Puppy Conversations | Walking in the Rain with My Puppy

Dear Kid,

Me: Come on, honey, wake up
Puppy: Sleeping
Me: I know, but it’s time to get up
Puppy: (Yawn) It’s very early
Me: I know. But I’m up, and maybe we can beat the rain
Puppy: I think I’d rather snuggle
Me: Snuggles are lovely, but you hate rain
Puppy: It’s very early

 

Puppy: It’s raining!
Me: I think I might have mentioned something to that effect
Puppy: Let’s go home
Me: It’s only going to get worse. Come on
Puppy: Whose idea was this walk thing?

 

Puppy: You must be very fragile
Me: Why do you say that?
Puppy: You have an umbrella every time it rains
Me: Yes
Puppy: and Boots
Me: Very Fun Striped Rain Boots, yes
Puppy: I don’t have an umbrella
Me: No
Puppy: Or rainboots
Me: No
Puppy: You must have a bad reaction to rain
Me: Something like that

 

Puppy: It’s raining
Me: Pretty sure we discussed that already
Puppy: You want me to poop in the rain?
Me: That was the general idea, yes
Puppy: You’re nuts

 

Me: Good boy, let’s go home
Puppy: well…
Me: It’s raining, let’s go home
Puppy: I’m not in a rush
Me: You hate the rain!
Puppy: You woke me up very early
Me: And?
Puppy: And it’s raining
Me: And?
Puppy: And I believe I will take my own sweet time
Me: Why?
Puppy: There are things to sniff and…
Me: And?
Puppy: And I will smell like Wet Dog
Me: Oh, joy
Puppy: Next time don’t wake me up so early

 

Me: Sit
Puppy: Why?
Me: So I can dry you off
Puppy: You already dried me off
Me: With towel number one. This is a two-towel day, my friend
Puppy: You’re delaying my breakfast
Me: Sit

 

Puppy: Mom
Me: Yes, baby
Puppy: I don’t like rain very much
Me: I know
Puppy: But, Mom?
Me: Yes, baby
Puppy: It’s not as bad when we go together
Me: Thank you sweetie.
Puppy: Scratch more, please

Love, Mom

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Ridiculous Messages from Facebook

Dear Kid,

Facebook said “Today is Little Annie’s 16th birthday.”

I said, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Facebook said, “Really, it is her birthday.”

I said, “Oh, I believe it’s her birthday, but not that she’s 16. She’s Little Annie because she’s a little girl. If she were all grown up she’d be called All Grown Up Annie.”

Facebook said, “Maybe you haven’t seen her for a while. She’s definitely 16.”

I said, “It seems more probably to me that you miscounted.”

Facebook said, “That’s not how reality works.”

I said, “That’s one of the reasons I form my own reality. Yours keeps causing improbable things to happen. Like little girls growing up.”

Facebook said, “Perhaps you should look in the mirror.”

I said, “I am still as young as ever.”

Facebook said, “You’ve taught your mirror to lie well.”

Facebook is impertinent.

I’d like to say Facebook and I aren’t on speaking terms anymore but that’s even more ridiculous than Little Annie being old enough to drive. Especially since I plan to send Annie a FB message that says “Happy 12th Birthday” so that we can return reality to the world.

While we’re at it, you don’t need to grow up so quickly either.

Love, Mom

P.S. Annie–do NOT text and drive. EVER.

 

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You Won’t Believe What Science Now Tells Us

Dear Kid,

I love it when scientists study the obvious (and by “love it” I mean I think it’s ridiculous).

There are all sorts of useful things for scientists to study, like how to cure cancer, how to save the environment, and why anyone would write such a bad ending for Grey’s Anatomy.

Once people figure those things out, we’ll have a much better understanding of the universe.

On the other hand, studying things like “Literacy Improves Chances of Employment” or whether watching Fox News makes you stupid seems like a waste of money because well, DUH.

Dear Scientists: Just to save you some time and effort, eating lots of fattening food makes people heavier, listening to extremely loud music (especially through headphones) for long periods of time does not improve people’s hearing, bathing regularly makes one less likely to smell like a cesspool, and Band-Aids cure boo-boos.

