You just have to laugh...
Well, I didn't think today would be very eventful, as we didn't actually leave the house and had planned to just laze around all day. Oh...how wrong I was.
The fun started early this morning (and I mean EARLY) when I woke up at 6 am in the most unbelievable discomfort you can possibly imagine. I had finally gone to bed about 1:45, so needless to say I didn't enjoy the dawn as much as I usually do. I did wonder why I was so uncomfortable, initially attributing my aches and pains to an unfamiliar bed (and the crappy bed was indeed part of it, though not all), but then I happened to raise my head and see the anchor holding down my legs... and leaving me about 6 inches to sleep on.
No worries - I got up and made coffee and started the day, figuring I'd take a nap later on. I went out on the porch to get a start on my romance novels (quality reading, dontcha know) and Dora came out with, waking up Sir Homer from his slumber. She was raring to go bright and early this morning, and was already trying to start something while I was getting coffee. I heard all the noise in the kitchen, and once I had my coffee, went back out to see where they'd gotten the herd of elephants from that was apparently helping them play. I watched them for a minute or two, running like lunatics back and forth, back and forth, and then decided to record it for a bit on my new camera to test it out. DON'T YOU KNOW, Dora sees this as her opportunity to take it to the next level... she plays, she runs, she HUMPS HOMER. Oh, the disgrace! (That's my girl - show him who's boss!) I almost fell over, I was laughing so hard. I did wake up Mom, but the boys slept right through it. I actually managed to capture it on video, though I don't know if it will show...Download P8210029.AVI
Dora chilled out a bit after that, and proceeded to hog the couch on the back porch. At least I was awake this time for the crowding, so I could move to get comfortable. I have to tell you, I have been around snorers my whole life - my father can vibrate a glass off a table, my brother is loud and constant, and even my 5 year old nephew can hold his own. (Strangely, the women in my family don't snore unless they're sick - I wonder why not?) Dora puts them all to shame. As I write this, she is sprawled on the couch, feet hanging over the edge, sawing logs like a professional. I can hear her over Todd's Playstation game, and the cacophony of crickets outside, which given that there are approximately 7.29 million crickets in the yard, is saying something. I tried to capture it on video this morning, but I don't know whether the mic on the new camera is inferior or if the crickets are simply that loud.
THANK BABY JESUS that Homer does not snore - with all the sleeping that dog does, I might be tempted to put him out of our misery. (PS - no, he didn't stay awake long enough yesterday to finish the rawhide bone, though he made an eentsy bit more progress today.) I think at this point it even goes without saying what Homer's day was like, and I'm sure that no one will be surprised when it turns out that:
Early to Mid-Morning (Yes, I woke him up for the picture)
Late Morning to Early Afternoon (he is secure in his masculinity amongst the frou frou)
Late Afternoon to Early Evening (too much travel between nap spots!)
HA! I was just kidding about the too much travel between nap spots. What really tired him out today was peeing on the cast iron stove (THREE TIMES, DUDE? You were outside for like 12 hours!!!) and plotting with Dora to conduct a caper the likes of which nearly got both of them booted off the mountain.
It went down like this; Todd went with Lou to meet some friends of his for lunch that live here in West VA - and neither Mom nor I felt like cooking. We had some leftover chicken breast from dinner last night, fresh bread, sharp white cheddar cheese and mustard... DELICIOUS. I even had my ultra favorite snack, Baked Cheetos, in all their cheesy goodness. So, I get my bowl of cheesy snacks and set it out on the patio table next to my laptop, and go back in to make sandwiches. A few minutes later, I hear the bowl drop, and I trot out to the porch to find Homer licking his lips and eyeing the big strand of orange DROOL occupying the former residence of my cheetos. ARGH! Again, more fool I, since my old pups knew better than to go after food on a table, and I am perhaps giving Homer more credit that he has earned. Dora, at this point, is on the couch, working on her "Who, Me?" and her "No, you don't say!" looks.
