Conversation with a puppy

So, like I said, Luna had six puppies. All gorgeous, all healthy.

The other day, I was petting Luna because she's not getting much attention what with being the mum to six puppies and stuck in the kitchen till they're old enough to be left alone and she had one pup with her. After I petted and cooed at her, I reached over to pet the puppy, who was nursing.

It growled at me! I've never had a puppy growl at me before! So what did I do? I grabbed my camera and took video.




Today, I was re-telling DG about the growler and how we're not supposed to do that because it can make the pups aggressive. He said: "That puppy. He was telling you to leave him alone."

Me: "I know."

DG: "He said, 'Oooh, if I had teeth, I'd tear you up!'... that's what he said."

Me: "He'd tear me up?"

DG: "He did. 'If I had teeth, she wouldn't do that! grrrrr!', like that."

Me: "I see. He told you this?"

DG: "Yeah, we've talked about it. Had conversations."

Me: "You talked about it? Had conversations? Maybe even a dialog about it? With the puppy? The small dog? The young Chihuahua?"

He called me a smart-ass after that. I don't know why. *blinks innocently*


Here's a video from the other day when I cleaned up the playpen the pups are usually kept in. DG's in the video a little bit, and you really need to ignore my annoying voice. I don't think I sound as nasally as I do in the video, but hey, that's just me. For the record, Gypsy was whining because she couldn't get into the kitchen to play with the puppies.

Banana Sandwiches and Puppies.

Those two things aren't related. Firstly, our Chihuahuas, Luna and Jasper, had puppies last week. (Wednesday, June 30th). The Disabled Guy was gone on his little useless trip till the previous weekend. I had been sleeping on the sofa just in case Luna had her puppies. The sofa is the one DG built and is nice to sit on, but absolutely horrible to sleep on.

But more on puppies later, because there will be more photos at the end. To hold you over, here's a group shot from yesterday.



Our son got a full time job at Bird's Eye Foods. He's exhausted and has no life now, beyond going to work and coming home. Jase also has a medical problem and can only eat certain foods at times. Its difficult to explain and let's just leave it at that. One of the things Jase takes to work is bananas. This batch of bananas ripened far too quickly and DG decided he would make banana sandwiches for lunch.

I hear you saying, "Oooh, delicious!" No. Don't say that. Not at all. He doesn't make them with peanut butter or even peanut butter and chocolate sauce. No, he makes his banana sandwiches with Miracle Whip. You heard me. "The Bread Spread from Kraft" and sliced bananas. If you think sliced bananas are slimy, try spreading Miracle Whip on the bread first.

And about the slicing, he doesn't slice them in small pieces, like coins. He slices them long-ways, so they cover more bread. Now, you can see where this is going because I'm sure you all remember that DG only has the use of one hand. In this situation, it would make sense to slice them small, like coins. No, he still tries to slice them long-ways. So, being the good wifey that I am, I offer to help- even though I detest the slimy feel of Miracle Whip and bananas. DG doesn't like to ask for help and after 15 years, I just know when he needs it, and sometimes, I wait for him to ask (or, in most cases, he swears a lot and then says, "DEAR! C'mere!"). But he waited till he mangled a banana before saying anything to me. I took the now-slime covered butter knife and sliced the second banana long-ways and fixed the second sandwich.

DG said: "Thanks. I could never slice those got-damned bananas."

Me, slicing easily: "Not even before." (as in, before the stroke).

DG: "Not even. I always tear it up." Then he picked up his two sandwiches and said, "You can tell mine from yours. Mine's like a Whopper and this is like a cheeseburger!"

Me: "Like a Whopper?"

DG: "Like a Whopper."

As he was getting his two little snack-size bags of chips, I stood next to the gate at the kitchen door. We have the gate up to keep the other three dogs away from Luna and the puppies- who are in a playpen in the kitchen (the warmest room in the house). I moved the gate for him to leave the kitchen and Luna was sitting up in the playpen, looking at DG as he walked by.

He said: "Look, Luna knows. Like a Whopper." She wagged her tail. He repeated, "Like a Whopper. She knows."

Once in the living room with his two sandwiches and two snack-size bags of chips, he sighed. I asked what was wrong. He replied, "This isn't going to be enough. I'm really hungry."

He ate half of the first sandwich. And he sighed again.

I asked, "Would you like me to make you another nasty sandwich?"

DG: "Could you make two?"


Now, about the puppies!

