Runs in the Family

Kylee spent her time well this weekend. She got drunk. We came home to find her leaning against the couch thinking about who her REAL friends were. As ever, click to enlarge the look of comtemplation on her face. She isn't sure at this point and by morning, NO ONE was her friend for not cutting her off early. Drinking has such phases, it starts with Wooooo this is fun! Then comes the belly check and the belch that might defy you. Lastly comes the "no one loves me phase."

She is clearly an angry drunk and had destroyed some things during this thinking.

Then.... what do a good many drunks do? They play baseball.

No idea which child lost this in my yard, but she owns it now.

I have told Mr. Morgan often to pick his bottles off the floor (yes sigh, floor) but he doesn't and a Corona was far too tempting to walk past.

-DM

Baptism

Those who steal must wash away their sins. This was shot as I screamed "Drop it!!" and jumped about stomping my wet feet in glee. Then of course I performed a proper speech repenting her bad doings. It was short, pretty much consisting of "Stop doing that."

Today Kylee ate the phone. The last of the only phone we have, which could have been a mercy killing, as it was a piece of shit since it's moment of going to factory. Regardless, she ate the damn thing and when I asked why she calmly explained that she was simply trying to call one of us and no one could "hear her now." To punish and express frustration she completely taught it a lesson in being useless.

I have a few people and items to send her way if she wants to be in charge of uselessness destruction.

I've come to an idea that I'm still tossing around. We have been thinking for a few months that she is afraid of the dark. I think I want to retract that. She's not afraid of it, she can't SEE in it. Watching very carefully I have seen her drop something inches from her in a darkened setting and she goes nuts sniffing for it. I hand it to her and she hops in elation "Oh my god, thank you so much I thought it was forever gone." I did this a few times. Same result.

We had been leaving the garage light on for her and there had been no inside accidents. The bulb burned out and instead of going outside, she relieves herself at the last point of light. I'm not certain, but I think my puppy is broken.

Send it back, newer, better, SMALLER puppy! I will have no defective puppy! She smiles warmly at me and raises an eyebrow wondering if I'm serious. Ok ok fair enough, Mama is decfective too, but she has a job - so take that!

- DM

Poached Please

Dear Kylee,

Today you are almost six months old. You are fairly clumsy and make no regrets, just like your mother. If people except us to maintain gait, well.... they are talking to the wrong pair. I have a bit of lead on you, but only by years.... you will likely catch up to me and we'll trip, fall, bruise ourselves and both look shocked together.

I told you the theme of 2008 Halloween and you promply auditioned.

Malice in Wonderland indeed!

But Malice doesn't have a receeding hair line, sorry baby girl you are destined to be a Tweedle.

You are giant and have gotten picky about your kibble. I suspect it is because you've been spoiled on human food. Tonight you tasted the first Sunday breakfast of your brown little life. I used to make Sunday break'in-fest for Leeds and the Pickle, of course for Mr. Morgan too, but I throw in 4 extra eggs so that all Morgans may enjoy the day with proper bellies. We normally do this around the time other people have break'in-fest, but Dad's tummy wasn't exactly interested until evening. You met my eggs with serious skeptisism. It was an egg bomb! - your face said. A trap! When you finally gave in and decided that potential death was worth the risk, all I saw was a blink of tongue and egg was gone. So were you.

It was prompt that you came back blaming your brother for eating your share. You remain a terrible liar.

I want to think it's because I'm a terrific cook, but I've found you with poop in your mouth, so I'm hardly flattered. You are being good for the most part, sometimes I think you are so damn smart and other times I think you are winging it and falling into credit by accident.

You wake me up every morning with a careful lick to my foot, as if to say "I'm up Mama let's play!" And boy do you sit at the end of the bed hoping that sweet lick will stir me. Then you pout when I scream "WHAT!" You'll have to forgive mom for not being a good waker-upper.

Trust me, both of your parents wake up looking for you and come to pet you like a moth to light while your brother yawns on, he's met you.

