Robbie was right about the dog

Last July, we adopted Gabby, the bagle hound. She came to us, as you may remember, with the promise that she was good with cats, great with kids, good on a leash and housebroken. And she was good with cats (though the cat was not good with her and defected on his own accord), great with kids, good on a leash, and definitely NOT housebroken. 

For over a year, we tried to figure out ways to keep our home dog-friendly and pee-free. I talked to an animal behaviorist. We crated her. I searched on the internet for solutions. We gated off the upstairs -- her favorite place to potty. I even had an energy worker tap into the dog's aura and re-align her chakras. The only thing we didn't try was what Robbie suggested on a few occasions. 

"Mommy, maybe Gabby would be better if we got her a friend dog."

Let me assure you there was no way on Noah's ark that I was about to bring another animal into our house. That's just what I did not need. 

After trying for more than a year to make the dog pee and poop outside, we had to call it. There was no way we could keep her. I contacted the rescue where we got her, as well as another nearby no-kill shelter. They both said they would see if they could find a place for her. 

Then my sister offered to put an ad about Gabby in the daily e-mail for employees at the company where she works. 

4yo beagle/basset hound mix (hence "bagle hound") named Gabby needs a new home. She is a sweet, sweet, mild-mannered dog. She rarely barks and she is so tolerant of kids. She came to us 1 year ago. According to the rescue where we got her, she was housebroken. However, our lack of fence and no other dogs to follow has made this difficult in our house.

Gabby needs a fenced yard (6ft) or lots of walks -- she loves them -- and preferably another dog or two to play with. She loves Beggin' Strips, rawhide bones, chasing after balls and playing tug of war. She is very gentle, unless you try to take food from her. Then she will growl.

She is due for her check-up and shots, which we will be happy to take care of.  We'd also be willing to allow a test-run of a few days to see how things go.

 Within an hour of the e-mail going out, I received a phone call from someone interested in adopting Gabby. A few phone calls and dozen or so text messages later and Gabby, the very cute, very sweet, very ill-mannered, very unhousebroken dog has a new home...and, as Robbie had suggested, a friend dog:

Since she's been in her new home, I've received a few text messages from Gabby's new mom. She's fitting in very well -- loves running in the fenced yard and playing with her brother dog, Briggs. And she has not peed in the house once. 

See? Robbie was right.

On paint and perspective and other possibilities

Ahhhh! Stretch! I'm just waking up from a little mid-morning snooze and I am rarin' to go. Or at least to frag. Because it's Friday and that means fragments with Mrs. 4444s.

Remember my paint dilemma? It's solved. As in painted and too late to change my mind if I wanted to. And it looks good. But was doesn't look good is my house and all the upheaval still waiting to be put away. So, I don't have pics to share yet. But my goal this weekend is to get everything in order. I won't go back to work until this place doesn't look like a Goodwill sorting room. (In other words, boss, I'll see ya in two weeks.)

I could complain about the mess in the house, but then I remember there are people with no place to call home. The other day I was whining about not liking the way my hair looked, and then I saw a note on Facebook from a friend just starting chemo who was excited about the cool hat she got to wear when her hair is gone from the treatment. Life is just a matter of perspective, isn't it?

Driving home from church this morning, I was behind a gold SUV with vanity plates that said GRAMS. Not being able to see the driver, I couldn't decide if the car belonged to a grandmother or a drug dealer.

My job is not particularly stressful. I've been there for almost 6 years. I work 30 hours a week and I can probably count on one hand the number of times I've actually felt stress over the work I do. But the next 3 months are probably going to skew those stress stats. I've got my normal stuff to do, plus a few short-term projects, plus I'm taking an online graduate course in grantwriting. Add in my presentation to the Upper Midwest Social Media Conference, my Visit Indiana stuff and oh yeah, being a wife and mother and excuse me while I go fix a morning cocktail Diet Coke just thinking about it. Happily, it's all good. It's just a whole lotta good.

Christmas is less than 4 months away. Have you started shopping yet?

You know that very bad dog we have? The one that has only earned a place to stay because Robbie loves her so much? Well, she chewed his black Angry Bird and disabled the bird sounds. Robbie was none too happy and declared, "That's it! We are getting rid of that dog!" I'm not sure why we didn't capitalize on the emotion of the moment, but lucky for Gabby, we didn't and she's still here.

It's a gorgeous day here. Hope it is where you are, too. And if you happen to be in the path of Hurricane Irene, know I'm praying for your safety.

Stay.

This is the dog.

This is the bad dog.

This is the bad dog we love.

She's been granted a temporary stay of expulsion.

Stay tuned.

Dog-gone summer

It's come to THIS. Again.