I was officially diagnosed with fibromyalgia on Monday, June 28th. For those who don't know, it causes widespread pain through the muscles and it makes the sufferer extremely tired. Since I'd been sleeping on the sofa for over a week, I was not sleeping well. The more tired you are, the more pain you're in. So, when DG would get up in the morning, I would go to bed and tell him to come get me if something happened with Luna. So, you can see how him being gone was bad for me at this time. While he was gone, I had to sleep on the sofa, stay awake instead of napping (because my kids have lives and jobs and aren't always home), and I had to cook dinners and do dishes and just loads of stuff I don't normally do on a daily basis.

But I digress.

On Wednesday, June 30th, I told him, "I'm going to take a nap. Come get me if something happens." This was around 630 AM. I fell asleep quickly, the bed being much more comfortable than the sofa.

Less than an hour later, DG came upstairs and said that Luna was "panting all weird-like." I asked where she was- she'd gotten into the playpen all by herself (there's a hole in the side for her to come and go). I sat up and told him I'd be down in a minute. I sat on the bed for a minute, then went to the bathroom to get my track pants on. In the possibly three minutes since he woke me till I walked out of the bathroom, he was racing back up the stairs.

Before I could say anything he exclaimed, "There's something coming out of her!"

I asked what it looked like.

DG replied: "Disgusting!"

I had to wait on him to go down the stairs because he was blocking me. He got to the kitchen before me, because I paused to call my friend, Vickie- who is a dog breeder (and where we got Luna and Jasper). When I walked into the kitchen, DG was standing next to the playpen with a look of terror and utter disgust on his face. I had to laugh at him.

Luna went on to have six puppies. All healthy. Four boys and two girls. As they grow, there will be many photos and maybe some video footage of DG with the puppies. Till then, here are some photos...

DG isn't good at holding the puppies for photos. He refuses to hold them with any kind of pressure because he thinks he'll hurt them. But I got two shots of two of the puppies with him holding them.

This is Vato- he's been purchased and his new name is Drake.



This is Chica- she's also been purchased and her new name is Easton.



I held the pups pictured below. In order of birth, they are: Wah-Lah!, Vato, Paco, Pedro, Chica, and Huevo. The new owners re-name them most of the time. But DG will also give them weird nicknames (one from the last litter was called "Speedy Rodriquez" because "Speedy Gonzales" is trademarked, so says DG).

Wah-Lah!, a girl.



Paco- he's my favorite right now, because of his coloring.



Pedro.



Huevo. (Pedro, Wah-Lah!, and Huevo all look alike.)



Group shot!


And here's a photo of the sofa. Its pretty... and pretty uncomfortable as a bed.

And that's our son, being his usual self.

Textually Speaking Part Two-

So, while DG has been on this trip, I've been receiving random text messages with photos in them. The other day, I received this photo and the words: "All glass".



I texted back, "Cool. What is it?"

DG: "Its made of glass."

Me: "Ok, but WHAT is it?"

DG: "Glass."

Me: "I know its glass, what is made out of glass?"

DG: "That picture I sent. Its all glass."

Me: "I GOT IT! But WHAT is IT!?"

Now, I'd like to say he was just taking the piss (which is a British term for "joking around"). But he wasn't. He was replying to the questions as he saw them. And of course, there was about a ten minute span between my question and his reply because of how long it takes him to text. In my defense, the photo on my phone was quite small and I couldn't really make out what it was- aside from "all glass" and kind of pretty.

What it turned out to be was a light that was made completely out of hand-blown glass at some shop where ever it is that they were when he saw it. He didn't even know aside from: "San Antonio".

I told him that this convo was "going in the blog". He asked: "What convo?"

Me: "The glass convo."

DG: "Why?"

Me: "Because it was ridiculous!"

DG: "How?"

Me: "Because you didn't get it and it was like that old "Who's on first?" joke."

DG: "I don't get it."

Me: "You don't get the joke or that the convo was the joke?"

DG: "What's a convo?"

Burn, baby, buuurrrnnn!

Saturday, June 12, 2010, our son, Jason, graduated from high school. For a while, we weren't sure he was going to make it. Around 7th grade, he copped an attitude and his line about his lack of doing homework was: "I don't learn that way." Well, too bad, the teachers grade that way. This stayed the norm through middle school and on to high school. Every parent/teacher conference (which DG has never gone to, not one, not ever) I was met with: "Jason is a good kid, but..." and "I like Jason, however..." Always but, always however, always. He had summer school to make up lost credits every year. And he's a smart kid. He's been in martial arts since he was eight years old and a person can't be stupid and achieve the levels he has (second degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do).

Somewhere in 11th grade, something changed. He started getting better grades and conferences became: "Jason is great!" and "I wish I had a whole class full of kids like him!" And I'd ask, "Are you sure? Jason? Tall kid, dark spiky hair? Pineapple-shaped head." Yup, he turned a corner.

