Just got home from a meeting, and found this:
Just got home from a meeting, and found this:
She has the rather unfortunate name of Peaches, but she’s really a love.
Now I don’t sell soap, but wouldn’t these be great Pug Sudz product shots?
Mr Demo didn’t like the old windows he installed, so he put in new ones. It’s hard to tell from my pictures, but this is a huge improvement. I didn’t even mind the old ones, but then again, I didn’t have the vision. As I keep being reminded.
And while I’m uploading pictures, here’s a snap of Harry on Christmas. The ribbon traumatized him.
(harry)(foster pug)*(steve)(nightshift)=crazy pug lady
To explicate: I am fostering a pug for Seattle Pug Rescue. He’s a little, erm, bundle of energy named Obie. He and Harry get along just fine, though sometimes Harry has to put the smackdown on the rambunctious puppyness. Which secretly thrills me because most of the time, Harry just lets Obie hump him.
Also, Steve is now working the night shift. He goes to work at about 3, and comes home about 2 in the morning. He’s actually on a schedule that’s more like mine, which is weird because he’s always gone to bed at something obscenely early like 8 in the evening. But I find that I’m lonely rattling around the house at night.
Which leads me to the whole point of this post: I have become a crazy pug lady. Steve pointed out the other day that I actually CONVERSE with the dogs.
As the queen of procrastination, I naturally picked up this jaunty orange-colored book thinking it would be a witty romp through the hours of the day. And it’s certainly a romp through the hours, but, well, there’s no way to say this nicely, so I’ll just say it: It’s just not that witty. Or funny. Or even that interesting, to be brutally honest. Sure, Hodgkinson makes some interesting points and observations (among them some admittedly pithy observations about daytime vampires), and backs everything up with quotes from other, more famous loafers. But ultimately, I abandoned this. After all, if I need lessons in idleness (which let’s face it, I don’t), I have a much better role model.
Well hello …
“Harry can’t play with Sasha and Willy any more,” Steve said this morning.
“Why?” I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and preparing to stagger into the kitchen for coffee.
“They’re a bad influence.”
Indeed. Mr Potsticker pulled the flour off the bottom shelf and proceeded to wreak havoc.
And as if that weren’t enough, he also started licking it off the floor.
Remember how you were a kid and made paste out of glue? Harry discovered that if you lick up enough flour, you’ll eventually glue your mouth shut.
I’m dogsitting for Nicki while she’s in Italy. Willie’s eye was all goopy (it was cheatgrass, embedded in his eye, owie), so I took him to the vet, where I started talking to a woman who fosters pugs for Seattle Pug Rescue. I’ve been meaning to volunteer for ages–but first Harry got sick, then I forgot about it, then we did a stint of traveling, then I forgot about it again. Anyway, I sent in the application, and then informed Steve that we might be a pug foster family. I think he’s a bit excited about having another pug because 1) he called me this afternoon just to tell me that he saw an adorable pug puppy and 2) he started trawling youtube for pug videos. He CLAIMS there was a link from yahoo. Wink. Wink.
Anyway, he came across this. Which had us ROLLING.
And then we found this … pure pug porn:
I mean, seriously. Like it’s not bad that children no longer have bedtimes and are screaming and running around restaurants at nine in the evening. Now dogs too?
“Where’s my puppy?” Steve demanded the other night. “I need to snuggle.”
“I thought you hated him.”
“I do. I hate the little bastard. Now where is he?”
Harry discovers Geoff’s empty beer bottle–and I find that I’m an enabler.
You wouldn’t know it today–which is damp and drizzly–but yesterday was HOT. Steve and I took the dog around Seward Park, and then the two of us collected bathing suits and hit the open waters of Lake Washington. We left Harry at home. When we got back, this is what we found:
We puttered around the house, doing laundry, dishes, nagging Steve about hooking up the water to the sink. Finally, Harry finally moved …
To humans, Jeff is an exceptionally good-tempered and friendly cat; to rodents and other small animals, he is death itself…
Harry’s latest obsession is tennis balls, which somehow or another he manages to cram in his mouth. He wanders around the house like this:
Americas Choice, Preferred Pets
Demoulas Market Basket
Hill Country Fare
Meijers Main Choice
Mighty Dog (The recall affects only 5.3 pouch products that were produced from Dec. 3, 2006 through March 14, 2007.)
Natural Balance Venison and Brown Rice canned and bagged dog foods and dog treats
Nutro Natural Choice
Pet Pride – Good ’n Meaty
Save-A-Lot Choice Morsels
Stop & Shop Companion
Weis Total Pet
Western Family U.S.
Next time you order takeout sushi? And the wasabi packet falls on the floor? And the dog chews it?
Need I say more?