Because stolen bread tastes best.

Too tired to face her sentence for theiving bread goodness.

-DM

Kylee Goes to Doctor

Kylee met Doctor today! He wondered why she wasn't prepared to flop a giant blood ear tumor onto his floor. I jest, because we did from nervousness of being in the room we last (not me) saw Delilah in. We adore this doctor and we took a great deal of his time, to which he didn't once look at his watch. Everyone loved Kyles, and she naturally told him she was his queen until the needles came out.

We were offered the full "Puppy Pack" meaning cash and ... stuff. It came with a toothbrush, food, treats and a photo entitled "Kylee's first Vet Visit" as if I wasn't there snapping. They are good people. She has some heartworm junk to eat up, but for today, she's had enough. Better yet it came with a discount for her spay, which I grin at. I do not want "first heat" thank you.

I didn't check ass, my own fault. Simon was smuggling an impacted turd that I swear the vet. tech was staring at. Is he so old he can't clean his butt anymore? I am certain she was staring at it, no matter how I cradled it to hide that the brother dog came with a nasty ass.


Sorry there, no clue why it's all underlined, and I'm too tired to retype it.

She's medicated and currently playing a great game of being dead. We foot her from time to time to check for respirations. She's fine, just tired. Like me and I still have another blog to address.

-DM

Kylee goes walking..and gets a new Name

We went walking. While Dad went into the store, both Morgan children were keenly concerned he left us for dead, and pouted as though Mama would eat them were the abandonment be true.

While we 3 waited, the bottle of water I'd brought for the camels rolled out of my pocket and into the drive path. I didn't think much of it, Mr. Morgan would be right back and didn't think there was a rush to get it.

Wrong.

Mr. Morgan found this particular incident reason to giggle non-stop for a few hours. I was really bummed as it was one of my favorite travel bottles. I think the driver aimed for it. Jerk.

No idea what's he's feeding her.

Kylee loves to pick up newspapers! Trouble with that is that they are not hers. Again "not your property." I tell her but she says if it's in her path of walking, it most certainly is fair game.

Not sure whos' but she brought home the paper for a good half mile after this photo. She REALLY wanted to catch up on current events. I would have taken it from her, but she would have found another. If she could fit a dozen of them into her mouth in one haul she'd be happy to do it.

She brings us things all the time. Last night she brought Dad's large nail clippers to me. And a full sized broom. I gave her appreciation because I'd been ... ya know.... looking for both.

-DM

I was told I could give Kylee a middle name. I thought long on this. I decided on Theodore, even though Mr. Morgan exclaimed it's masculinity. I do know babe, but thanks. She is Kylee Theodore because of the below example. Terror by day, but by night, she is perched on our heads with hiccups and won't move an inch without an adult escort. That is the Theodore in her.



ps - to BLD Simon request noted, he is in dire need of a hair cut first. He will most certainly get his time to shine, I haven't forgotten my WeeMan.

Easter Bunny who?

My Easter bunnies were busy this weekend. They even went on an egg hunt, but it was more like fishing bad McDonald's eggs out of their bowls. Kylee does not believe in the Easter bunny, she believes in bags that Mom and Dad come into the house with. Very pragmatic.

Getting Kylee used to the fact that she has a long life ahead of Mama dressing her.

Stealing. I admit I set it next to her for the photo, but was stupid not to expect her to take off with it.


Happy first Easter Kylee.

-DM

Update March 19th

Dear Kylee,

Today you are two months and sixteen days old. You were eight pounds when you came home, and while I tried to measure your height today, there was no difference, but the scale proves you are less than starving.


You continue to steal, or how you explain it "collect" things. The phrase "not your property" has become a constant from my mouth, your Father will let you chew anything and finds a great new excuse each time. To hear him defend you, you are a war veteran collecting the benefits owed to you for service.

Your mother has an odd sense of humor and wickedness, so you steal it.... you wear it.

You have also found a very sincere insterest in the toilet. Your little head turns in circles watching the water go down, and I haven't been mad at you for pooping in the bathroom because you've sniffed that it is the place we do it. You are very smart.

