Because I was out of town for the DC Shorts Film Fest, I was away from my dog Freya for five days. It was rough y’all. I went into serious doggie withdrawal - so much so that I turned into a squee-ing crazy woman every time we passed a dog on the streets of DC.
On the flip side, I don’t think my girl missed me one bit. Since our parents are awesome, they drove up to my brother’s house where we siblings were meeting for our trip and collected all three of their granddogs to spoil rotten while we were gone. When I was reunited with Freya, she was all, “Now, who are you again?” So this week I’ve been especially susceptible to adorable dog videos. I thought I’d share my two favorites for a laugh heading into the weekend.
The first is a new commercial from Volkswagen. I only saw it for the first time a few days ago, but it’s been airing pretty steadily. Cracks me up every time.
The second is a video a friend of mine posted on Facebook (thanks, Dora!) and it actually makes me giggle-snort.
Freya sometimes has problems with her dew claws, and I’ve had to tape socks on her legs to keep her from chewing them, and she does this same kind of crazy walk. Now I wish I had recorded her doing her funky dance moves.
What did you think of the two videos? Have you ever put boots or socks on your dogs? How did they react? Should I feel bad for laughing at the dogs’ reactions?
For the most part, it seems my Willy-nilly Wednesdays have turned into an excuse to talk about the Rish family dogs. So why change that today? I bet you’re now thinking that P stands for pooch. Well, you’d have the first three letters right. Because today I have to confess a secret. A dark secret that brings me shame. You see, my sweet Freya, my beloved four-legged child… is a poo eater. That’s right, she eats poop. Doodoo. Kaka. Whatever you want to call it, she loves the stuff.
It’s especially distressing because in the long line of smart dogs my family has owned, she’s definitely the smartest (yes, I know all parents/dog owners think this). Besides all the standard commands, she does a bunch of fun tricks like ‘take a bow’ and ‘say your prayers’ although the truly impressive part is how fast she learns them. She also does things like breaking into locked food cupboards even though she lacks opposable thumbs. So why, oh why, can’t I stop this spectacularly disgusting habit?
It started when she was ‘a teen’, and I immediately ran to my best friend Google to find out why my precious baby would do something so nasty and how to stop it. I discovered the official term is coprophagia (OMG, there’s an actual word for it *gags a little*) and that there are a variety of reasons for it both medical and behavioral. I took her to the vet, and he ruled out any medical issues and offered a few behavioral things to try. None of them worked. So now I have to live with the fact that my dog thinks doodie is a delicacy. We actually call them her chocolate cigars because she carries them around for a while with the ends sticking out of her mouth before she chows down.
Because she is so smart and because I start screaming like a banshee every time I see her pick up a log, she knows she’s not supposed to do it. So now she’s like a junkie after her fix. She skulks around the yard, looking for a pile that didn’t get picked up; and when she finds one, she glances around to make sure no one’s watching, snags the treasured turd, and races away with an expression we call her patented poop face. My sister snapped this picture of the expression mid-snack. It would be kind of adorable if you didn’t know she was dining on dookie.
But like any mom, I love my baby no matter what . . . I just don’t let her kiss my face after she’s been outside.
Have any of your dogs ever enjoyed partaking in chocolate cigars? Did any methods work for you in breaking the foul habit? How Playful (or Poopy-faced) does Freya look with her letter P?
On this Willy-nilly Wednesday, I’m talking about jeans. And not just any ol’ jeans.... On my most recent birthday, I opened a present from my brother and sister to discover a pair of pajama jeans. I didn’t know what to think. In fact, my heart kind of sank: I’d become the type of person my siblings thought should own a pair of pajama jeans - that couldn’t be a good thing. I’d seen the infomercials, I’d heard comedians make fun of them, and they seemed like the ultimate symbol of, “Hey, I’ve given up and don’t give a crap anymore.”
After I quit work to write full time, I tried not to let myself become a pajama-wearing hermit. Even though I’d prefer to stay in my PJs all day, I change into actual clothes every morning. Now I’ll admit I put on equally comfy items like yoga pants or jogging clothes, but I do maintain the distinction between sleeping clothes and being awake clothes. And when I leave the house, even for a quick trip to pick up some milk, I fancy myself up by putting on a pair of jeans and smearing on some lipstick. So even though I’m not wearing the professional outfits and full makeup I used to wear, I’ve tried not to descend into complete lazy-slob mode. That’s why when I opened that box to find the pajama jeans, I worried I’d let myself go more than I thought.
