Yay.
Just when I give up on life, just when I decide I've been there and done everything and there's no point in waking up each A.M., just about that time some crazy loon of an idea comes along to cheer me up. Lydia's friend Kristen got Lydia interested in something fun called geocaching. It's about using your GPS device to find stuff that others have hidden, taking something out, putting something in, rehiding the container, and moving on with your life. I was reading the associated site, geocaching.com, when I came upon the little story of a couple who do this and they found a plastic garden gnome bearing a note, "Help me get to Nome, Alaska." And there I was; hooked. How delightful.
So now it is my goal to hide things for Benny to find on his daily dog-walks. This will be hard because all the terrain they pass is private property, i.e. people's yards. Benny refers to geocaching as "treasure hunting" and likes to try to find something his little sister might want, which will show you what a dear little person he is. Which makes the decision easy, the one about what to hide. Sadie loves gaudy, sparkly jewelry. Every time she visits my house, she drags out all my old jewelry, the things I keep mostly for her sake, available in containers easily accessible to her. I'd geocache all those pieces except that each one of them is not only an example of very bad taste; it also goes with an outfit I wear at least once/year. So now I have a reason to look for garage sales and flea markets, the proper venue for the sort of jewelry Sadie appreciates. You see how one thing leads to another...and, of course, I happen to just love sales of junky things. Much as I adore garage sailing and flea marketing, I wouldn't ever go to one of them on my own behalf. This need for geocachable items appealing to Sadie, however, allows me to give myself permission. Elaborate, roundabout, but it's going to work for all parties. So there I am, all set with something new and entertaining to think about.
At geocaching.com I found that there are several hidden treasures right here in Colonial Place, on my dog walking route. From the comfort of this chair I already more or less located one of them...even without the help of a GPS device. Then I called Lydia and found that she and Benny have actually found this one, opened it, taken something, added something, and rehidden it. So now I'm going to take a bath, get dressed, then Porque Choppe and I will go to see if we, also, can spot this container. Lydia says that of the ones she's found, all are quite difficult to see, well-camouflaged.
So that's one reason to wake up today. Here's another. I've got to brush Porque Choppe's teeth. At the vet's I bought special chicken flavored dog toothpaste as well as a little brush that fits over my index finger. I expect that I'm going to get bitten because Porque does not tolerate anything she interprets as disrespect. Be that as it may, today's the day. I've got to soldier on to teach Porque something new and useful. since she's finally beginning to act like a dog over whom someone has toiled in the effort to teach the word, "Sit," it's time for a new challenge.
Last new and different activity for today...at last, finally getting started with Porque Choppe on using her litter box. I've allowed her to defeat me over this and that's gotta stop. I make excuses, my favorite of which is that it's not right to interfere with a dog's moral code if the dog is really living up to her beliefs. What beliefs? Well, Porque Choppe believes it's her duty to go potty upstairs in the front corner of my office on the papers I leave there for her. She trudges upstairs without fail even when she doesn't want to. For instance last night we slept downstairs in front of the TV because I was watching a back-to-back series of shows, on TLC, "Real Housewives of Orange County," and fell asleep somewhere along the way. I woke up briefly between 3:00 and 4:00 A.M. and so did Porque. She sat up, yawned, looked around and jumped down on the floor. She stretched. Looked all around at the dark house, clearly considered the possibility of being bad and just pottying on the floor downstairs , wearily abandoned that naughtiness and then all by her tiny self went upstairs in the dark to go potty in the right place. Now, that's living the life, walking the walk. I tell myself that this small dog has a code and she follows it and I shouldn't get between her and her dogly little conscience. But then I remember the litter box and also I remember that last time Lydia was here she carried on about how my house smells like a dog toilet and it's so bad that she can barely stand to come in the door....99% of which has got to be hyperbole since I can't smell what she's talking about and since I never allow any doggy business to accumulate, pick it right up and dispose of it. But maybe I'm senile; they say that your sense of smell is the first indicator of creeping senility; when it starts to go, you're headed for full-blown Altzheimers. On the outside chance that I'm going out of my mind and can't smell that my house is a dog toilet, I plan, today, to get cracking on the next big confrontation between Porque Choppe and civilization; the litter box.
The list;
1)find a garage sale/flea market where I can buy junk jewelry to geocache,
2)brush Porque's teeth and get my finger bitten to the bone,
3)make Porque go potty in the litter box.