And he graduated on June 12th. Fourteen years ago, on June 12th, we arrived in Wisconsin. We moved here a year after DG had the stroke because... well, we came where the help was and it was here. And, twenty-five years ago, on June 12th, DG asked me to be his girlfriend. We'd been friends for over a year and while I chased him like a sick puppy, he didn't act on it till that day.

So, on Saturday, I asked him if he knew what today was and he said, "Saturday."

Me: "Anything else?"

DG: "Jason's graduation?"

Me: "And?"

DG: "Aaaaan-nnnd? And what?"

Me: "Well, twenty-five years ago, you asked me to be your girlfriend."

DG: "I did not. Did I?"

Me: "Of course you did."

DG: "How do you remember these things?"

Me: "Because I'm a chick and chicks remember these things."

DG: "I don't think it was me."

Me: "What? You just think we just woke up one morning and were boyfriend and girlfriend?"

DG: "Didn't we?"

Me: "We just sort of spontaneously had a relationship without any preceding events?"

DG: "Of course we did. Its like having oily rags in the garage. *makes whooshing sounds that are like someone squeezing the air out of a wet bag* POOF! Sponty- spontaneous! WHOOSH! Spontaneous combust! *crackling sound* We spontaneously combusted!" All while he was making those noises, he was waving his hand in the air to simulate fire.

Me: "We spontaneously combusted like oily rags in a garage?"

DG: "You know it."

While he was busy giggling at himself, I asked him about that text message conversation we had (the previous blog post) the other day.

Me: "What the hell were you talking about?"

DG: "I don't know... I musta heard something different."

Me: "You were reading it! How did you 'hear' anything?"

DG: "I don't know! But it was something!"

As for the kid's graduation- here is DG with Jason and DG's father.



Jason walking to the stage.

Textually Speaking with the Disabled Guy

I thought for sure with him being gone (long story, really stupid story, lame story even), I wouldn't have a conversation to post. Long story short- he went on a road trip with his father, an uncle and a cousin. The part that's stupid is the fact we discussed it, he said he wasn't going to go because we have too much going on (our son is graduating from high school, our dog is having puppies, our daughter's birthday and such). Then he changed his mind. Then he failed to tell me that upon returning for our son's graduation, he would be leaving again. That caused an argument between us that is a conversation you won't read here. Let's just say he owes me a present. Why? Because I told him he owes me a present.

Now, DG can barely text message. His brain doesn't comprehend the whole text concept- where one has to press a key three times to get to a letter and whatnot. Those familiar with texting know what I'm talking about. Others who don't text, its the letters on the phone digits- 1=ABC, 2=DEF and so on. Jase sat down with him and showed him how to text message. And he seemed to get it. But not always. And when I text TO him, I can't use text-speak because he doesn't understand it.

When Jase asked me a car-related question, I decided to ask DG, because he's with his father and his father would know the answer. This is the text conversation. Any misspellings are because DG doesn't like the text-key thing.

Me: "Show this to your father & text me what he says: In a stick shift car, is 'reverse' always 'to the right & down' or does it change by car make/model/tranny speed? Jase wants to know."

DG: "We can all fit in the minivan."

Me: "What? What about the minivan?"

DG: "The vehiclls." (vehicles)

I called him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

DG: "The car. We can all fit in the minivan."

Me: "What does that have to do with anything?"

DG: "For the thing."

Me: "What thing? Did you even read the text?"

DG: "Yeah. And we can all fit in the minivan."

Me: "I didn't ask about the minivan. I asked if stick shift vehicles all had the same gear set up or if it varies by type of car."

DG: *pause* "Oh... OHHH! Okay. Oh. Yeah, unless its, like an 18-wheeler."

Me: "What about foreign cars?"

DG: "I don't know about those."

Me: "What did you think I was asking you?"

DG: "About driving to Jase's graduation."

Me: "Where in hell did you get "Jase's graduation" from "stick shift car"?"

DG: "I don't know."

Me: "You owe me a present. A big present now."

DG: "Okay."

For the record, I'm not squeezing my fat ass into anyone's minivan. I'm driving my own vehicle so I can park where I want.

Random Ramblings of the Disabled Guy

The actress, Halle Berry, is a spokes person for a make-up company. And she looks stunning in the ad, as she seems to always look, everywhere. DG watched the TV ad and then said:

"Was that... Hare- Harry- Harry Ball..." He paused, took a breath and said, "Harry Bare- You know, that actress that's in that movie with that guy who was the guy but not the other guy?"

I replied, "Yes. Yes it was. Halle Berry was in that movie with that guy who was the guy but not the other guy."

DG: "So you saw it too!?"

Me: "We saw it together. On our way back from that happy land in your head."