So, cussing Homer out under my breath (those damn cheetos are like $4 a bag!) I return to the kitchen and make some delicious sandwiches. I give Mom hers, and put mine on the kitchen table in order to go get a Diet Coke from the fridge outside on the porch. (Seriously, who puts two dorm fridges in a cabin for 5 people in the boondocks?) All of sudden, I hear Mom shout "Homer, NO!" and I run back inside, to find one lonely little scrap of fresh bread and mustard sitting forlornly in the center of my suspiciously clean plate. I had ONE BITE, and it was so good. *sigh* As I'm giving Homer the evil eye, I hear Mom shout again "Dora, NO!", and I turn around to see Dora absconding to the porch with the remaining half of Mom's delicious sandwich firmly clenched in her teeth. They tag teamed us, and quite well, actually. SO, in the course of less than ten minutes, we lost a bowl full of cheetos, two delicious chicken and cheese sandwiches, and all ability to take these two miscreants in the least bit seriously. I almost felt like offering them a soda or some cookies to top it off.
On the upside, when I used the last of the chicken to make Mom and I another half sandwich each, I think both of them got the point of our hunched over postures, and neither tried to charm us out of any scraps. Of course, it could be because they were FULL!
The rest of the day was fairly low key - Dora is driving me crazy with her barking - she barks at passing cars, at people out on a stroll, at the owner's dog, at the moths trying to get in... you name it - she barks deafeningly loudly (right in your ear) at it.
She held an almost constant vigil at the window for much of the afternoon (and there were points when I thought she was going to through the screen, no matter that it's a good 15 foot drop) and barked at EVERYTHING that passed by.
She and I also spent a few hours today playing with her Wubba, and she can go for HOURS. Back and forth, back and forth. She can *almost* entertain herself, but not quite. I threw her toy for her about 3,476 times, and after the first twenty or so, Homer got up in disgust and went to lay down in the house. I did notice that I like this toy quite a bit - it was in her mouth for a good three hours and did not get all revoltingly slimy with drool. Yay for quality!
In any event, we went back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. I had a conference call tonight to do some work on a project that I will be starting as soon as I get back to DC, and bless her heart, Dora brought the Wubba right up to me and STOOD there squeaking like a maniac for a good three minutes. One of the guys on the call finally asked if I had a squeaky toy or if I was manhandling a rat terrier.
It didn't do any good on the call (which was over an hour long) to throw the toy, either, since then it just sounded like a (squeaky) herd of elephants galloping on hollow hardwood floors. She was very good (once I ignored her - HARD) about playing with herself, and the guys on the call were really cool about the strange noises coming from my location.
Of course, once my call was done, it was a whole different story. She is not a delicate wallflower that is shy about getting what she wants, and we played for a bit at her insistence. For me, though, there comes a time when enough is enough - and after about another 45 minutes (total play time today was probably 5-6 hours. How does she get the stamina, you ask? CHICKEN F*CKING SANDWICHES. WITH CHEESE.) She tried everything to get me to change my mind... play bowing with the little tail wag... a little whining with a little prancing... laying the Wubba gently in my lap and nudging my elbow with her nose... NOPE. I AM Cruella Deville, and no soup for you! Of course, when I leaned over to plug in my camera, I then discovered that though it is soft rubber and canvas, it DOES hurt like a bitch to have a Wubba dropped on your head. That didn't work either, and as a last ditch, all guns blazing effort, she busted out the "Hey Baby, Let's Play..." look, but I am IMMUNE.
NONONONONONONONO - we're going to park tomorrow - the big National park with rivers and picnics and sunshine and new smells and pedestrians and all kinds of fun things to chase, and I am NOT going to inadvertently nap for two hours like I did this afternoon because I am exhausted from playing "Chase the Wubba"!
I know. I am heartless. I am mean. Sucks, don't it?
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