"No, I won't wear bunny ears"

On Saturday, we went downtown to walk/jog in the Pet Promise Rescue Run 5k. We did this same event two years ago, so I was especially excited that we would actually be home and able to do it again. The event is a lot of fun for a psycho dog mom, such as myself because it includes freebies, vendors, music and of course...a 5k. What's really great about this event is that its all about the dogs. They have water bowls throughout the course as well as baby pools for them to cool off afterward (Chino took full advantage of this little perk). Its a very casual atmosphere, where people don't mind if they get jumped on or licked or tangled in a leash. They laugh instead of rolling their eyes.

During the 2nd lap of the 5k, we were still power walking behind Mr. White Legs + tube socks and a wedge.  No matter what, we weren't able to get around him.  We'd get ahead and then Chino would stop and poop or something, and then he'd trot past us.  So, to get rid of this eyesore, once and for all, we tried to kick it up a notch and jog for a bit, to put some distance between us.  Chino wanted nothing to do with this idea, but went along for most of it anyway.  As we rounded the corner, close to the parking lot, Chino comes to a dead stop.  He sets his legs and pulls his head back in a defiant pose that clearly screams, "I AM DONE. NO MORE. I HATE THIS."  Not wanting to quit the 5k, we coaxed him along for a few more feet, before he did it again.

Chino is notorious for deciding when he's had enough exertion, so this was nothing new to us. What we hadn't figured out was a method to avoid this whole thing in the first place.  Typically, we just beg him to continue, telling him what a good boy he is, or shouting words of encouragement, such as "c'mon buddy, you can't do it...".  This sets a ridiculous scene as we beg him to keep going, as he trails behind us in a half-ass trot.

I must have had an exercised-induced eureka because I decided to turn jogging into a mini-game of chase.  I started jogging ahead of Nick and Chino and low and behold, Chino took the lead and began jogging as well!  To make sure this wasn't a fluke, we traded and I let Nick lead this little parade of 3.  Chino immediately lost interest and went back to his old ways.  There was no dragging, pleading or stopping.  He just trotted along behind me, like it was something he does every day.

Fast forward to Monday morning.  Nick and I woke up early to exercise and decided to try this little trick again.  It worked!  Not a fluke.  The only problem is that I have to be the leader and Nick has to be one or two steps behind me, so that Chino sees it as a game of "chase" instead of exercise.  Nick is a tad annoyed about the way that this scenario must play out, and despite trading several times, it never fails that when I hold Chino's leash and Nick jogs ahead, Chino reverts back to his old ways.

I'm trying to brainstorm as to how we can capitalize on Chino's love of bunnies in order to help improve our time and allow us to share the leash duties.  It never fails, that when we see a rabbit in the morning, Chino is energized and picks up the pace.  I told Nick that perhaps he should channel his inner bunny, and spray himself with bunny scent.  My sister came up with the idea of bunny ears.  I think its a spectacular idea.  I would definitely not bitch about jogging in the morning if my husband was hip-hoppin' around in bunny paraphernalia.  So I asked him if he'd do it.  Of course, he answers me in his usual calm voice, without skipping a beat, "No, I'm not wearing bunny stuff, Chino would bite my ass."

Analogy

This holiday weekend was spent giving our house some love.  Our previously white hallways are now lovely shades of Camel (not toe) and Mesa.  For those guys out there - brown and slightly darker brown - for contrast, duh.  After this weekend, I've decided that painting is like spinning class.  You decide that you're going to go for it, so you gather your supplies, get ready and go for it.  While you're actually doing it - taping, painting, touching up -it sucks. Afterwards, you see the results and are so proud and impressed with yourself, that you feel the need to do it again.  As we were working, I can't even count how many times I declared that we were hiring someone next time and that this was THE LAST TIME that I would be painting anything myself.  As we finished up, I found myself thinking of the next color for the next room and thinking that it wasn't THAT bad.  See, just like spinning class.  Total vicious cycle.  Get it? Cycle?!  Ha.  Couldn't resist.  Please take a moment to admire our handy work and my good taste.  Who knew?