But I’m not gonna lie – those things are awesome! They are so comfortable, and unless you’re up close, you really can’t tell they’re not real jeans. So now when I’m out in the yard and see my neighbors, I don’t feel that twinge of embarrassment I did with my other comfy pants. The best part? They make my butt look AMAZING! Seriously. My butt has always been a problem area. In my teens and twenties, it was so nonexistent it was practically concave. As I've put on extra pounds in my thirties, it skipped over juicy and went straight to flabby. However, the pajama jeans make my butt look round and firm - I guess it’s both the cut and the stretchy material. I haven’t been brave enough to wear them out and about yet, but if I can’t find a regular pair of jeans that makes my hind end look that great, then you might spot me prancing around town in a pair of pajama jeans.
And while we’re on the subject of jeans, it’s time to reveal the Rish family dog genes. Thank you to everyone who participated in the contest! It’s been fun seeing all the guesses. They were in line with the breeds we guessed before we got the results, especially so many picks of Labrador for Bailey and Freya. In fact, we figured they were both Husky/Lab mixes, so similar to other designer mutts being crossbred, we called them our Huskadors – but it turns out not a drop of Lab between them. The results show just how sneaky genes can be!
Although they use drawings rather than actual photos, I’ve pulled the official breed pictures from the American Kennel Club site.
My A-to-Z agenda shows it’s Willy-nilly Wednesday and the letter is D, so I figure everyone who’s previously visited my blog is betting I’m going to post about Dogs. Wrong! I’m posting about DNA. Well… it’s actually about doggie DNA, so I guess you were right after all. Your prize? Adorable pictures of dogs! And that’s not all… if you keep reading until the end, you have a chance to win an actual physical prize!
My baby is seven years old today. I can’t believe how fast time is flying. It seems like just yesterday she was learning not to pee on the floor. Although to be honest, I’m not really sure today is her birthday – it’s just a rough estimate and an easy day to remember to celebrate. My pride and joy was found on the side of the road, so her history is a mystery. I adopted Freya in March of ‘05, and the vet guessed she was about three months old, so December 1st became her special day. My sister’s dog Molly and my parent’s dog Chloe also share the December 1st birthday. Chloe was adopted the same day from the same shelter, while Molly was adopted 4 years earlier.
Whoo hoo, I’ve now finished my first round of the writers' campaign blog trail - I’ve visited/commented/followed/friended/circled/linked everyone in my horror, suspense/thriller, and YA groups. I’ve seen so many funny/insightful/informative/enjoyable blogs the last few days and met some really great people. It’s been fun, but it has turned my brain into a whirling, seething mass of goo. And now I really need to post something new to entertain my new visitors, but of course I’m drawing a blank. It’s probably stage fright knowing all these new friends are watching.
While reading though all the lovely comments, I saw several people were supportive of my weakness for putting party hats on dogs. Either that or they were just being kind to avoid chasing the weird girl back into her corner. So I decided to do what any proud parent does when someone shows the slightest interest in their ‘children’… pull out pictures!
For the record, all five of these dogs are not mine. Freya is my girl, Lily and Chloe belong to my parents, Bailey is my brother’s handful, and Molly owns my sister. So the hat obsession is not a Jocelyn thing, but a Rish thing. Enjoy!
Lily looks so sweet in her party hat that Freya and Chloe are giving her kisses. It has nothing at all to do with the fact that Lily is a messy eater and the other two are keeping her clean.
Bailey does not like to share.
Chloe has always been a rebel, so she wears her hat with style.
I can read doggie minds. Molly is clearly thinking about how much fun she’s having. The phrase “I keel you!” never once passed through her brain.
The reward for all this adorable humiliation? Delicious cakes made from canned dog food and doggie treats.
And it’s not just birthdays….
But I promise, putting hats on the dogs is as far as we go . . . or is it?!?
Do you dress up your pets in any way? Do they like it or do they give you sad face? Or did you quit reading halfway through to run find the number of the Humane Society to report the crazy hat lady?
Babblings of a Boob Tube Junkie
I’m a writer and filmmaker exploring the magic of stories. I’ve always loved to read and watch television and movies, and now I'm creating my own stories via YA novels, short stories, screenplays, and even short films. I’m also an animal lover with a menagerie of pets; and, yes, I’m one of those people who puts party hats on their dogs and makes them “cakes” for their birthdays.
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My Short Films
If a cat predicted your death, how would it change your life?
A greedy party girl is so determined to get what she wants that she employs the dangerous magic of a Gullah root doctor.
Blogging from A to Z Challenge