So smart you creeped me out today after playing a long round of Duck. You layed down, tired, resting your neck on the Duck and slept for for about 20 minutes then vanished. I went to look for you and that Duck was back in the toy box. You cleaned your room, respectively. I stood frozen for a moment, honestly baffled and scared I had a black out and did it myself but no, you returned your toy to your treasure chest.

I have to think it was in your mouth when you went for a different toy for a trade off, but all toys were accounted for. You are my kind of dog! What else can you do?

You still protest violently to being contained. I often pin you down with my legs until you can be a reasonable Kylee, but this only aggrevates you more.

You've easilly mastered sitting, which you do while eating because it is a hard thing to do after all. When we feed you, you defer to your brother without hesitation as he travels back and forth from each bowl. This makes us very happy as food aggression is not something I will tolerate. It's natural to you to want to be Simon's sister, you are just still too much for him. He likes you and follows you around, even though he growls two seconds later, it's only because he also wants to be your friend but you jump on him and he's not the kind who wants that. He'd prefer a sniff buddy.

Your tiny face is changing into a growing brown ball of adolescence. So early! Too early for me.

I still think you are gorgeous, even when you bite me and don't understand why I yelp. It's the same as you not understanding why I make you take a bath, or go outside when it's ass cold in the morning to potty. Tit for tat Kylee.

Be good.

Love,

Mama

Sheep that shouldn't bite

Daddy bought Miss Kylee a toy! Sheep! We all love sheep.

It was immediate tackle fest for the sheep.

Both well have their mouths set on winning rights to the sheep. Kylee appears to have taken illegal drugs in anticipation based on her facial expression.

Simon, finally relented, and said "Fuck it, I've seen way better sheep anyway."

Her prize in tote.... she promptly bit me tonight. So hard that I threw a tandrum on the level I thought neighbors might get involved if anyone in this house DARE talked to her, pet her, or even acknowledge her for at least ten minutes. And I was watching that damned timer. Her mouth shuts on you unexpectantly, and it's not as though I was dangling a limb to chew on, and her jaw locks up ... almost like she's looking to store meat in a storm shelter. You have to pry her off, and no, cursing threats of beatings does nothing ... she thinks we're all talk because basically... we are.

Mr. Morgan carried her in, wearing a only a towel - him not her, and her head was thrown back, her little pink tongue dangling and wiggling in hopes to tell me she was sorry by way of kissey. I accepted and the entire Morgan clan lumbered to the kitchen to see what sort of treats, and lunch and supper could be available.

Still wearing that sweet "I could never do wrong face" Reference -


.... she leapt into the air and bit my cheek. Mr. Morgan saw this and lost it on her with an endless You Suck! We hate you! Pack your shit, you're out! Ok..... he just freaked on her and thundered NO a great many times to make her feel like an asshole for biting Mom twice in one hour, but she'd likely promptly forgot what she'd done to start with.

The face bite upset him and I'm glad. She's a baby, she leaps, she hops and she chews. Face biting is going to get her little ass caged no matter what he says if it continues. I almost laugh because it shocked me so much I began to cry. My eyes watered up and my brain didn't know how to react to being bitten on the face. I know.... huh? I didn't even want to yell. I looked at Simon, and in Russian he said "I saw it, that's bullshit. Let's kill her."

-DM

PlayDate

The pups had a play date on Saturday. We had several levels of competition! Simon would win the Bronze just for showing up.

Meet Marley.


Kylee meets her Grandparents.


She immediately had to show Marley her property, and boast how cool her wares were. "Look at all my STUFF!"

Then much like her mother, when Marley made a selection from the toy box......

Kylee screamed a frantic MINE!

Marley, being twice Kyles size had no trouble with the wrestling tournment.

Hide and Seek time! Can't get what you can't see?

Last game.... let's play a round of Duck!

Simon is in there. It's a three-tiered game of duck, Big, Middle, Little.



Puppies wearing down a little.