The stairs are gated -- she finagles around/over/through the gate and heads upstairs to pee and poop. Our bedroom and Robbie's seem to be her favorite. This is after she's been outside for plenty of time or recently walked.

When she is good, she is a joy. Brings smiles and laughter. But when you come home to find poop all over the hallway (and not just easy to pick up poop), the smiles and laughter disappear. We've had the carpets cleaned twice by "professionals" and twice by us with a do-it-yourself machine. All to end up back in the same spot.

So now there are tears. And guilt. Maybe we didn't do enough?

It's not her fault, but she's the final straw in a very stressful home right now. Mike is still looking for work (waiting, waiting, waiting to hear about interviews from last week). My mother-in-law's death is still fresh. And our tolerance for shit, literally, is very low.

I wish there were a place to take her where we could go visit her and play with her once in a while. I hope there is a place that she can call home, for good.

Hard decisions

This is Gabby. She's been a member of our family since last July, with the promise that she was great on a leash, good with cats and housebroken. She gets me out of the house and walking for miles at a time. She is Robbie's constant source of laughter. 

She is our constant source of frustration.

When we first got her, she had some bathroom accidents in the house. I chalked it up to adjusting to a new environment. She stole things like stuffed animals and shoes to get attention. She'd take them, run off and wait for someone to play with (read: chase) her. 

But over the course of the past several months, she has decided that our home IS her bathroom. She has moved from stealing toys to snagging and chewing to bits pencils, Legos, plastic bowls, TV remote controls and telephones.

We have reached the end of our rope. A few weeks ago, I called an animal trainer to get some help. She told us to take her out, stand with her on the leash for 10 minutes, praise her if she does her business, and put her back in the crate for 10 minutes if she doesn't. Lather, rinse, repeat.

And she has shown some mild signs of improvement. But not enough. I've e-mailed the rescue where we got her to ask for some suggestions and to see if they might take her back. I've looked into no-kill animal shelters. 

She is a sweet, sweet, mild-mannered dog. She rarely barks and she is so tolerant of the kids -- especially Robbie. And considering surrendering her is breaking my heart. The kids are sad, not to mention angry at Mike and I. 

Annie has suggested taking her to a kennel for the week, having all the carpets cleaned and bringing her back to start fresh. It's an idea that seems reasonable, except for the fact that we are 5 people living on my part-time income at the moment and a week at Chez Pooch and a whole house carpet cleaning just aren't in the budget right now. 

If there were a way to keep the better and jettison the worse of this bad dog who I we love, I'd be all for it.

Things I think about when I should be sleeping

I'm not a great sleeper. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you probably already know that. Maybe you're even tired of hearing about it. If so, just put your hands over your eyes.

I went to bed around 1am. That should be late enough to be tired, right? I think I was tired. But someone forgot to tell my brain that it was time to go to bed. My brain wanted to run and roll and flip over thoughts such as:

1. How much the bedrooms all need to be cleaned in the morning.
2. What we're going to do with the kids while I work this summer. 
3. BINGO - as in Scrabble. I see tiles in my head and with my mind's eye, shuffle through them to try to find a 7-letter word.
4. How tired I'm going to be in the morning because I'm only going to get 5 hours of sleep...4 hours and 53 minutes...4 hours and 47 minutes...
5. How I'm too hot and should go downstairs and check the thermostat.
6. How I should get up and go through coupons for the much needed grocery trip tomorrow.
7. How I wonder if anyone is on Facebook right now.

Eventually, my brain gave up and my body won. Until the dog came in and licked my face. I thought she needed to go out, so I got up and headed downstairs, expecting her to follow. Instead, she took my spot in the bed. Whose idea was it to get this dog?

It turns out I'm not the only one awake at 4:30am. Mike was downstairs watching television. Star Trek: The Next Generation.

Now that's enough to put me to sleep.

Holy pets, Batman!

Today was the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of animals. In honor of the day, the kids' school held a pet blessing just before dismissal. Robbie was beside himself with excitement that Gabby could come to school -- well, at least to the parking lot of the school.

So despite day three of my monumental and hormonal headache, I put the dog in the car and headed down for what might have been her first religious experience (aren't I a good mom?!). This is the two of us in the car:

There were several dogs already there when we arrived. Most everyone was behaving nicely on their leashes. However, one friend of mine was crazy enough to bring their three BIG black labs (if I'm a good mom, she's a stellar mom) who thought nothing of using their combined weight to bring her to her knees and eventually belly down in the grass. I noticed by the time the blessing actually got underway, she was down to one dog.

