Somebody is awful comfy.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Shrooming Puppy
Besides two enormous bean bags (one of which endured a messy puppy accident last year), we have a bright green footstool in our basement. In addition to being extremely comfy, it also looks like a mushroom, which I find amusing. Nick’s family tried to get rid of it at a garage sale, but I was adamant that we had to save it.
A few weekends ago, Nick and I decided to watch the movie Clash of the Titans (there are so many things wrong with this movie, the worst being the title. There’s only one freaking Titan in the film, so really it’s Clash of the Titan, singular, which doesn’t make sense, much like the movie). Luckily Forest decided to hang with us so I had another source of entertainment.
Just ignore Nick’s feet in these pictures, he was too lazy to move them.
A few weekends ago, Nick and I decided to watch the movie Clash of the Titans (there are so many things wrong with this movie, the worst being the title. There’s only one freaking Titan in the film, so really it’s Clash of the Titan, singular, which doesn’t make sense, much like the movie). Luckily Forest decided to hang with us so I had another source of entertainment.
Just ignore Nick’s feet in these pictures, he was too lazy to move them.
“Ah, the perfect place to chew on my bone.”
“Yum, mushroom-bone”
“Mommy’s right, this is pretty comfy”
“Oh, this spot is even better.”
“Disregard my previous statements. This is the best position EVER.”
Monday, September 13, 2010
Forest’s First Pighide
Our friend Lisa has mentioned how much her dog Bailey likes Bully Sticks. She even sent me an adorable photo of the puppy chewing on her “cigar”. Oh la la, very classy.
I thought about buying Forest some Bully Sticks, but then I researched what they actually are:
Bully Sticks consist entirely of pure bull penises. This is the only ingredient in the product.
Followed by the gross manufacturing details:
Bully Sticks are manufactured by first removing the bull penis, cleaning it and hanging it upside down to allow fluids to run out. The bull penis is then stretched and sometimes twisted, and then dried or smoked.
Source
Sooooo, although I’m sure dogs love the taste of dried-up bull willy, my puppy ain’t going anywhere near them. I compromised and bought Forest his first pighide (which, as a vegetarian, was a really weird shopping cart item).
I thought about buying Forest some Bully Sticks, but then I researched what they actually are:
Bully Sticks consist entirely of pure bull penises. This is the only ingredient in the product.
Followed by the gross manufacturing details:
Bully Sticks are manufactured by first removing the bull penis, cleaning it and hanging it upside down to allow fluids to run out. The bull penis is then stretched and sometimes twisted, and then dried or smoked.
Source
Sooooo, although I’m sure dogs love the taste of dried-up bull willy, my puppy ain’t going anywhere near them. I compromised and bought Forest his first pighide (which, as a vegetarian, was a really weird shopping cart item).
“For me?”
“I’ll humor you and just chew on this here end.”
“Hmm, that’s actually pretty good.”
“Holy poop, this is fantastic!” Nom nom nom
“Maybe I’ll try this angle.”
“What? It's yummy.”
“Shhhh, we’re having a staring contest.”
Not quite as classy as Bailey, but I think Forest is pretty happy with his cigar as well.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
My Attempt to Secure the Dog-Free Zone
Forest doesn’t shed so he has free reign of most of house. He can play in every room and take a nap on any piece of furniture, but the bed Nick and I share is officially off limits. Although Forest hasn’t irritated Nick’s allergies, we thought it would be smart to have one place in the house that was dog-free, and what better place than the bed in which Nick spends 7+straight hours a day.
Our puppy has short, stubby legs and our bed has a thick mattress that raises it a tad, so we assumed Forest wouldn’t be able to jump on to it. A few months ago he attempted to get on the bed, but he didn’t estimate the distance correctly and awkwardly crashed into the side of it. Instead of yelling at him, I couldn’t help but just laugh. He’s a stubborn puppy though. A few weeks later he successfully made it onto the bed, but quickly jumped off after a barrage of shouts from his parents. Last week, I came out of the shower to find Forest curled up at the end of our bed. He just looked confused when I yelled at him, but quickly realized his mistake when Nick chimed in. We started to realize that no place in our home may be safe from the puppy.
