Bodacious Boomer

Huzzah! The trash guys took our old couch this morning. This was a good thing since they’d passed on it last Friday when I was having my fun filled amble through the thunderstorm while looking for our pack. I heard their truck this morning, wrapped myself up in a pareo and went running out, ready for a fight, only to see them loading it up. Good thing too. They really wouldn’t want any of this and I might’ve wound up on the news. (Houston woman runs amok, film at 11.)

Now, before anyone jumps on my ass for not donating the couch, I must inform you that I kept all the couch cushions for dog beds; so it was just the couch skeleton that was going to the landfill. I was green-ish.

Doug just got home,  much earlier than expected. Apparently he has a few days off before the next phase of the census. That’s good because there’s a fair amount of crap around here that I just physically cannot do by myself. I plan to work him like one of the slaves on the Pyramids. Lucky for me it’s a quid pro quo situation, so he doesn’t mind at all. Maybe we can finally get everything unpacked and put into place.

We’re finally getting our new, slightly used  Duet W/D tonight. I’m pumped. How sad is that, that I’m excited about appliances on stilts. You couldn’t have bet me thirty years ago this would’ve been in my reality.

This is disturbing on so many levels.

Anyway, I’ve got about 20 things I need to do before it starts raining again, so I’m outta here. But I saw this today and just had to share it with you.

Please realize that this is in a public place, a la a convention center. They are sitting in front of a professional backdrop. This raises many concerns:

1. Is this animal abuse?

2. Is  some kinky sexual thing about to go down? Those people look awfully happy with all that fur on their laps. The cats, not so much.

3.  Someone else was going to be sitting on those stools.

I’ve got to stop this. I may have nightmares.

And NO! This is NOT Doug and I. I would be holding a puppy. A really giant puppy. Besides, as a public service, I don’t do naked away from home. You’re welcome.

Bizarrometer says- 100

A salesman knocked on my door last week. (Which is unusual these days since door-to-door salesmen are going the way of the dodo.) Long ago they were pretty common-the Avon lady, the Fuller brush man, etc. When he knocked, eight dogs, weighing a total of 330 lbs, ran to the door, barking like mad. Molly, aka Molly the bull, literally slammed into the door, all 85 lbs. of her. Next was Charlie Brown, aka The Beast. By the time I cracked the door open enough to ask what he wanted all eight were at the door, doing their best Cujo imitations. I have to hand it to him, he hung in there. (I would’ve left as soon as I heard Molly hit the door). The guy was holding  a brochure about alarm systems. He looked at me through the barely opened door and yelled “I guess you don’t need one.” Now usually I only have 6 dogs here, but that day, I also had Simba and Charlie Brown with me.

Two and a half years ago at Evelyn’s house one afternoon when her garage door had been left open. She went back out to close it what was there? a puppy! Evelyn wasn’t looking to get another dog, much less a puppy. However Amanda and Nate were living with her at the time and decided that the puppy would stay and become theirs unless his owner could be found. He was a small, cute, round, bundle of fur of about 6 lbs.. A week later with no owner to be found, the vet predicted he would grow to be about 35 lbs- a nice, manageable size.  (I wondered about that estimate since his paws were huge.)

Charlie Brown and his folks moved into our garage apartment when he was about 1 yr. old. By then, he’d graduated from obedience school. (Not that I could tell much of a difference.) When he came to live here he was a big, oafy little kid of a dog whose four legs seemed to have a mind of their own with no two ever going the same direction. By now he’d been nicknamed “The Beast.” Nothing in the house was safe. Every time I looked around, he’d grown bigger.  He’s so tall by now that he can rest his chin on the dining room table; his body so long he looks like one of those city buses that has a pleated extension in the middle.

A few months ago Nate and Amanda moved into their own home. One day they made the mistake of  underestimating just how tall  he was. Charlie Brown got an entire bottle of fish oil capsules off the counter while his parents were out. Apparently he had quite the picnic eating all 150 capsules. (Thankfully, they weren’t toxic.) However, that’s not to say there were no consequences. Big hound dog+150 fish oil capsules+white carpeting=an ugly situation. As bad as the carpet situation was, there was something worse to come. The smell of fish oil emanated from Charlie Brown for weeks. That smell permeated everything he came into contact with. They had to clean, then re-clean everything. Then do it all again. When he entered the room, you knew it. I still gave him hugs. (However, the days when I couldn’t get right home to change clothes I regretted it). Since he doesn’t live with me anymore though I could just sit back and laugh. I did that a lot. Sometimes being grandma is fun. today’s trivia answer- 1/2 oz.

Charlie Brown is ginormous