Thursday, June 5, 2008

Growing up isn't easy

Kylee came home from her walk today, took a drink of water and shocked both Morgans at how swiftly the water looked like a boiled egg was waiting to be dyed in. We both admit to shitting ourselves in pure Three Stooges whoop whoop. I went scrambling for my pants thinking we were doomed to repeat the past and rush a dog somewhere for …. whatever it is dogs do to scare their parents.

She literally was dripping blood from her mouth. Not enough that I thought she would bleed out, but to say you saw giant globs of blood all over and did nothing, would revoke my PETA contract. Right? She was dripping pretty damn well. To the point I could smell it quite strongly, which is a very distinct smell. We all know the taste yes, but knowing the smell of a good amount of blood doesn’t remotely compare. No girls, your period does not count. Very different. I think it smells like iron, but I can’t say if I smelled iron I would think it was blood. It’s just…. Can’t miss it once ya know it.

So she’s bleeding and Mr. Morgan has begun to REALLY freak out.

“What did she get into?”
“Rocks.”
“Okay.” knowing that she simply cannot NOT eat rocks. She's a rockeater, like the Neverending Story.

He worries about the blood water bowl as though it’s not a cover for being concerned. The beast’s tail was a-wag, she was plentiful in energy. I grabbed the mouth of my youngest and we had the very first “Mother Knows Best” discussion. Meaning – open your mouth….. we need to take a peek. We almost had this discussion before, but it was simple and entailed me swabbing her mouth for contraband. You’d be surprised how fast I can check a mouth for things that should not be in it (I don’t even have to look at the subject, it’s a movement that is swirlish and probably taught to prison guards) and take the item, commenting on if I thought it was worth the trouble of trying to bite me for it. This is true also when I cared for humans, I've been bitten by dentures and real teeth and each had a few that wouldn't let go, although with dentures they will eventually pull free and you can prance " HA GOT YOUR TEETH!" People like junk in their mouths. I smoke… so … I’m not one to say it’s wrong.

I snagged the bleeder, swabbed a mouth, no items. I looked up at Mr. Morgan and said:

“She lost a tooth.” As I had suspected.
“No way, it wouldn’t have bled like that.”

I looked at him calmly, pissed that he was NO help herding the 30 pound animal who did NOT want her mouth examined, and told him what I saw. This was not easy, and it stank of… like I said… blood. There is an inch and a half side of her mouth where no teeth are. The other side of her mouth has those teeth, so…. logic reigns. I’m now on her “I hate you list.”

She later began to gag and barf, I won’t even try to say I wasn’t looking and hoping that she barfed up a tooth. No luck.

She’s not dead and Mister has had enough of a scare for today, even if it was just a tooth. He is still very fragile about any dog issue and worries like crazy that something will happen again to us, too soon.

-DM

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Update Month Five

Dear Kylee,

Today you are five months and 8 days old. We celebrated by sharing peanut butter sandwiches, nodding and exchanging eye contact that gave us a moment of bonding that clearly said “You like peanut butter and bread, and I like peanut butter and bread.” Kindred moment. I cut you off after two slices, folded in half and you sat for 15 minutes flashing your tongue out like a lizard, but not because you had some of it stuck in your mouth, but rather to display you wouldn’t mind another bite. One last bite? It’s sorta my birthin’ day Mama, just another tiny taste? As you wrap yourself around my legs and gaze up with the hopeful eyes you were born with. Your two most often expressions are happy or hopeful. We sometimes catch you looking surprised, curious and downright in agreement that what you are looking at makes no sense. Your mother has a potty mouth and refers to those things as “what the fuck?” You are a lady though, and would never say such, you say it more with a pause of contemplation followed with “huh?”

You also want to draw.

You torture this one too much. So much that he not only retaliated against one of your pounces, but gave a crazed chase that had you running like a scared rabbit. You deserved it, he had been in a dead sleep and you thought it would be funny to full charge jump on him.

Every day I wake up and say good morning to your brother, your big sister, and you. Your tail begins a wild thump of anticipation when I get within 4 feet of you, and it gives my mornings a warmth I never thought I’d feel again, you are so grateful to be approached. You want your family so desperately that you often overwhelm us. Your big sister is much more independent, you are wherever we are and have the most interesting sideways jump to express your glee when we notice you, as though you were chosen from the crowd in Price is Right. ME???? Oh my god oh my god!


You still have puppy grunts and piglet snorts. We imagine this is your way of wondering why it’s getting so much harder to get up and move about. Case in point, you fell off the bed yesterday with a thundering slam and the shock on your face was the most honest and innocent look of not understanding what happened. You will eventually come to terms with your growth.

Thank you for finally being potty trained, you resisted, furniture had to be moved. I sometimes think your big sister enjoyed having a laugh of us cleaning after you for months, then finally whispered the secret to it all. She is entertained by those sorts of things and I shook a fist at her for it. We aren’t quite sure why you don’t want to be outside in the sunshine, perhaps you are still young and feel a need to be close to others.

