Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Being a dog owner

I recently learned something about being a dog owner. The dog is charming, sweet, loyal, handsome. A positively protective and willing to please animal. Until the neighbors cat gets involved. There are hundreds of cats roaming around the area. There is one cat in particular that haunts our back yard. This cat taunts our dog. She sits in high places and meows and hisses at the dog. She jumps down from her perch and goads the dog into chasing her to places the dog can't go. Our dog can be heard, from time to time, trying to flush this cat out from under the deck. The owners of the cat are quite aware that this happens.
The cat also uses our yard for a toilet. She digs in my garden and eliminates there, covering her 'stuff' with my mulch, displacing bulbs, tearing at roots, and killing my plants. She sleeps on our porch and prances around our yard as if it is hers. She hisses and scratchs and nips at my children if they try to pet her - while she is in our yard.
On occassion, my small children open the front door while the dog is in the house. She sees this as the perfect occassion to make a run for it. She knocks the small child over to get out of the front door. Once out there, she doesn't listen to anyone for any reason. No food can tempt her to return to her back yard. Not the promise of a walk. No sweet cajoling with offers of petting or belly scratching. Nothing.
Enter stage right, the cat. The cat is on top of a car, sees the dog, and carrys on her tradition of teasing. The dog, no longer confined to a fenced area, takes off after the cat. The cat jumps off of the car and darts underneath it. The dog ensues, barking, growling and snarling at this cat. The neighbor hears and sees it. Screams at me to get my *nasty words* dog off of his cat.
The dog, for at least 3 years, has yet to catch this cat in it's own yard. The barking, growling, snarling and chasing of the cat by my dog, in the dog's confined space was never a problem. Now, out in the open, it's MY problem. Really?
I make more of an effort to keep the dog inside. The children know to put the dog in the back yard before they open the front door. The dog is very rarely out in the neighborhood.
The cat? She still wanders at will. She still shows up in the yard, teasing the dog. The neighbor still doesn't care that the cat defiles my gardens and riles the dog. My dog still can't catch the cat.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Girls Day

It was girl's day, today. Sorta.
The girls went for hair cuts and accessory shopping and the boys took a picnic and the dog to the river.
We tried a new salon (I like it and the prices are better than the supercuts places). Cheryn was trusted to tell the stylist what she wanted - I vetoed the length and gave her a couple of other options. Marli had the same options. She made a great choice. Her hair looks great! Too great. In fact, I am thinking about either locking her in her room or imposing a pony tail rule. She can only leave the house with a pony tail.
She wanted bangs. I though, sure, bangs are fun. She hasn't had bangs since she was about two. This will be cute. Cute isn't the word. She has long bangs that are swept to the side and her curls are layered and look more like beachy waves. She is beautiful and looks much older than 13. Yikes!

Thursday, April 23, 2009

The gym

The gym is an interesting place. I have put off going for a long time. I didn't want to walk my droopy, flabby self into a place with mirrors all around, toned, thin, tan people staring at themselves and showing off how fit they are. Then, I found this little place that some of my friends have been talking about. Anyone can go there, but their main target is the average american fatso. Really! So, off I go. I sign up and commit myself to this power strength class three days a week. wow! I am gonna do this!
First day was torture. I am sure this instructor is up all hours of the night imagining new ways to torture our under developed little muscles. I left the gym already aching. The day wears on, no problem. Keep moving, I'm told. Keep those lactic acids from building up. The what? Um, okay, I can keep moving. I have six kids. How can anyone with that many kids just sit? It doesn't happen. I even stand to write my blogs in case I have to take care of something in a hurry!
Then, I went to bed and spent several hours lying still. In the morning I got out of bed and nearly died. My body hurt. A lot. It hurt to lower myself onto the toilet seat. I went again for the second round. It wasn't quite as bad, but I don't think I worked very hard, because I could barely move anyway.
The third day at the gym was murder. Different instructor. Female. I swear female fitness instructors are merciless. They talk sweet, but push us to our death. Fortunately, the class is only 45 mintues long, not quite enough to actually get through death's door.
Week two rolls around. I rise at 4 am and go to it again. And again. I am committed! I am excited to be healthier! As for the mirrors, well, I can see how tortured everyone else in the class is and know that I am not alone!