You definitely have a nice life, and seem to appreciate it. When approached you tumble to the ground belly up, wishing for affection. For that I give you a solid nod. You haven't a fear in the world and I like to take credit for your parents giving you so much security that you worry about nothing. It's a bit scary how fierce I've become over you, I'd be one of those mom's who throw cars like superman when their offspring is in harms way. Quite unexpected, but I suppose feeding and grooming a little beast will do that to a person. You fell into a difficult position by helping your dad move on, and by me not entirely wanting to see your face because it wasn't hers. You've done such with great dignity and eager wanting to be embraced. You walk into a room screaming "I'm Kylee!" and you strut that brown waggy tail. I love that about you.

Get ready little one, my holiday is upon us, brace for the costume assault.

Love,

Mama.

Thoughts on Kylee

Kylee is ready, time wise, for her spay. Mr. Morgan unexpecedly annouced that he thinks he might want to breed her.

Pardon?

We had made the decision long prior. I had a hard enough time buying a purebred dog, and to produce more hungry purebred mouths? No. He said:

"Don't you want a little Delilah?"
"No, I had one. I also don't want to look Kylee in the face and know her flower is gone."

The breeders we got Kyles from bred mama Yabby on first heat..... eep!!!! Absolutely not, this girl is to stay a virgin. I comprimised and bought a dog, he can comprimise and understand how hard that was for me, and that he will NEVER have another Leedy. I know he dumps so much of his lingering upset into Kylee, but this is Kylee love.... not LeedyBeat. It hurts me too babe, more than you. I still glare at the puppy when she chews on Lilah's half eaten bone, I want to take it away and someday I just might.

But she truly is a good and loyal beast with a loving spirit. She worries that Simon might not be getting enough to eat and completely defers to him.

Even when she wants it for herself SO much. Must enlarge for the true "God that looks delicious" expression below, but she shows no agression whatsoever. Even with an ass beating on the line for it, it's not in her to be territorial. Good girl, there is enough to go around.

She really really gives the Russian a hard time, but it's just the puppy in her. I don't want to see my girl with teets hanging to the floor, and herding a batch of little whiners for the sake of Mr. Morgan wanting to have her offspring for himself. I think it's more prudent to hit the kennels. If that isn't ok, call and see if Mama Yabby is expecting. Kylee is not a farm for babies, even if her temperment is exemplary and she is gorgeous. It's not what I signed up for.

She is still having accidents, still scared of the dark. She hates shame and understands it crisply. She is much like a child who knows they did bad and lurks in a hallway waiting to be accepted back into the fold to apologize, then bathes you in "omg omg I reallllllllly love you" kisses. All you see is one eye peeking around a doorway, hoping for acknowledgement. It's like the world stops to her when she is in trouble. She gets disoriented and doesn't know what to do but wait for the eye contact that says she isn't hated.

I'm quite more stern, we still don't hit, but damn she's big enough that has to be dragged because she runs. Tail tween legs and ass ahead of her face like a cartoon character. Mr. Morgan just looks at her and says "are you sorry? Ok, have some cheese"

What the???? She ate expensive junk by climbing, it's not like I left in on the floor. She can do no wrong. But .. whatever, let the puppy be one.... with only a few simple rules from Mom.

-DM

Round ... Many, and your first 4th

Dear Kylee,

We repeat "steal it you wear it". Fo the many-ith time! This time you stole panties. It's ok that you want to be a girly girl. I'll buy you some, honest if you will leave my underwear alone. Equal quality, I promise.

It's a bit disconcerning how much you enjoy them though. Those were not clean, not that Mama is nasty but you bee-lined for the dirty pile.

Firework Time! We watch from our porch, it's handy, visible and otherwise perfect.

Prior, I asked my fellow patriots to indulge me. The Russian cares not unless it means a live chicken chase as reward. I indicated this was reasonable and possible. But since he doesn't speak english, I later told him I lied. THAT, he understood and scowled off with his thumb of a tail giving me the universal finger.

Here we fight for the shot I wanted. We each had a flag, and of course you had to be the pain in the ass. "Get the photo, and fast!"

Stop eating the Russian. He is a friendly today.

Look what you did Kylee! Your mother is a sweaty mess trying to get you to play with the rest of the team! In the background, so you don't have to ask.... is a chunk of wall she ate. Why? (Only Kylee knows why she went mid wall to satisfy herself.)

But "Battle Born" Nevada you are.... carrying our state flag.

