Triskal got a puppy...

Triskal turned 11.75 on the fifteenth of September. We figured any Newfie that lives to be that old deserves their own puppy. So we chatted up a local rescue and found this crazy dingbat. Meet Bosley Underfoot. 

He must be related to me as he follows the sunny spots around the house. Muggin and Zita can sympathize.

He is supposedly an Australian shepherd/lab mix. I'm leaning more towards shepherd mix. He has four white feet, white on the tip of his tail and under his chin, black on top and tan accents, including the adorable, irresistible dotty eyebrows. 

*Dang it, I wrote this whole thing and it poofed! Gah!*

He's supposed to be a medium-sized dog when he's fully grown, but for now he's about 20 pounds of spry energy. He antelopes and pops up and chases everything that moves. He hoovers the entire floor, which is quite a change from Triskal who just can't be bothered for anything smaller than a Cheerio or an apple slice. I am pretty sure he's also related to Betsy, Hinrew and Muggin's previous dog, who was always on high alert and never missed so much as a speck of powdered sugar. 

He's gotten pretty good at "sit" and is working on "stay" and hears an awful lot of "leave it" which means my master plan to teach the kids to clean up after themselves is in full swing. No better enforcer than a teething puppy to teach "don't leave your stuff in gnawing distance". He's helped himself to a pair of Carrie's earbuds which were not completely enclosed in her backpack, several tasseled hoodie and backpack pulls, Grandmama's slippers and yard shoes when she was here visiting, a refrigerator magnet (I don't think he ate any, but he certainly enjoyed chewing it to pieces), and the towels we use to wipe the dogs' feet when they enter the house. He will sit for this process but isn't sure yet if he likes it.

It's funny to bring them both in from outside because Triskal is old and plods along, knowing the routine and the expectations. We've often joked that she should wear one of those slow moving vehicle triangles. Poor Bosley is just about beside himself literally because he's so quickly darting from one end of the deck to the other and back so that we will let him in and not forget him. I keep doing the routine with her first so he can see what is expected, but that doesn't mean he doesn't try to make a mad dash for her dish every chance he gets. He is most definitely food motivated and must have a Hoover in his family history somewhere. 

Come on over for your puppy fix! I'm sure there will be more stories to come featuring this new crazy cutie. 

Getting bigger every day

Yes, she dresses herself. This girl is getting so big! I should take a picture of her in her swimsuit because she is absolutely all legs. This was taken before school one day this week.

And THIS monkey, (insert frustrated sigh here), is climbing everything. When met with a frantic, "no no nononononononooooooooooo!" from me or either of the big kids, he responds by throwing whatever forbidden object he'd been holding as far from him as possible. Usually it's not a huge deal. However, yesterday he was up on this chair (and no, it doesn't matter if we push them in or not, he'll just take the challenge if it's harder) and I'd left my 8 oz can of Pepsi on the counter. Because I never get to finish a drink. Or a meal. It's called being a mom. Anyway, I see him tentatively raising it to his lips, so I completely forget his usual reaction and sound off with the "no no no nonononononooooooooo!" while hurdling over every object in the living room to get it before he spills it all over himself. Naturally, he flings it to the ground, where it foams and fizzes and generally makes a wonderful, delightful, truly scientific mess all over our green carpet, the other chairs, the counter, etc.

This was two days AFTER I tried to grind coffee without inserting the filter OR the basket that catches the grounds. Um. Why is it that the coffeemaker beeps if you push "grind off" while the basket cover for the beans isn't inserted, but it apparently doesn't give any kind of darn whether or not you have the basket underneath to catch ANYTHING!? Clearly my husband does not work there in quality control. Thankfully I got to it before it added the water. Talk about a scientific mess. The big kids were delighted. I was not. But the kitchen smelled nice...

More colorful messes can be made my smashing Squid O's and decorating with them. What? You don't know about Squid O's? That's because one, they're from Aldi, and two, they have a sting ray on the box. However, at first Liam announced they were Squid O's. Then when he looked closer he realized it was a sting ray. That just doesn't have the same ring to it.

Even Triskal likes Squid O's. And I am convinced they had nothing to do with the fact that she threw up this morning. Outside. I got one thing right this week- yay, me!