DG: "Ahhh... its nice there."

Me: "Except for the unicorns."

DG: *dramatically* "There ARE NO UNICORNS!"

*******************

The weather has warmed up (like it has for everyone in the Northern Hemisphere). I took the heavy comforter off our bed because its so hot. Except for DG. Apparently, he's cold. Damn cold. I went back to our room the other morning and he was curled up in a ball with the blankets- yes, plural- wadded up behind him and he was uncovered. When he woke up, I asked him about the blankets and why he was uncovered if he were so cold.

DG: "I done scared the blankets off me."

Me: "Why would you do that if you're so cold?"

DG: "Those blankets don't know I'm cold. Its their job to keep me warm."

Me: "How are they going to keep you warm if they're wadded up behind you on the bed?"

DG: "How am I supposed to know? I don't speak 'blanket'."

********************************

A few days ago, I did a short reading on video of a book called "FLU" by Wayne Simmons. Mr. Simmons approved of my silly video and I made it visible to the Facebook world. Then on YouTube so he could use it on any sites he wanted. Then, I figured since his first novel is set for re-release next year, I would do a quick reading on that. I had to do several takes of the video because I'd either screw something up too much to read through or the light was wrong or whatever. Just as I was getting ready to hit the record button, I heard DG coming up the stairs. So I waited.

When he saw me sitting on the edge of the bed, next to the window, book in hand, camera on a tripod, he exclaimed: "What are you doing!?"

Me: "I'm going to do a video of myself reading from "Drop Dead Gorgeous" for Wayne like I did with "FLU", you remember?"

DG: "Oh, then go ahead." and he waved his arm dismissively.

Me: "Sure, I'm going to do a video of myself reading from a horror novel while you strip for a shower in the background."

DG: *by now, his shirt is off* "I said I don't care!" and he did a jerky version of the bacon dance. The difference between the real bacon dance and any other dance is the noise he makes when he does it. This time, his noise was a high pitched: "Woooooo-wooooooo-woooooo!"

So I turned the camera on...

And he stopped!

I turned the camera off again. And he undid his jeans. Camera on. He stopped. Camera off. He started making the "wooooo-woooooo-wooooo!" sounds and doing a slow version of the bacon dance. Camera on. He stopped. Camera off. And I let him go ahead and get naked without fear of video. He was decidedly not willing to let you all see the "Doodle/Bacon Dance".

He just said: "There's just some things you gotta have to yourself."

Me: "But what about the Bacon Dance?"

DG: "What about the Bacon Dance?"

Me: "You did it on video."

DG: "I was framed! It was my twin! No! It was my stand-in! You know, like that guy in the movie who looks like that guy!"

And he walked upstairs, "woooooo-wooooo-wooooing" and when he reached the landing he let out a "Yeee-haaaawww!" in the same high-pitch.

A pre-blog conversation with the Disabled Guy-

I started this blog on December 24, 2009. And part of the reason I did was because I shared the "Rats with Nike Shoes" story so many times that I figured I should find a place to compile all the conversations.

In perusing my Facebook profile today, I found a conversation that took place about two weeks before I started the blog. And here it is, directly copy/pasted.

December 11, 2009-

I was in the shower. I was nearly done in the shower. I should point out that I'm also hard of hearing, so add the shower noise to enhance my non-hearing-ness.

Disabled guy: "*mumble-mumble* ...battery for my truck?"

Me: "You want me to get the battery for your truck?"

DG: "Well, do you want to go with me?"

Me: "Do you need me to go? I have to go to Woodman's (grocery store) today." and I listed the few things I had to pick up. "Are you going to go with me to Woodman's?"

DG: *pause* "Well, you'll need to *mumble-something-truck-mumble* I mean, my truck's full of snow."

Me: "I see... I'll have to go with you to get your battery, come home, get my truck and go to Woodman's alone?"

DG: *pause* "Kinda."

Me: "Can I finish my shower first?"

DG: "I suppose so."

I wouldn't go if he didn't actually need me to go. He's been worn out this week from the cold and all the activity, so his speech is slurred and he can't remember the year of his truck. But I digress. I'm showered, blow-dried, and dressed... even though that wasn't part of the agreement in the conversation.

Upon reading this earlier today, I realized there are many, many conversations that I've forgotten. I need to shake the cobwebs from my brain and remember more. We had some terrific video footage of DG arguing with my Magic 8 Ball, but when I played it back on the computer, the TV was too loud and the loud, smashy, robotic sounds of the second Transformers movie drowned out most of the human conversation. But, I can tell you that according to DG, the Magic 8 Ball is a "lying shithead" and "it lies so bad".

And he still doesn't trust HDTV.