Everyone thinks you are gorgeous, none so much as us. We are suckers, and as of this sentence you came in to show me a toy that I bought for you, but you don’t remember and think it’s the first time I’ve seen it, so I told you how cool it was and how I wanted it for myself. You beamed and said I maybe tomorrow I could borrow it.

Then you asked for more peanut butter and I gave it to you.

Love,

Mama

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

I'm too sexy for my face

As we've grown up with our youngest, it's been said more than once than she has a gorgeous face. It's also been said that she "will" have a gorgeous face. To the second remark Kylee has this to say:

She is sleek, well formed and for her breed she doesn't seem to be a monster even if she did spend two days licking Mr. Morgan's leg wound like a vampire. Other blog for THAT story.

Many labs are quite blockheaded, square and darling when little then grow into a confusing skeletal structure. At least that is my take on them. On the play date below, Marley's parents of course thought their dog was equally handsome and I sat back with a "Pffft, as if" face knowing good and well that while Marley isn't ugly... she has nothing on our girl. Don't waste my time, it's ok to have a kid who isn't as good looking, it just happens to be yours. Lol, I didn't say it, but the entertainment of even implying it did, all over my face. One brow up, wondering if people really think their kids are that good looking, human or furrish. I would be ok to say I owned an ugly dog. Child ugly would shock me, but it's entirely possible that two good looking people negate the strategy and produce something resembling a bumpy squash. God likes that sort of humor.

Remember, I didn't chose Little Miss, but much like anything else, things often find a way to pick themselves. I remember that when I saw Leedy, there was no moving me. This is how Mr. Morgan and Kylee also chose eachother. Can't be denied.

While trying not to spoil her too often, I do feed her things from time to time that she doesn't nutritionally lack. This led to me leaving my loft for two minutes and returning to find her in my heat warmed massaging chair, happilly feasting on my lunch getting a mini spa treatment!

Perhaps she thought we had traded shifts.

-DM

Monday, May 26, 2008

Play Date 2

Memorial Day Makeout had been scheduled. The troops were interested, even if it appears that Kylee looks quite worried in the following photo. The horror and trepedition of a day outing could be terrifying, I know I thought so myself.

Simon's leg was acting up and I was a bit nervous of him getting too excited and creating another set back. I also was nervous about my temperment. Very. The Morgan dogs are very well taken care of and questions about their health or behavior get me very upset. Enough that I would buy an animal for anyone who has an opinion to shut them up. We know what we are doing and don't need help correcting or training our dogs. He's old, his knee problems give us more upset than we let on, so we don't like to hear anything except OK. When I say short story "He's elderly, it's been accessed, there is nohing to do except write us a check?" that indicates that by saying if you see him jumping, I'll take him, I need nothing more. Maybe I am just cranky about it.

I've had a few requests about what my step mother-in-law looks like. Here you go, and not a wonder, my dog is in her arms.

Trying to flee.

She has a few traits I don't care for but, it is obvious in the above and in interacting that she is genuine in caring about the dogs even if they didn't ask for it. We've all tried to run from her a few times, no harm no foul. She's actually holding him because I'd barked about not wanting him on the leg, but he really only listens to me with any consistency. Perhaps I scare him more?

The two pups are growing fast! Bottom right I think Simon is pissing on her, or trying to in this one. /applause please. My son! Cmon, it's funny.

Kylee learns peanut butter goodness!

Simon is leary. He has met the peanut butter in the past and know it's for my entertainment. He hides from the spoon as though it is liquid mercury, eyes down, body languange displaying submissive hope that it won't be forced on him. I was kind of stupid because Kyles ate up the spoon contents with sticky chomps then I rubbed Simon's belly with the spoon, not considering this made him even more of the normal treat than he is to her. Sorry Simon.

All had a good time. Why is there a christmas stocking on my floor? Kylee found it and said someone told her a fable about a gent name Santa Claus. What time would he arrive? I said it would be some time and she's drumming her paws on the stocking now and then to remind me that she's not forgotten.

-DM

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Thrash Thursday

When I came home today I delcared it Thrash Thursday as Kylee had eaten and chewed herself into entertainment for the day. Scraps of her eatings were everywhere and my first instinct (after checking for inside poops) was to be angry. I went for something to wave frantically to scare her with when I saw it.

She had brought her OWN beating board.

I was so impressed I couldn't do anything but admire it and wonder how she managed to get it inside. It doesn't look it, but the thing easilly weighs 2 pounds, is two inches thick and wet like it came from a fresh river bank. Apparently determination is one of her skills. The thing is damn near a log and I flipped it in my hands for a few minutes while nodding at her. She pranced with much glee "Look what me got! It's SO cool huh!"

