveillance engineer or stalker … that line is very thin.
After some initial formalities of the meet and greet portion of their interview, Peanut & Landon were taken to socialize with the other members. I’ll assume this is where business cards and bones were exchanged.
I know what you’re thinking, “everyone gets in Lisa, it’s a game.” I’m not going to lie, this did cross my mind. Part of me thought I was being forced to jump through hoops in order to make me believe my fur babies were extra special, but then I witnessed Bella, the 6-pound chihuahua mix shaking like a leaf in her Burberry knockoff coat as her owner told her “you flunked” while he was handed her rejection notice. Oh yea, right in front of us.
For the record, Bella seemed quite pleased with this outcome, however, her owner was now forced to continue making Martinis for her all day. I’m guessing she likes them dirty at night.
It was all good at the end of the day. Peanut proudly received his acceptance notification as he posed for the camera, knowing full well this beauty would be on display for the world to see on the refrigerator a/k/a … the box of honor.
Landon on the other hand …….
Something tells us he was “accepted” because siblings are an automatic admission.
It doesn’t matter if you’re shaking like Bella, smiling like Peanut or winging it like Landon just make sure you … Enjoy the Ride!
Whether you believe in reincarnation or not I’m sure there has been a moment in your life when you thought “wow, I would love to come back as _________.” I have on more than one occasion.
I always imagined coming back as an animal, well, because they are just so much better people. Nothing but unconditional love.
I’m thinking something domesticated, nothing that prowls around in the jungle. That life seems a little tense.
Honestly, I’m not into looking over my shoulder on a daily basis because of a big bad co-animal looking for a snack or some bored rich guy looking for a new rug … OH HELL TO THE NO!
Being a bird might be cool, but I’m not a big fan of heights, or a world where clean windows are potential death traps. Although leaving my mark on the windshields of the world while laughing from a nearby tree does sound inviting. Hmm … maybe.
Then I thought perhaps I could be a peacock, a flamingo or one of those other birds that have wings just for show. Everyone admires them for their good looks and pities them for their inability to fly. Hmm, sounds like the Kim K of the bird world … no thanks.
Looks like I’m a house pet kind of girl, however, I want to be placed in a house with someone who loves their pets like I do. Yes, I’m being selective.
Even though I’m deathly allergic to cats, I must say I LOVE their cattitudes. Recently I witnessed a cat walking across a 4 lane road, looking straight ahead as we all screeched, swerved and skidded to avoid killing him. ZERO folks … Z E R O ef’s were given!
He was so badass! He marched up a nearby lawn without even turning to inquire what all the ruckus was about. He already knew people, he already knew.
If I had the pleasure of coming back as a cat, I would insist on being Kate’s cat. Kate, over at Views and Mews, is the Carol Brady of cat moms. She’s purrfect!
I already picked out my parents if I’m lucky enough to come back as a dog. I want gay parents. Like Cam & Mitchel from Modern Family.
I met Richard and Robert when I took Peanut & Landon to the Vet. They were dropping off their daughter dog Bette. I’m 100% certain she is named after Bette Davis.
Bette had luggage including a monogrammed tote that read “The girl that owns this bag has been untouched, she is an original sexy beast.” I was very close to asking if they would consider rescuing a middle-aged woman.
As I sat green with envy, watching Bette sitting next to her tote as if she knew the routine. First the endless kisses. Then the hugs. Next, the reassurance she’ll have a fabulous getaway as she was swept off her paws by the young attendant, and carried to her suite. It was love at first sight for me.
Enjoy the Ride!
All morning I pondered on the question:
At what point did my life turn from waking up on a Saturday morning wondering what exactly did I do last night, to waking up thinking what container am I going to use for a fecal sample? Who am I …. really now?
No doubt there have been thousands of questionable comparisons over the years, but this was literally my first thought of the day. Life is too short people!
The longer I stayed in bed contemplating container options, the weirder it got.
You see, the fecal matter in question was being collected on behalf of my fur balls. That’s right ladies & gents, then I had to transport it, along with the fur balls, to the Vet for examination. Why?
Well, because I recently applied, yes APPLIED, for them to attend a Doggie Daycare and I need to provide evidence that they are indeed the healthy canines I claimed they were on their application. Because applying for colleges wasn’t stressful enough.
This all started because of some upcoming events that will leave my little lumps of love alone for a long stretch of time, and because we are wonderful parents we made the decision to investigate some options that would allow our little guys some outside loving hands and play time while we’re gone. Yes, we are still talking about pets.
After conversations with other pet owners, and the review of endless online accolades, we decided to give Camp Bow Wow the opportunity to care for Peanut & Landon in our absence. Not quite that easy.
My initial inquiry prompted an email with instructions that are equivalent to completing a FASFA application x’s 2. I have a new respect for parents of twins.