You’re welcome.

Scientists have once again ventured into the land of DUH because they have spent (presumably) valuable time and money studying whether dogs love their masters more than wolves love random strangers. (Seriously. There was a study. Published. And reported on NPR. I’m hoping they talked about it because it was a nice, uplifting, happy bit rather than because they thought it was news.)

Puppy love. Can it get any cuter?Turns out doggies have learned to stare into people’s eyes because that’s what people do, and to avoid eye contact with strange canines because that’s appropriate canine behavior. And it turns out your dog actually does love you as can now be proven scientifically.

Science therefore has now caught up with what every dog owner already knows. We love our dogs and our dogs love us.

Just to be clear—people have known this since the first dinosaur came home with a big eyed bronco-puppy and said, “But mom, he just followed me home! Can I keep him? He loves me!”

And scientists put effort into this.

Duh.

Love, Mom

i shall take myself for a walk...would you like to accompany me? DearKidLoveMom.com

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Animals Like You’ve Never Thought Of Them

Dear Kid,

Well, we’ve had quite an animal-filled week. Wombats, dead fuzzy duck and dead TV, and Rodney the Bird. (If you think a dead TV isn’t an animal, you probably haven’t been paying attention.)

Also, I’m pretty sure our house is alive.

Last weekend I spent a LOT of time cleaning. I don’t mean my standard “It’s been 3 whole minutes, it’s as clean as it’s ever gonna get” lots of time. I mean serious hours. Measured by the clock. I removed pounds of ick from our house. I put things away (crazy, right?).

Today, you would never know someone even thought about getting the house in order.

Elephant Trunk. DearKidLoveMom.comI’m pretty sure it’s the house’s fault. No one who lives here would even consider leaving clutter around.

And the ants have invaded again. You remember them. They are the little bitty black spots with too many legs that like to invade the sink (full of unclean pots and dishes) looking for a bit of free lunch. Heebie and Jeebie.

Guess what is going to be on the pismire menu for dinner?

If you guessed ant traps, give yourself a gold star.

Is it weird that my grocery list is chicken, tomatoes, eggs, ant traps?

Have a great day and enjoy studying for exams.

Love, Mom

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Wombats Poop and Other Things You Don’t Know

Dear Kid,

Today’s Word of the Day is wombat because why not?

Wombats, the common, the southern hairy-nosed, and the northern hairy-nosed, live in Australia with their marsupial cousins (quick—name two marsupials).

Dang cute wombat. DearKidLoveMom.comIn addition to being dang cute, wombats are endangered. The northern hairy nosed wombat (isn’t that just the cutest name ever?) is one of the most endangered animals on the planet.

Wombats have terrible vision. They are nocturnal, live underground, and are mostly solitary, which means there’s not much to see. Which may be why wombat optometry never really caught on.

Wombats are reasonably big—they can weigh up to 88 pounds (maybe there’s a rule that says they can’t go to 89?).

If absolutely necessary (and by “absolutely necessary” I mean “Seriously Absolutely”) wombats can run. Very, very fast. Faster than all but the fastest humans. (And by “fastest human” I mean a toddler trying to avoid naptime.) Specifically, wombats can run up to 25 miles per hour which is pretty speedy (Usain Bolt has been clocked at 28 mph but he didn’t keep it up very far).

Running might be fun for some humans (present author not included) but as far as wombats go, sleeping, eating, and pooping (we’ll get back to the pooping) are much more fun. Which makes wombats equivalent to college students on the weekend.

They can also jump. None have been recruited to the NBA because they have terrible ball handling skills.

Wombats have tough backsides (and, yes, by “backside” I mean buttocks). To defend itself, a wombat will leap (with all the grace of a nearly blind, 88 pound sack of potatoes) into a burrow and block the entrance with its tushy.

If you’ve ever studied Australian wildlife, you’ll know that there is an abundance of predators with lots of sharp teeth and toes and whatnot, and you’ve got to be pretty darn tough of tush to expose your backside to all that predator-ness.

Back to the poop, which may be the most interesting thing about wombats (never thought I’d say that, did you?).