More on my main blog.... today, you are Proud to be an American, as you fill your craw with meat cheese and other things any animal ought not have if they want to live. We humans should take a note on that.

Hope all had a happy 4th.

-Love Mama

- DM

Beavers.

Mr Morgan went out to weed whack this morning, it was greeted like a game. I've never seen anything hop so fervently, except perhaps a gazelle under chase. I had been outside in my pajamas, rolled up hoping for sunshine while this miracle happened. I told everyone to pause while I got the camera. No one stood still. She thought the weed wacker was a game. While I deeply care, I admit I sat watching with my lense in action should she lean too close after being told no 50 times.

Pool is clean! Green be gone! We blew up my floaty and dunked the dogs swiftly, as it was hot outside and much like with Leedy, we still think it's funny.

Kylee went frantic.

She could not find the OUT area and began to cry. We are rather conerned she might try to take a dip when we are working, but also doubt it since she has little insterest if we aren't in it.

Simon.... tolerating me as usual.

He gets very warm too with the coat he was born with, I have to think it's a blessing, even if he thinks it's punishment at the time., Thus the language barrier.

That dark splotch is Kylee diving as though she is a gator.

Then begging for the spot on my floatie. Click on any to enlarge, all of the Simon's looks like he's been left for dead. God love a wet little dog, they simply shrink.

All for this weekend.

-DM

Update - 5 Months, again.

Dear Kylee,

Today you are seemingly STILL five months old because your mother cannot count. You have had a very angry week, and are out for vengence if we do not give in to your demands. You resent me for taking items from your mouth that need not be in there.
I am happy to bribe you, but it comes with a cost. I am really interested to hear what you'd say about your living conditions or your housemates, I may call your bluff.

All week you've worn a look of frantic craze. Were you slipped something Mom should be aware of? Everything you see is like the first time anyone could have ever seen it. You look at it, then at me saying "Did you SEE that? Oh my god, we need one of those, Mama my heart is empty without one." Then you forget, much like your upright counterparts do as children.


You brought that above .... whatever it is other than wood, thing inside today. We all can see the door, you must have really put forth effort! You remain quite proud and possesive of your findings. We still often quarrel over some of them because they belonged to me before you "found" them. I got the photo, impressed as usual at your ability to navigate a large object through a small entrance and you got pissed.

Really Pissed. That is your MINE! Get the fuck away from my stuff! face. (click to enlarge the face - she really is pissed!) You saw me making a move and went ape. I danced a little hoping you'd stop looking. You didn't. I took it anyway, I'm not scared of you. So you fought me for it and we almost went another round of Battledome over the thing. You then chased me outside as I tried to find which part of the fence you got it from, fiercely defending what you felt was rightfully yours. I could have smacked you with it and ran, but instead I held it over my head taunting you. "Want this don't-cha?" I never did find where you got it from.

Here is your mom laughing at you. I wish my life was just about a wood plank.

And here is your mom forcibly turning you Chinese.

You are mad this week, but in the next you are going to have a reason. Your father is beside himself about it. I called about your spay for a general idea on cost and I was asked how much you weighed.

I asked if ovaries were charged by the pound. It really took me off guard and that's what fell out of my mouth.

"No no it's because of the anethesia and pain medication."
"Okay...how much for say..... two ovaries, one uterus, and couple of felopian tubes and stitches on a 32 pound dog - but she's been eating since the last weigh."
"Hold on."

/listens to the on hold music.

"About 250, but less the 15 percent discount for the puppy plan."

Which was something offered to us and Mr. Morgan pounced on, Puppy Plan? Spare no expense! Sigh.

I blinked for a while and wondered if dinner and a movie came with it. That's not cheap! Then I scowled at you later for having such expensive girly parts. You hopped. Not for long my little cricket.
Maybe next update you will have found your peace with the Dog Gods and not be so angry, you have nothing whatsoever to be bitchy about. When you behave this way I gaze at you with a "you are SO kidding." coutenance. Then tell you to get lost and grow up. Your mom doesn't make the connection between being a kid and LIVING to be one. You are very lucky sweetie, and it's exactly what we want for you, to never have a single worry in the world. Last night I dreamt we had 7 of you, and we couldn't control YOU let alone 6 others. Be appreciative, and nice.

Love,

Mama