Puppy Chow Arm

Casie was out of town for work all week so it was just the boys running the place.  The second evening she was gone I had to open a new bag of dog food.

Jackson is a little obsessed with food.  He acts like he hasn't eaten in days every time we feed him, and he always frantically looks for more food as soon as he finishes eating.  To help minimize the amount of time he obsessively looks for food we got an airtight, 5-gallon container that we dump the entire bag into.  As I opened the bag and poured it into the container I realized I left the scoop at the bottom of the container.

I could have just found a new scoop and waited until we got to the bottom of the container in a few weeks to get the scoop back, but that's not how we do things when it's just Jackson and me running the place.  We cook frozen food and eat it in the living room on disposable dish ware, and we find the dog food scoop no matter how ridiculous it seems.

So, as Jackson anxiously paced behind me trying to figure out why he wasn't eating his precious food, I dug my hand into the food and began fishing around for the scoop.  As far as I was concerned Jackson wasn't eating until I found the scoop.  That meant Jackson agreed with me and thought that finding his scoop was almost more important than the actual food.  It was his only hope of not starving, which as soon as he heard me say "eat" he was sure could happen at any moment.

By the time I found his scoop the food was past my elbow, halfway to my armpit.  It was like digging for a toy at the bottom of a cereal box.  The prize wasn't as exciting as anything I ever found as a kid, but Jackson was thrilled.  Then the rest of the night he licked my arm with so much enthusiasm that I thought he might try taking a bite.

I've Got Blisters On My Fingers

My parents got me a set of snowshoes to build for Christmas.  These are the wood and rawhide (neoprene these days) kind made by a family in the U.P. and distributed across the U.S. (and probably at least Canada if not elsewhere, eh).  Jackson is a huge fan of snowshoeing, or at least the fact that I walk him in the deep snow (he couldn't care less what is on my feet as long as I trudge through knee deep snow with him).  They weren't easy to make.  There were a lot of...phases...to the process.  Here's how it went.

Day 0:  Cool!  I can't wait to start.  Jackson will love snowshoeing!

Day 1:  What were my parents thinking?!  This doesn't make any sense!  What idiot wrote these instructions.  I'm pretty sure my visualization skills are above average but these pictures don't make sense.  "Tie a Lark's Knot."  Gee, I would if I knew what that was.  These guys might make good snowshoes, but their written communication skills are terrible.

Day 1.5:  I'm glad my parents could explain a little, it's not too bad now.  I would have been completely lost if they hadn't added their supplemental instructions to the packet.  By packet I mean, the three useless pages that came with the snowshoes.

Day 2:  I got the middle of both shoes done, not bad.  My fingers hurt and I'm bleeding all over the neoprene from one of the cuts on my hands.  Time for a little break.  I might actually write real direction, copy write them, and sell them to the Iverson's.  These guys are horrible at instructions!

Day 2.5:  What does that even mean?  "Just weave."  That's all the directions I get for the heel and toe?!  Not even a picture showing what "weave" means?  My parents weren't a ton of help either since this is different from my dad's set.  At least they agreed that my guessing interpretation was logical.  "Just weave,"  seriously...if I ever meet these Iverson people I'm going to offer some constructive criticism...hopefully I'll be more polite about it than I feel right now.

Day 2.75:  Make it "as tight as possible" huh?  It would have been nice to know I would be threading something between those two surfaces later.  I actually made it too tight.  How could one person possibly do this?  It takes all of Ben's strength AND me heaving with all my body weight to thread it through only moving a foot at a time.  Oh, and now I found a mistake so I have to undo that part and start the toe over!  Ahhhh!!!  I wouldn't give this gift to an enemy.

Day 3:  I'm still frustrated I need to undo and redo those two impossible spots on the toe.  I need another day before I deal with unlacing the stupid toe.

Day 4:  My fingers are no longer red, but the tips are still sore and swollen so I'm going to wait another day.  Besides the cuts on my hands could use another day.

Day 7:  Ben broke out his tools for re-lacing baseball gloves.  The neoprene was so tight we bent one, but it was still a huge help.  One toe down...yay!  The heel is even easier now that I get what "just weave" means.  I got the toe wrapped...nice.  Wrapped the heel...ah, crap!  I stopped over an inch early and now it's lopsided.  Sure it won't affect the function, but it's going to bug me forever!  Who buys something like this for someone?  I bet it's all sorts of fun at a brewery with an instructor to help.  All I have is pictures and crappy directions.  And crappy beer, stupid Sam's Winter Lager...Ben got the last Octoberfest yesterday so now I'm stuck pretending this is a good substitute.

Day 8:  Got the other heel done.  It isn't any easier, but it's a little less frustrating with Ben's awesome tool.  I have way more than enough neoprene for the last toe so I'm just going to cut my mistake out of the original toes instead of unstringing it.  Yeah, it's that hard and so not worth another cut on my hand.  Got the last toe done...I can't wait until this is over.

Day 8.25:  Wrapped both the heel and toe on the second one.  I might have enough to redo the other heel.  If I don't have enough it's going to suck to redo for no reason though.  This SUCKS!!

Day 8.5:  Haha!  There was enough!  It was worth it and now I don't have a lopsided wrap to look at the rest of my life.  That's right the rest of my life, I'll never get rid of these snowshoes...and I'll NEVER make my own snowshoes again.  I just need to put the harnesses on.