Pardon me while I rant

The social media craze is sweeping the nation. I get that. I facebook, I tweet and I obviously blog. I am also a former myspacer, but I'm considering turning our separation into a formal divorce because admittedly, I like facebook better and I see no point in maintaining two accounts with the same friends, photos, information and witty comments.

Here's the thing. I like facebook, etc. for its networking possibilities and also because of my natural voyeuristic nature. I love to see photos of new places, drunken escapades and even your pets and kids. Its nice to know that you're doing well, your family is happy and that your kid is walking. Most of the above information, I can gather from your photos, etc. which all have a natural place on your profile. What is beginning to aggravate me are the endless status updates that update me on the obvious "So and so is loving her perfect family" or "Such and such is COMPLETELY in love with her husband who is the best husband in the whole entire world." Well I've got news for you. My family is perfect and my husband is the best, so how can yours be? Do you want to start a status war? I'm game. I'll win.

This got me thinking. I wonder what exactly could be wrong with your present situation to make you broadcast its glory via facebook. To me, telling my husband that I love him by writing on his wall isn't nearly as meaningful as telling him in person, or better yet - doing a load of his laundry. Maybe the fact that I don't have children is the root of my indifference about your playdate. Maybe not. I don't feel the need to update you daily that my husband is "the best man in the whole world" or that "I'm so happy that rainbows are shooting out of my ass". Why? Because I know that you don't care - and of course he's the best husband, or I wouldn't have married him. BUT - why do I continually see people proclaiming their happiness on facebook? What are they hiding? Maybe its sarcasm that is obviously lost on me? Personally I think it cheapens a relationship when you broadcast something that should be intimate and special.

I would much rather read stories about how your child projectile vomitted or how your husband is cell phone stalking you or that your dog decided to eat a ball point pen (yep, mine did that yesterday). Give me song lyrics or witty banter or an observation about that weirdo you saw on your way to work. Introduce a point to ponder or use it to complain about a chore. Make me read it and want to comment rather than want to hide your status updates, permanently. Make the status updates a bit of sunshine for those of us trapped in cube village. Make it entertaining, people. That is what a facebook status is all about. Save the ooey gooey details for real life conversation.

Another reason for Nick to roll his eyes

I'm normally on top of Chino's wardrobe, but with the recent medical drama and overall craziness lately, I've been slipping. Don't fret, Chino's summer "outfit" has arrived!!! I might add, just in time for Memorial Day weekend...which is the official kick-off for summer. That's right, break out the white shoes, people. Chino on the other hand, will be transitioning to something a bit more colorful.

Where did I find this wonderful salute to both Delightful and Tacky? Well, I thought you'd never ask. I searched Etsy for "Nylon Dog Collars" and a wonderful shop called Snickle Fritz popped up. In addition to her unique name, she also carries a unique selection of HEAVY DUTY collars. Heavy duty is key here, since certain canines have learned to duck their heads in order to remove themselves from any collar not made with nylon webbing.

So, let's recap. The shop is called Snickle Fritz. The collar has monkeys and palm trees set against a bright yellow background. The store is based in Columbus. Delightful - CHECK. Tacky - CHECK. Local - CHECK. Done and done. How could I resist?

Priceless

In an email from Nick:

1 package Beggin Canadian Cuts – 2.50
1 package Chewnola Bars – 2.50
1 Kong Frisbee - $12.99
1 40 lb. bag dog food - $35.99
Getting 1 package of Beggin Canadian Cuts and 1 package Chewnola bars and saving an additional $10 all while knowing the coupon glory my wife is feeling – priceless.