Last night, Kansas City was struck by a vicious thunderstorm. Forest freaked out. He didn’t like the rolling thunder that shook our house or the bright flashes of lighting coming thru the windows. Nick is out of town on business this week, so unlike a previous storm encounter, the puppy didn’t have Daddy to run to. He followed me around most of the night, whimpering and jumping on my legs. At one point, I noticed that Forest had scampered off somewhere. I went looking for him, wondering where the puppy would seek comfort during a storm. I really should have known better. I found Forest sprawled across our pillows on the bed. He definitely understood that he was being bad when I yelled at him and shamefully sulk off the bed.
A few hours later, I tried to go to sleep with what sounded like a hurricane raging outside my window. Forest didn’t sleep. Instead he whimpered and stood on his hind legs at the side of the bed so his head was as close as possible to mine. Around 1 am, bad puppy breath woke me up. As soon as I lifted my head from my pillow, Forest sprung from the floor and landed at my side. I shouted, I cursed, I even tried shoving him away, but Forest refused to get off the bed. Part of me, the really tired part, tried to justify letting him sleep there. He would finally shut up, and I could always wash the sheets the following day before Nick got home. A loud clap of thunder woke me up a little more and l knew that it wouldn’t be fair to let him sleep on the bed for one night. He would assume sleeping on the bed was ok, and would probably get really confused when I yelled at him for getting on the bed the next night. I briefly considered locking Forest in his crate, but in the past even that hasn’t quieted him up when a thunderstorm was rolling through.
My sleep-depraved brain could only think of one other solution. I dragged my pillows into the guest room and slept on the futon with the puppy. I think it was a small victory in self-control, but also just feel like the damn dog has whipped me good.
Our puppy has short, stubby legs and our bed has a thick mattress that raises it a tad, so we assumed Forest wouldn’t be able to jump on to it. A few months ago he attempted to get on the bed, but he didn’t estimate the distance correctly and awkwardly crashed into the side of it. Instead of yelling at him, I couldn’t help but just laugh. He’s a stubborn puppy though. A few weeks later he successfully made it onto the bed, but quickly jumped off after a barrage of shouts from his parents. Last week, I came out of the shower to find Forest curled up at the end of our bed. He just looked confused when I yelled at him, but quickly realized his mistake when Nick chimed in. We started to realize that no place in our home may be safe from the puppy.
Last night, Kansas City was struck by a vicious thunderstorm. Forest freaked out. He didn’t like the rolling thunder that shook our house or the bright flashes of lighting coming thru the windows. Nick is out of town on business this week, so unlike a previous storm encounter, the puppy didn’t have Daddy to run to. He followed me around most of the night, whimpering and jumping on my legs. At one point, I noticed that Forest had scampered off somewhere. I went looking for him, wondering where the puppy would seek comfort during a storm. I really should have known better. I found Forest sprawled across our pillows on the bed. He definitely understood that he was being bad when I yelled at him and shamefully sulk off the bed.
A few hours later, I tried to go to sleep with what sounded like a hurricane raging outside my window. Forest didn’t sleep. Instead he whimpered and stood on his hind legs at the side of the bed so his head was as close as possible to mine. Around 1 am, bad puppy breath woke me up. As soon as I lifted my head from my pillow, Forest sprung from the floor and landed at my side. I shouted, I cursed, I even tried shoving him away, but Forest refused to get off the bed. Part of me, the really tired part, tried to justify letting him sleep there. He would finally shut up, and I could always wash the sheets the following day before Nick got home. A loud clap of thunder woke me up a little more and l knew that it wouldn’t be fair to let him sleep on the bed for one night. He would assume sleeping on the bed was ok, and would probably get really confused when I yelled at him for getting on the bed the next night. I briefly considered locking Forest in his crate, but in the past even that hasn’t quieted him up when a thunderstorm was rolling through.
My sleep-depraved brain could only think of one other solution. I dragged my pillows into the guest room and slept on the futon with the puppy. I think it was a small victory in self-control, but also just feel like the damn dog has whipped me good.
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