Aside from providing normal information such as an emergency contact, I was also required to describe how my guys interact with large dogs, people and disclose if they have ever been exposed to a group of 8 or more dogs. According to my responses I have successfully raised 2 sheltered homeschooled dogs.
Seriously, you do not realize how weird you are with your pets until you see things like “Peanut a/k/a “P” loves people, other animals, and children. He is an all around social butterfly wherever he goes” in your own handwriting.
After submitting the applications, along with their clean bills of health, I was able to schedule their interview. Yes, you did read that correctly …. INTERVIEW.
They are to report to Camp Bow Wow on Friday at 11:00 a.m. where they will be observed for 3 hours while I wait to hear if they’ve been accepted. Maybe there’s a bar nearby …
Personally, Camp Bow Wow should be honored to have my fur babies paws gracing their facility, but that’s the mother in me talking. Meanwhile, I’ll be scheduling an appointment with the Groomer so they look dapper for their big day.
Enjoy the Ride!
Today in Philadelphia we are dealing with some nasty weather conditions. Winter has arrived shutting everything down for the day. Yesterday it was shorts, t-shirts and record breaking temperatures, but that’s none of my business Mother Nature.
My luv bugs Peanut and Landon, who are on the same schedule, seem to have some “issues” with Mother Nature’s latest mood swing. They are no doubt the Felix & Oscar of the canine world.
Peanut and Landon are what we like to call a “low riders.” They have short legs.
We have discovered that Peanut does not care that he is built like Danny DeVito. He struts through puddles, snow drifts, and high grass as if he is working the runway. Wet belly, snow balls stuck to his undercarriage like a canine Swifter without one single care in the world given.
In fact, Pee Wee has been channeling his inner Husky since day one. That’s right ladies and gentlemen, he can’t wait to hit the snow. He avoids all shoveled areas, leaves his coat in the house and intentionally climbs to the top of snow piles to gracefully leave a pile of his own. Shhh! He doesn’t know we pick it up.
Then we have Landon, who is also a low rider and owns it. He has zero interest in the snow or any other weather that does not include sunbeams with perfect temperatures. High maintenance is an understatement.
Landy Dandy does not have it easy when bad weather hits our area. Nope, not one bit. Unless you consider being CARRIED over puddles and patches of snow a hardship.
Landon, the Rosa Parks of canines, REFUSES to go out in the elements for any reason whatsoever. It’s a flat, solid … NO! He doesn’t even consider conforming to the masses. (ME)
So, while my neighbors are enjoying Netflix binges on this snowy day, I will be spending a good amount of my time freezing in my yard as I coax a dog to pee, and blow drying snow balls off of a husky wanna be.
Enjoy the Ride …. even when it’s slippery!
On Thursday I had to take the fur babies to the Vet for a dental procedure. Easier said than done friends.
The hardest part was leaving them there for the day. The fact that they were being held, while listening to how cute they were as they were kissed on the head made it easier … for them, not me.
The procedure is equivalent to human routine cleaning. Except dogs are knocked out cold.
My luv bugs had no pressing issues other than having breath with the scent of Satan’s anus due to tartar and plaque buildup. A mint will not help breath once it reaches the Satan anus level.
The tech informed me that I should be getting a call on their status after lunch. When 12:01 came and went my concern started. I waited until 2:30 before making the call to check on their status. A lifetime … it was a lifetime.
At that time I was told Landon was still being treated, Peanut was waking up nicely with a “beautiful smile” and the doctor would call when all was done. Perfect!
When the doctor called she was very kind. She informed me that no teeth needed to be
extracted, but that Landon had a “crooked canine tooth” that could give him trouble in the future. If she said he needed braces it would have sounded completely normal coming out her mouth.
Fast forward to 7 pm when we went to pick them up.
This is when I started to think we might be a little crazy. We were discussing looking forward to seeing their excitement. Somewhere in between packing their coats and leaving the car running so they wouldn’t be cold.
The thought of them being high as kites never really crossed our minds. Peanut came out crying like the drama king he is and Landon stared at nothing with a little smirk. They were officially the crying drunk and that one guy who went too far at the party.
While all this was going on in the waiting room the receptionist presented the bill. I’m pretty sure it was brought to the desk with a forklift, but we were too busy with our high dogs to notice.
All I do know is that when these luv bugs smile I need to see a SOLID GOLD GRILL.
That evening the messages of concern from friends were blowing up my phone. Inquiring if they were in any pain. Wondering if they were “ok”. Pet people flock together.
The responses are as follows:
Landon is happily staring at nothing. Loving every second.
Peanut is being held like a baby. Milking every second.
My wallet is the only thing in any sort of pain. It’s still shivering in the corner.
They are being waited on by their two human roommates. Being hand fed scrambled eggs.
As we approach Oscar season, please look for Peanut’s name on the list of actors being considered for the ultra dramatic role as “dog who had his teeth cleaned.” This little guy has put Bette Davis to SHAME over the past few days.
