I had a lot of things buzzing through my mind today. After a very warm hat tip from an old friend, I realized it was time to get back to blogging. I'll not make excuses, you all understand that life occasionally gets a little chaotic. So I spent the morning pondering how best to catalogue what's happened in the last couple of months... but first I had to get Cayenne Pepper. Like, A LOT OF CAYENNE PEPPER.
Random? Not after I tell you that Cassie and Millie (John's puppy!) have decided they want to be archaeologists when they grow up. At least, I assume that's what they're thinking while they make holes in the yard so big you could lose a Volkswagen in them. I thought about strangling the little brats, but I don't like violence and they're far too cute for that anyway. Instead, I decided to coat their giant damned hole with Cayenne Pepper. Dogs hate it. I hate it, but I'm allergic to it so I figure that's fair. Not massively allergic mind you, but I do get sick every time I ingest any and I get welts wherever it touches my skin. So, there's me wandering the back yard with a sack full of cayenne pepper bottles and an exacto-knife (so that I don't have to open it with my fingers and/or teeth (stupid freshness seals) and risk touching it), feeling pretty smug actually. At least I was thinking I'd stumbled upon a relatively humane way to STOP THE DIGGING.
What I didn't think about was the weather. Just as I was opening a bottle to pour into their favorite hole--GUST OF WIND, FLYING CAYENNE PEPPER! Pepper seemed to magically fly straight from the bottle into my face, and nowhere else. Straight into my eyes. Seriously, I've never felt pain that acute and intense. It was horrific. I was blinded--literally. I couldn't open my eyes. They swelled shut. So I stumbled into the house (tripping over a dog toy and a hose on the way) and proceeded to flood my face with cold water. Now, three hours later, my eyes are still red and swollen but at least my lips don't look like I've had a bad collagen injection. The rest of my face... well it's splotchy, and my nose looks like I'm either supporting Comic Relief or auditioning to be the fifth clown out of the little car. Officially, I'm never peppering the holes again. Somebody else can do it. Somebody not allergic to Cayenne Pepper.
Somebody like... my husband! I suppose that's probably our biggest news. I'm now officially Little Bug Moustache-Coffee-Cup. Has a nice ring, doesn't it? If you can keep a secret, I'll tell you the only thing I dislike about being married. Ready? I miss my maiden name. A lot. It was so suited to me that it's been my nickname for most of my life. Plus, it was short. Punchy. Four little letters. Now I've got this massive long last name and every time I try to sign a check, or a document I end up running out of room. So many letters! Other than that, things are pretty good. Well, other than that and the fact that I may filet my husband's dog... and my dog. GRR!
So, this is Millie:
Oh, come on Millie.
Come out and say hello.
Hello Millie! She's a Golden Doodle from the same breeder that gave us Cassie, Abby, Macy, Sammie and Roxxie (my dog, my mom's dogs, and my aunt's dogs). She'd give you a high five if you wanted one. That seems to be the only trick she likes at the moment. She turned five months old last weekend and, while I still think she's terribly clever, currently she seems to think her mission is less 'search and rescue' and more 'search and destroy.' How many times have I saved my mom's Ugg boots? More than once. More than twice. More than... They live on a high shelf now, actually. She and Cassie have formed a mutual adoration society, and whenever they get the chance they play archaeologists.
The rest of the time they do things like this:
I love it when they do this.
This is where they sit while I try to finish my PhD dissertation. I'm very boring when I write. I don't throw the ball (or goose, or triceratops, or octopus, or knotted-string-thing) with any consistency. I'm disgracefully intermittent with the tummy scratches, and treats are few and far between. This is how they look at me when I apologize and say I have to get back to writing. This is how doggies look disappointed. Can't you tell?