So now it is my goal to hide things for Benny to find on his daily dog-walks. This will be hard because all the terrain they pass is private property, i.e. people's yards. Benny refers to geocaching as "treasure hunting" and likes to try to find something his little sister might want, which will show you what a dear little person he is. Which makes the decision easy, the one about what to hide. Sadie loves gaudy, sparkly jewelry. Every time she visits my house, she drags out all my old jewelry, the things I keep mostly for her sake, available in containers easily accessible to her. I'd geocache all those pieces except that each one of them is not only an example of very bad taste; it also goes with an outfit I wear at least once/year. So now I have a reason to look for garage sales and flea markets, the proper venue for the sort of jewelry Sadie appreciates. You see how one thing leads to another...and, of course, I happen to just love sales of junky things. Much as I adore garage sailing and flea marketing, I wouldn't ever go to one of them on my own behalf. This need for geocachable items appealing to Sadie, however, allows me to give myself permission. Elaborate, roundabout, but it's going to work for all parties. So there I am, all set with something new and entertaining to think about.
At geocaching.com I found that there are several hidden treasures right here in Colonial Place, on my dog walking route. From the comfort of this chair I already more or less located one of them...even without the help of a GPS device. Then I called Lydia and found that she and Benny have actually found this one, opened it, taken something, added something, and rehidden it. So now I'm going to take a bath, get dressed, then Porque Choppe and I will go to see if we, also, can spot this container. Lydia says that of the ones she's found, all are quite difficult to see, well-camouflaged.
So that's one reason to wake up today. Here's another. I've got to brush Porque Choppe's teeth. At the vet's I bought special chicken flavored dog toothpaste as well as a little brush that fits over my index finger. I expect that I'm going to get bitten because Porque does not tolerate anything she interprets as disrespect. Be that as it may, today's the day. I've got to soldier on to teach Porque something new and useful. since she's finally beginning to act like a dog over whom someone has toiled in the effort to teach the word, "Sit," it's time for a new challenge.
Last new and different activity for today...at last, finally getting started with Porque Choppe on using her litter box. I've allowed her to defeat me over this and that's gotta stop. I make excuses, my favorite of which is that it's not right to interfere with a dog's moral code if the dog is really living up to her beliefs. What beliefs? Well, Porque Choppe believes it's her duty to go potty upstairs in the front corner of my office on the papers I leave there for her. She trudges upstairs without fail even when she doesn't want to. For instance last night we slept downstairs in front of the TV because I was watching a back-to-back series of shows, on TLC, "Real Housewives of Orange County," and fell asleep somewhere along the way. I woke up briefly between 3:00 and 4:00 A.M. and so did Porque. She sat up, yawned, looked around and jumped down on the floor. She stretched. Looked all around at the dark house, clearly considered the possibility of being bad and just pottying on the floor downstairs , wearily abandoned that naughtiness and then all by her tiny self went upstairs in the dark to go potty in the right place. Now, that's living the life, walking the walk. I tell myself that this small dog has a code and she follows it and I shouldn't get between her and her dogly little conscience. But then I remember the litter box and also I remember that last time Lydia was here she carried on about how my house smells like a dog toilet and it's so bad that she can barely stand to come in the door....99% of which has got to be hyperbole since I can't smell what she's talking about and since I never allow any doggy business to accumulate, pick it right up and dispose of it. But maybe I'm senile; they say that your sense of smell is the first indicator of creeping senility; when it starts to go, you're headed for full-blown Altzheimers. On the outside chance that I'm going out of my mind and can't smell that my house is a dog toilet, I plan, today, to get cracking on the next big confrontation between Porque Choppe and civilization; the litter box.
The list;
1)find a garage sale/flea market where I can buy junk jewelry to geocache,
2)brush Porque's teeth and get my finger bitten to the bone,
3)make Porque go potty in the litter box.
2 Comments:
oh yea yea yea!!! i love this! rob and the kids, most especially, have a very very good time geo-cache'ing. they both look for things to put into the caches and both tend to look for something to get for their sibling. it's lovely. we have one of our own caches that we've 'released.'
and something else i find amusing about the geo-cache thing...they refer to people who are not cache'ing as muggles. beware the muggles when you are out and about. you must be stealthy. rhys likes that part too. he talks about being a secret agent. heh heh.
and how did the brushing teeth and litter boxing go?
Teeth brushing didn't happen yet because I kept chickening out. I don't want to get bitten. Porque loves me but she'd bite me in a second if she thought I was guilty of disrespect. When it comes to R.E.S.P.E.C.T., ghetto residents and chihuahuas feel similar passion for their right to inspire fear in ambient humanity. For example the other day, I kept picking Porque Choppe up for some reason and all of a sudden, she growled at me. When I ignored that, she showed her teeth and growled. Of course, at that point, I gave her the two-fingered chihuahua beat down, but she was unbowed and kept right on growling and showing her teeth until I stopped pestering her. Yesterday I used the excuse that I had children here and didn't want to make Porque so grouchy that she might snap at one of them. Today Porque and I have the house to ourselves and she IS going to get her teeth brushed. If I still chicken out, I guess I'll make an appointment for her at the doggy beauty parlor where they'll re-do her gold toenails, give her a bath, and also, if requested, brush her teeth. One way or another, little dog gets her teeth brushed.
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