Day 8.75:  Of course.  The Iverson's didn't feel the need to put instructions on the harness.  They pretty much didn't give any instructions on the rest of the snowshoe, why start now?  I can't make any sense of the harnesses either.  I can't tell what strap goes to what buckle or what part of the foot each strap goes around.  Dad wasn't much help since he somehow ended up with a different harness than me.  I somehow figured it out from hearing how his worked though.

Day 8.9:  Finally!  They're done!  Now it's time to take Jackson with me on a test run.

The final product.

My harness (so my Dad can see why I was so confused when he was describing his).

So now that it's over it is kind of cool to have a pair of snowshoes I made.  Although I had my moments of doubt along the way, I really do appreciate the gift now that I'm done.  And I appreciate the actual snowshoes more than a straight purchased pair after the blood and silent profanity.  They worked great, and like I mentioned at the beginning Jackson is a big fan of the activity.  He goes a few clicks faster than I would choose to go on my own, but he keeps it exciting.

World's Nastiest Dog

Jackson ate his poop the other day.  Then he at a small dog treat because Ben couldn't stand his breath.  Before that he ate a small piece of plastic from his new favorite dog toy.

Later that day I was upstairs unpacking and Ben was washing a few dishes when he turned to look at Jackson and saw him sitting by the door with two streams of drool extending from the corner of his mouth almost to the floor.  Ben called me asking where the camera was so he could get a picture before he wiped Jackson's face.  I ran downstairs to show him where it was and then it hit me.

The smell of puke and poop saturated the air when I got to the third step.  The stench was so bad it actually made me feel like I was going to puke.  By the time I was halfway down the steps my eyes started to burn, and Ben slowly said, "Oooohhh, Jackson puked..."  Ben ran to let Jackson outside in case there was another round on its way up.  As I came around the corner I saw what Ben just ran away from.

Right in front of the couch was a big puddle of pea-green puke.  The dog treat was in about three different pieces since he doesn't chew his food.  There was a little piece of plastic at the edge the puddle and, of course, two big turds right in the middle.

It was the most disgusting thing I have ever cleaned up.  Even after cleaning the puke, washing the carpet, taking out the trash, spraying air freshener, and lighting a candle all I could smell was poopy puke.

Jackson wasn't allowed to lick me for the next 24 hours.

Ben's Horror Film

Jackson started losing his baby teeth about a month ago.  He finally started losing his molars and "fangs" (as Ben likes to call them) this past week.  Today Ben was horsing around with Jackson getting him all worked up and jawing his arm (as in, Jackson was jawing Ben's arm).  I was watching and laughing at the goofy way Jackson was jumping all around when I noticed something soaring through the air.  I thought it was a large drop of spittle and I got up to wipe it off the floor.

As I bent over to wipe it up another flying particle shot in my direction.  With a quick Matrix-like move I dodged the debris only to realize the spot I was about to wipe up and the piece I just dodged were teeth.

As I pointed this out to Ben another tooth landed on the carpet and Ben noticed his arm and hand were covered in blood.  Being the nice (and slightly grossed out) wife that I am I ran to grab something for Ben to wipe the blood off with.  By the time I got back there was even more blood on Ben's hand and a huge drop of bloody spit shot toward me, landing on the carpet.

Unfortunately we couldn't get a good picture of the blood since Ben's sweatshirt was kind of dark, but trust me it was gross.  In horror movie terms it was more of a Friday the 13th type gore, but that's still pretty gross when you thought you were just going to play tug-of-war or fetch with your cute puppy.

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And there was pee all over the crate today...

Jackson's Big Day

Today was a very eventful day.  By eventful I really mean uneventful.

Our neighbors graciously offered to take Jackson out during the day when they are around.  He usually gets to go out once or twice a day, and while Ben was out of town they even came over to let him out in the evening since I had class.  They are out of town this week so Jackson doesn't get any bathroom breaks while he is trapped in his crate all day.  Today was the first test of his bladder.  No one to come when he whines, he really had to hold it all day.

We expected to come home to a mess today.  Even when Tom and Liz are around he manages to make a mess by the time we get home half the time.  Today he managed to control himself for 10 hours!  This may not be exciting for anyone else, but it's a big deal here in NC.  This is like the Lions winning a Super Bowl, well maybe just winning a game (0-4, at least they got rid of Millen).

Sure, he may still lick himself all the time, and he did just run full speed into a parked car the other day.  But now he can proudly say he can hold his water.

Jackson

Ojo has been replaced.  I won't say it was because he had a faint but distinct Ojo-odor in high humidity, but I won't wasn't either.  Just so Ojo doesn't get jealous we'll tell him it was because Jackson was too cute to pass up.

Playing with his ball

Posing for a photo

Curling up for a nap

He is a 9-week old chocolate Lab.  We got him from a breeder about an hour from here.  When we finally decided to actually look for a dog on Sunday we found a breeder that had a few pups remaining from a recent litter.  By Tuesday we had a new puppy.  He likes Pepper (our neighbors dog), but Pepper isn't such a fan of another dog in her area yet.  Jackson already understands SIT and COME (if he isn't distracted), but we won't claim he's housebroken yet.

Playing with his favorite toy, a gift from Lindsey (another reason Pepper isn't such a fan of Jackson)

"But I like peeing on the hardwood floor"

Don't worry Ojo isn't homeless.  We just have a more interesting pet to play with now.  Ojo happily drinks his beer on our mantel still.