I had to agree that it was.

I called Mr. Morgan and declared it was Thrash Thursday, and he asked who was getting the beating(s?). I replied that the puppy had managed something odd, so I couldn't really string her up like a pinata to see if candy or one of my shoes would come out. He asked what it was and I replied he'd have to not only see it, but feel it's weight to understand what she'd found. Where she found it? No clue unless it was something flung over the fence. Lil Miss Kylee finds things I never knew were invented, and chews my belongings into items that others would never recognize as being invented either. She ate one of my giraffe herd this week and I walked away calmly, muttering affirmations, she is very smart to know how to make up for her no-nos. She doesn't have a job yet, but she wants to earn it in making me tilt my head at the things she manages.

She is quite proud of her ... plank? She's even got some camel cash and bud light in the above photos. A Morgan is a Morgan.......

-DM

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Update - Month Four

Dear Kylee,

Today you are four days shy of your four month birthday. You have quickly gone from this:

To this:

Once being a frightened and timid little puppy you've morphed into a bold girl who enjoys life in the most refreshing, yet exhausting fashion.

You have no idea what is off limits and walk all over us knowing that your worst punishment is being banned to a large backyard with fresh air and bugs to chase. It's torture I'm sure.

Every morning one of us bolts awake, having heard you saunter down the hallway to scope out your favorite inside toilet spot. We once even knocked heads in the scramble to catch you, eyes still glued shut from the Sandman, and arms out in front of us like zombies. You have us trained well.

Like most tired parents, there are times that both your Mother and Father have feigned sleeping or flipped a coin to see who would take care of you and what you've done. The days of your brother being blamed for piles of fun in the house are over. If Simon ever passed anything as large as what you do now I believe with certainty he would have died in delivery.

I do not mention to your father that it was my idea to crate train you, and perhaps would have thrawted the giant morning discoveries that make me swear a horse snuck into the house overnight to defecate in the living room. He threw a tantrum that even you would step back from and be impressed by, because he swore it was mean and you would cry.

Puppy Porn!

You also like television and remain left handed. We often are caught off guard by one of your left hooks, you are very slappy and use your arms for almost everything in the way a grizzly bear does by wrapping yourself around whatever item (usually one of our limbs or your brother) you want to play with.

You still love to sit under my computer desk and stare at me, but lately with a very confused look of why it is shrinking. You seem to resent your space betraying you.

But you are helpful. When Mama eats, there you are with a napkin for me.

We have a wonderful surprise coming for you, your first pool! It will take some tailoring because you are not only fond of water, but also of wires. We have not yet explained electricity to you and worry you will zap your chewy ass across the lawn. Or munch on the pump tubes and woooooosh yourself there.

It takes about 3 hours of long walks and runs to wear you out, but you still found time to destroy 3 pair of summer sandals. You insist it was only 3 shoes, but I can't mix-match them, they come in pairs. You think I'm silly and vain and should just wear whatever is in the closet, even if vastly different colors and heights. No one would think you had a limp! you proudly exclaimed.

Today was the first time you saw yourself in the mirror and you frowned. I mean you REALLY frowned. Your brow deepened in thought and as predicted, you slapped the mirror screaming "make it go away immediately!" I have no idea what bothered you about it, but I haven't seen you in this room since. When you want something, being spoiled as you are, you cock your head and pull a move that clearly implies we are not living up to your time expectations.

That's when Dad scrambles to serve you and I call you names..... in Spanish. I have to be careful though, because as seen above, you do watch TV and spent quite a while with the Dora marathon. I saw your eyes light up and your interest in the songs. Dora is on the clean rainbow but if you learned to put a few words together you might figure out that I'm saying unflattering things in the incorrect conjugation about both you and your birth mother.

We enjoy you and sneak around often to see what you are doing because after all, your growing size and energy doesn't leave much question to your location. We lean into eachother and beam, "She is so key-yoot!"

Magic wand comes out and you let the carpet know that you care too. Be good.

Love,

- Mama

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Weekend Update

Simon feels better enough to come along, but we were prepared to carry him should that knee act up. The guilt of leaving him hits us much like a semi-truck at 60 miles per hour. He is the one who looks like a stray rabbit.

Kylee lives to collect random shit. I know I've mentioned this, but when does it get old? Especially when she has more than once brought me money. You can see from the photo below that her coat is fast turning into a swim dog. It has a zig-zag thickness to it. Her sweet face has not changed, and she is all about being the best girl she can. Which needs inprovement.

I mentioned on the main blog that 12 feet of fencing went down in a wind storm. We have beat that thing to death, and it finally coughed and died. The posts went to rot. I came home. No dogs. Panic set in. "Dogs!" I yelled. They were next door, dancing the salsa and saying Look Mom! Expansion!"

Father and daughter at play. It looks it, but no Simon is not on crotch patrol.


-DM