Crying wolf

I've been known to make fun of Nick for his constant need to call me at any and all phone numbers, when he needs to reach me. There have been days when I hear my cell phone ringing (or vibrating) and then when I don't answer that, my work phone starts ringing, followed by an email with a subject line of "where are you?". He blames it on the fact that my cell phone is only charged or audible about 70% of the time, so he has to contact me by alternate means. I contest that sometimes I just need to be unreachable.

Yesterday was a banner day in connectivity. I spoke to him on my way from work to an event and then we exchanged random texts about Chino's latest and greatest escapades in the back yard (escapades being bowel movements and one of our favorite topics of conversation). See how everything ties back to Chino? After marveling at his latest (Chino's not Nick's) deposit in the backyard, the texts ended as I went back to focusing on my event and Nick headed out to the golf course.

Fast forward to about 9pm. I get home from my event, unpack the car, make some dinner and lay down on the couch to catch up on some trash TV (90210 and Supernanny) and I hear my phone vibrate. Only a text (two buzzes), so I ignored it. Then I hear the phone actually ring, ok - probably my sister - I'll talk to her tomorrow. Then, the house phone rings. I get up in a huff, thinking that someone REALLY must need to get a hold of me. Here's the conversation:

L-Hello?
N-Hi...just wanted to let you know I'll be home in a few minutes.
L-Where are you?
N-On Cheshire Rd., near the vet's office.

~~side note - I just Google mapped and he was calling from approximately 1/2 mile away, so close that Google recommended walking directions in addition to the usual driving route~~

L-Then why are you calling me?
N-To see what you were doing.
L-How about you just ask me when you get here, or better yet, see for yourself?
N-Oh ok - see you in 2 mins.
L-Bye.

While I was up, I decided to check my text messages and/or voicemails. Turns out that he had called at 10:02pm and texted at 9:24pm to tell me that he'd be home in a bit. The actual point at which he called the house was around 10:05pm when I had ignored the other attempted notifications.

This morning, as I'm finishing up my routine, getting dressed and out the door, the house phone rings. I ignored it since I was down in the basement, rummaging through the dryer for something to wear. Next, I hear the familiar buzzz of my cell phone on the kitchen table. I look down and its a random 740-phone number, meaning Nick is calling me from work. I almost didn't answer it, but decided that it was Friday and there was no need for bitchiness before 9am and he wasn't calling from his cell phone, which might mean its important. Turns out that Mr. Connectivity had locked his keys and cell phone in his truck and had misplaced his spare key. Lovely. So I took the detour to his office to unlock the truck and give him some shit, since this is a frequent occurence of his. Key locking, that is. I almost didn't answer my phoneS this moring because of last night's communication escapades.

This post wouldn't be fair unless I acknowledged my own phone stalking tendencies - but I save those for important questions, such as "what's for dinner?" or "can you come pick me up for lunch?"

Almost normal

Now that Chino's stitches are out, and we see the light at the end of this cone-shaped tunnel, its time to look back and laugh at the past three weeks.

A few highlights...

Yesterday, I woke up to find a bra stuck to the Velcro part of Chino's cone. If you know me, you could probably imagine the size of my bra. Poor Chino, I think I scared him half to death when I pulled it off. It was in the morning, he was probably still groggy.

When its time for bed, at least when the stitches were in, Chino had to be carried up the steps. He tolerated this quite well and actually waited for us to pick him up, never trying to make a run for it. On day #1 of being able to navigate them by himself, he looked up at us like, "wait, I have to do this myself?"

Every time Chino goes outside, he must be on a leash, which prevents him from running or jumping and irritating his incision. So here we are, in our fenced in backyard, following behind him as he navigates the dandelions and grass, searching for the perfect spot. This has been going on for three weeks now. I'm sure our neighbors are thinking, WTF!?

Our version of normal officially returns on Friday and I think I'll celebrate by opening the back door and letting a cone-free Chino run free in the backyard, without his "parents" cramping his style.

"Normal" is such a relative term.