Sport your smiles and Enjoy the Ride!
Spring has sprung here in Philly, with a side of Summer.
Oh, there is chatter about “it” not being over, but “it” doesn’t matter once the thermometer reaches 80. Tootles Old Man Winter, until we meet again.
I’ve put together a little photo essay for the turn of seasons, even though it’s not official for a few more weeks.
First up …. Squirrels
Meet Sebastien a/k/a the nemesis to my two little innocent fur angels.
Sebastian L O V E S to just sit, stare and mock from the comforts of my deck furniture.
Yesterday, as Landon was barking his face off, Sebastien was enjoying a croissant on my swing. A croissant?
When I catch him in his beret smoking a cigarette and demanding a refill, I’ll be sure to share that photo. Where the hell did he get that croissant?
Everything is getting greener, with a splash of pink, purple & yellow of course.
You can always depend on the Crocus’s to arrive early to the party with a little hope in tow. They are certainly survivors and they never disappoint. I think they might be my spirit flower ….
These perfect beauties were posted to FaceBook by my friend. Feel free to smile.
I’ll just be over hear scratching my eyes and blowing my nose. Allergies…the dark side of Spring.
Oh yes, it’s true. While wildlife in my yard has been handing out cigars like the Duggars, my little Pee-Wee (Peanut) that has fallen hard right here in the house.
It’s Dogs Gone Wild over here at LWTTD!
Peanut suddenly started taking trips upstairs. He prefers to be carried like the King he is, so that raised a brow. Peanut sauntered down with a little swagger in his step. The only thing missing was the silk robe, cigarette & martini.
Like the good mother I am, I stalked his next trip. Sure enough, I caught him shacking up with a stuffed Lady Bug. Mother’s intuition is rarely wrong.
What I did not expect was the all out orgy I witnessed with the Lady Bug, Phillie Phanatic and the Scholar Owl. Or the fact that I yelled, “what are you doing?!”
Is this my life now? Hiding stuffed animals before I leave the house … apparently it is.
Peanut the poker-faced PLAYHA.
Honestly, the best part about this glorious weather has been open windows and sunbeams, just ask Landon.
Looks like today will be another beauty … Enjoy the Ride!
I’ve done several studies over the years, not that they find their way to a medical journal or get me a Nobel prize nomination, but I track certain things that raise an eyebrow because I feel like it. Interesting indeed I know.
My first study started several years ago when I read that the weakest part of a person born under the sign of Pisces, like me, is their feet. Why is that Lisa? Well, because the symbol for a Pisces is two fish and as we all know fish do not have feet. If you did not know that, please move along.
Since I just happen to work for a Podiatrist I started to take note on how many patients are born under the sign of Pisces. The answer is … a lot. I won’t bore you with graphs and charts because I don’t like being bored and they don’t exist.
Another study I’ve been working on is calculating the number of people who have Diabetes and Hypertension, again the answer is … a lot. Notice I keep my data very simple.
My latest investigation of sorts pertains to my two little love bugs Peanut and Landon. It never occurred to me until we got Landon, that Peanut is either gay, highly metrosexual or something else. As if I have all the time in the world.
These two are the Felix and Oscar of the canine world. Peanut always the serious rule follower and Landon, well he is just Landon.
DATA COMPILED TO DATE:
Peanut, when the slightest bit of dirt is on his paws, he walks directly into the shower stall and demands we cleanse the filth while Landon is under the impression that dirt builds character.
Peanut will then stand on a floor towel like cement until I get the blow dryer out to properly dry his feet and Landon is already out the door running in circles at 90 mph for a more natural approach.
My little Pee Wee also has a serious sense of fashion. Call me crazy, but it is true. This little guy loves to look dapper. While he enjoys sporting an occasional bow tie with his collar, his signature look is the turned-up collar of his coat. He hides behind the chair if I choose a less fashionable piece from his wardrobe.
As for Landon, he wears a coat out of necessity since he is the size of a snowflake and would most likely become popsicle if he weren’t wearing something to keep him warm, he opts for whatever we put on him.
Where do we even begin? Peanut waits patiently then walks quietly into the room to approach his bowl while Landon repeatedly checks on the status of his order and resembles a Mexican jumping bean until I put the bowl down.
Peanut is very selective in this department. Oh, he isn’t going to sniff any ole ass no sirree, they must be the right size, shape and color. Peanut has very high standards in this department.
Meanwhile, Landon is all over the first piece of fur that crosses his path. No need for names or numbers, if there is tail … he is all about that ass.
Dear Lord …
It occurred to me during the proofreading portion of this post, that Peanut is not gay or metrosexual, he has taken on the characteristics of MY HUSBAND. I feel another study coming on …
Do you realize what that means? I am Landon! A low maintenance social butterfly, who has been known to jump for food. I’m dying right now!
Life certainly is a trip … Enjoy the Ride!