Wombats poop cubes. Not because they have tough backsides. And not because they have play-doh-like square sphincters.

Wombats have perhaps the driest poop on the planet. Their digestive process takes 14-18 days which allows most of the nutrients and water to be absorbed (this is good for the wombat). The highly dry poop and lack of rectal muscle contraction mean (you guessed it) cube-y poopy.

Like many other animals, wombats leave poop lying around for a variety of reasons. Poop explains a lot about who the poop-leaver is. If you are well-versed in these things (and wombats are) you can write a thesis about the poop-leaver’s gender, health, age, recent dietary changes, and feelings about reality TV. You can also tell that there is a wombat around and perhaps you ought to leave the territory and build your own warren elsewhere.

Wombats like to be left alone. And poop is an excellent way to say “get thee gone.”

Wombats like to put their poop out like billboards. And they like their poopbillboards to be highly visible (emphasis on high). So they put their poopy pellets on top of rocks or logs (or billboards if they happen to find one). The cube shape keeps the poop from rolling off its perch.

Aren’t you glad today’s word of the day is wombat?

Love, Mom

Koalas and Kangaroos are both marsupials, proving that being a marsupial increases your cuteness factor by 1000%. Which leads to the following beauty tip: If you’re not cute enough, grow a pouch.

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Puppy Views on Fuzzy Duck

Dear Kid,

Not too long ago, we gave the puppy a new toy. It was a fuzzy duck. Which is fun to say. And apparently fun to carry around because the puppy spent a lot of time trotting around with the fuzzy duck.

See my new fuzzy duck? DearKidLoveMom.com

The duck had a quacker in it. Which made a very funny quwonck sound every now and then. The puppy carried the duck everywhere for a few days.

But a day or so ago, the puppy decided it was time to surgically remove the duck’s quacker. Much chewing and de-stuffing ensued. The noisemaking part was gently removed (and by “gently removed” I mean ripped out) and teeny pieces of plastic were methodically chewed off and spit out.

I watched carefully to be sure all the little parts were spit out. After a while I traded the plastic for an edible bone so I didn’t have to watch any more.

Yesterday, the baby decided to remove all the rest of the stuffing. He is (of course) very proud of himself.

See my new fuzzy duck? I am such a good boy. DearKidLoveMom.com

Love, Mom

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Dad Killed the TV and What I’m Doing About It

Dear Kid,

Dad killed the TV.

Before you freak out, let me assure you that the murder victim was the old TV upstairs not the studly new TV in the family room.

How do I know it was murdered? Because it won’t turn on.

How do I know Dad was the murderer? Because when I fell asleep last night, the TV was happily spewing light and sound in the form of Burn Notice reruns. When I awoke it was off. When I tried to turn it on, all I got was Blank Screen. Since Booker’s not allowed upstairs, it must be Dad’s fault.

I would have made a fantastic forensic scientist.

Bottom line: We are—at least temporarily—a one TV household.

And this one-ness is causing stress and strain. Because there are those of us who would prefer to watch hockey playoffs and those of us who would prefer to watch The Royals. Those of us who would prefer to watch endless games of hockey and those of us who would prefer to watch NCIS. Those of us who would prefer to remain glued to the TV for any snippet of hockey-ness and those of us who would prefer to watch Almost Anything Else.

And right now those Thoses and the these Thoses can’t both have their way.

(If you’re going to mention DVR-ing or watching on computers, forget it. We’re old, I work on the computer while I watch TV, and I’m of the I-want-to-watch-it-now-not-later contingent.)

Bottom line: We are going to acquire a new TV.

Before you freak out, let me assure you it will not be nearly as studly as the one in the family room. On the other hand it will not be as archaic as the dead one.

I will be the one selecting the TV. Which means it will be pretty. And it will be what I want.

And it will probably be sitting in a box waiting for you to hook it up when you get home from school.

EXCEPT

Except that Dad came upstairs and reset the cable box–and the dead TV came back to life.

I feel pretty stupid for not having thought of that.

And I don’t get to buy a new TV.

Yet.

Love, Mom

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