Why do you keep after me Marley?

Because I love you Kylee!

-DM

Let's get ready to Rumble!!!!!!

Here is our fighter! Kylee was ready to be famous in the program for the Boxing Team of our state. Her sponsorships were in, (thanks mom) but came too late by mere hours. She still gloved up to cheer the Pack on on!

Warm ups.

Oh she's concentrating.

She's ready to go.

Bring it!


Saying the pre-fight prayer. I've met this fighter and my every last dollar is on her.


Simon, prefers baseball.


-DM

(appreciation to the cute ass tiny boxing gloves lent to me)

Two Heads, One Duck

The kids at play.

She already drags Simon around like a wet sock, he has to really dig in and pitch extra effort to have a chance at winning a round of Duck.

Kylee was introduced to carrots. She met this new food like she greets everything - with her mouth trustingly open.

Very soon after this photo she threw up, thankfully, in the kitchen. What came up made me think of a national geographic program where a snake barfs up something 15 times it's size. Kylee managed to swallow one of those rawhide bones with the knots on the ends. Impressive it went down, and more impressive that it came up instead of prompting her first visit to the vet to prove how irresponsible we are. There is also a puddle of love next to her in the above shot, even though she is not but two inches from the acceptable place to potty.

We're trying, and she was sorry she threw up, but was back begging carrots within 30 seconds. She thanks her Ount Sue for the wholesome grub, lord knows all we come home with is bologna.

-DM

Thirsty?

Oh my god, it's a box! What's for ME?

Here is Kylee watching the Jonestown documentary with me. She is as baffled and upset as I am. Why Jim, why. I don't know how to answer her question, no matter the sweet eyes that don't understand. I would like to keep her innocent a bit longer.

-DM

To Kylee - 1

There is another site that writes quarterly, monthly, updates directly to their child, and I thought the style was interesting so...

----
Dear Kylee,

I never had any interest in bringing another dog into this world, but how can you not love one that is already here. Today you are two months and 7 days old.

We measured you merely nine days ago. You became a Morgan on 2/23/08. Against what your father said, I insisted you be measured again because I have been closely watching your legs and they are getting longer at the pace of a bullet.

Look how much you have grown! In nine damned days.

We are not giving you steriods, but I did pause long enough to approach the bag of food you are being fed to check. When I suggest your portions be controlled, your father glares at me as if I was trying to starve you concentration camp style. "She LIKES to eat!" he tells me.

You most certainly do and eagerly devour anything given to you with no hesitation, unlike your brother, who must gauge what he will actually be able to chew. You share that trait with your older sister.

You are a terror to your brother, and have aged him five years seemingly overnight. You do not understand that he doesn't want to play when you want to, and that biting, hopping and galloping makes him want to get away from you. He is quite used to the gentle way Delilah respected his wee size and how she delicately would let him have first dibs on everything and never hurt him, even when playing. You will learn to be nicer, we know you can't help yourself, even your big brother knows, but doesn't have to like you when you are full on attacking. He's old... be nice and don't get mad at us when we say that you had it coming because he retaliates.

You seem to want to learn the rules of the house, but then you act out angrilly. This morning you were bored and launched yourself into my face, mostly my nose, and attached those barbs of yours to my nose-stud and managed to pull hard enough to part me from a dead sleep into a whapping of dog. You flew several feet back from instinct as if shocked that it was attached to my face.

You love shoes. All shoes. Every shoe. Gimme shoe! I have photos of you laying on shoes of all makes, sizes, smells and gender. When you wake up you make a crazy little noise of a yawn that forgives the things you did earlier. It also prompts us to rush you outdoors as quickly as possible.

You know your name, and respond to it well. You don't always do what follows your name, but you are alert and perk to it in the way that makes it clear you are quite aware who you are.

Your paws are huge, and your rate of growth gives me pause because I don't trust you being 70 pounds and biting. I know you are an infant, and I am relying on every resource I can grab to get you to mind before that happens.

Your big sister is proud of you, and laughing at me.

Love,

Mama