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german shorthaired pointer

Pupcakes!

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Pupcakes!

Today is Vonnegut’s first birthday!

Vonny's First Birthday (1).png

 I’ve been talking about my baby boy’s birthday this week and am convinced a couple people at work think I have a skin kid. After all, I mentioned that I needed to make treats to bring to daycare, so what else would one assume?

 Let the charade continue!

 Vonny loves being my sous chef, so he did help me bake mini peanut butter cupcakes, or pupcakes, last night. Joey and he were so excited about the taste test, this may surpass the Peanut Butter Shorthairs for favorite homemade treat.

 I saved a couple pupcakes for home, but arranged the rest in a cake pan and wrapped it up to bring to the Hydrant Club.

 And it the way that parents with skin kids often do, I dealt with a flurry of activity getting us out the door on time this morning. After gym, walks, breakfast, and getting ready for work, it was time to load the van and go. I gotta tell you, with a work bag, lunch, bag, two leashed dogs, and a pan full of pupcakes, there was some strategy in getting loading.

 Being the genius I am, I brought out my bags and the pupcakes first, placing the pupcakes on the roof of the van, above my door so I’d be sure and see them when I hopped in. Putting the pupcakes in, then letting the dogs in, and walking around to my side seemed too tempting and I didn’t want the pupcakes gone in 15 seconds.

 I ran back inside, grabbed the doggos, and got them situated in the van. Now, the gas light was on, so I needed to make sure I had my Costco card and could stop for gas quickly after dropping the kids off.

 As we were backing out of the garage, the neighbor with the Husky was walking by, so everyone needed to do looks out the window and good morning barks.

 We cruised out the back gate and interestingly enough, it was about 15 seconds later that I realized the pupcakes were not in the van.

 INNER THOUGHT AS HEART RACED: “I RUINED VONNEGUT’S BIRTHDAY.”

 SIMULTANEOUS THOUGHT AS HEART RACED: “I DID NOT SEE OR HEAR PUPCAKES FLYING ACROSS OAKEY BOULEVARD.”

SIMULTANEOUS THOUGHT AS HEART RACED: “PUPCAKES WOULD BE LESS WEIRD FOR RANDOMS TO FIND THAN THE FRIED CHICKEN LEFTOVERS.

 Of course, neither Vonnegut or Joey had any idea I was freaking out. They thought we were going to daycare, but then I pulled into Baskin Park and that’s a fun place for them, too.

I slowly pulled into the Baskin lot and said, “Well, they’re either there or they’re not,” and gingerly opened the door, half expecting the pupcakes to come raining down on me.

 And there they were. Magically safe. The ingredient list flew away, but the pupcakes were safe.

 Honda Odyssey: The Cadillac of Minivans.

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Man v. Dog

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Man v. Dog

Coincidentally, my Man Friend drives a Ford Mustang and lets Joey ride along.  Just another reason he’s the best.

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She's Gone

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She's Gone

As she took her last breath, I collapsed on her body and wailed.  I have never heard sounds like that come out of my body.   It was the most raw, uncontrollable emotional reaction of my life. 

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Zeez ARE Ger-man

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Zeez ARE Ger-man

“Are zeeez Ger-man Shorthaired Pointers?” she asked excitedly in a thick, not quite distinguishable accent from some eastern part of Europe.

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Allison Dogwood

Allison Dogwood

Our relationships with our dogs are so simple 95% of the time--damn the 5%.  We take them in knowing we will almost certainly outlive them and still develop the strongest of bonds.  

Balls

Balls

These are the type of men who bring their Chessie Retriever with grapefruit-sized testicles swinging about to the park and then wonder why toddlers run in fear.  The kids aren’t afraid of the pooch, they are afraid of knockout by scrotum.

Meat Skeleton

Meat Skeleton

It’s easier to be angry at the sick person than be angry with yourself for how your choices helped create the situation. 

Turdsday Afternoon

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Turdsday Afternoon

I could smell it on their breath when they came in the living room.  I felt like the wife of a drinker checking his breath when he hits the door.  Of course, Joey tried to give me kisses, which I declined. 

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What's up, bitches?

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What's up, bitches?

"It’s a little amazing what some people let knot up their panties.  My use of bitch is at times playful, at times serious, and most of the time, literal.  Words only have the power you give them and the offensiveness of a word lies more in the tone that the speaker uses.  

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