When the classes came outside, Robbie found Gabby and me rather quickly and sat with us for the blessing, though I don't know if Gabs considered Robbie's presence a blessing:

Soon, Charlie joined us, too. Annie said hello but opted to stand with her friends, who for the record, thought that Gabby was adorable. Once everyone was gathered, Fr. Jeremy, the associate pastor, began the blessing ceremony. I wondered if this job traditionally goes to the second priest on the totem pole? 

A few prayers, a reading from Genesis, some outstretched hands, a light sprinkle of holy water and we had ourselves a blessed bagle hound. 

If only those few words and that little bit of holy water could work some magic on the whole chewing and housebreaking thing...unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. 

The majority of pets at the blessing were dogs, though I did see one dad holding a box of guinea pigs and Fr. Jeremy said there were a couple of cats in carriers. And Robbie's teacher put their class pet -- a catfish named Whiskers -- in a bucket so he (she?) could be blessed, too.

V-frags

Today I thought I'd dish up a few video/visual frags as my contribution to Mrs. 4444s weekly Friday Fragments party. Hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

This first clip is my niece, Kate. I thought the funny part was her singing -- until I got to the "interruption," which just cracked me up!

Next up, if you're not a football fan, let me give you a little background. Last week the Indianapolis Colts played the New York Giants. Peyton Manning is the quarterback for the Colts. His younger brother Eli is the Giants' QB. The Colts (happily) trounced the Giants. This is a picture of Eli at the game:

Saw this one on Facebook yesterday. I sure don't miss the crying days, but I miss the cuddly days. Don't worry, the crying stops at about :52

Ok, the dog. She has chewed (beyond repair) my favorite pair of black sandals, Annie's flip flops, at least a dozen pencils, numerous Legos and who knows what else. She steals any food that is not guarded by the Secret Service. She is most definitely NOT housebroken. But she's staying because of sweetness like this:

That's it from here. Hope you have a great weekend!

10 things I learned before 6am

1. No matter how big the bed, the small boy will find it necessary to be within 1/4" of me.
2. I need to put pull-ups on the shopping list...and wash the sheets.
3. The dog must sleep in her crate, otherwise when I can't sleep and get up at 4:30am, the dog will think she can, too.
4. Not very many people are on Facebook at 5am.
5. It is possible to sleep while walking the dog.
6.  I can run for longer than I thought I could.
7. It's not cool enough to wear long sleeves for a morning walk yet.
8. I love people who have automatic sprinklers that offer a refreshing mist. The dog does not. Love those people that is. Although the dog also does not offer a refreshing mist.
9. We're out of Diet Coke.
10. I really should go to bed earlier.

A good morning

Today I had a good morning. I left the house about 6:30am to take Gabby for a walk. Though I would have liked for the humidity to have been lower, I was grateful for the quiet time to start the day.

Morning walks give me a chance to think and to pray about the day ahead, the people I love and the challenges that may be in front of me. Sometimes I even sing out loud while I'm walking -- though I try to make sure no one else is around. At 6:30 on a Saturday morning, you can be pretty assured of solitude. And if the dog minds my singing, she's never let me know.

On this morning's walk, I had plenty on my mind. Most of it involved turning the numbers of our budget over and over in my head, thinking about where we could make sacrifices and where it is money well spent. I could feel my anxiety level rising, so I just prayed "God, help me to trust that it will all be ok. Give me the strength to make the hard decisions where they need to be made."

As Gabby and I continued on our walk, I decided to take a different route than normal, in part to just change up the routine and in part because I wanted to go by the strip mall that burned to the ground earlier this summer and see the progress of the demolition that is underway. Nearing the grocery store, I decided to walk behind it so as to avoid Gabby sneaking up on anyone with a bag full of groceries, as unlikely as that would be so early in the morning.

Thinking again about credits and debits in our bank account, I walked down the alley behind the store and happened upon the dumpsters sitting out back. Several noises drew my attention (and Gabby's) and I encountered a man standing in the dumpster, looking for something. He didn't appear to notice me and I, a little embarrassed to have seen him there, walked on without saying anything. But inside, I was saying plenty.

"Ok God," I said to myself. "Things could be much worse. I know."

Who knows what that guy was dumpster diving for. Maybe it was food. Maybe he accidentally threw away his watch in the store's trash? It doesn't really matter. What matters is that seeing him there, standing in the dumpster and going through bags of who knows what, gave me some perspective.

I was still thinking about that man and the message that finding him there held for me when Gabby and I reached the fencing that barricades off what is left of the strip mall. I was curious to see how far the demolition crews have gotten, how much of the strip is recognizable. But as we approached, my first view was this:

I was struck by the color of the unattended flowers against the backdrop of soot and dirt and concrete rubble. And I was reminded of God's grace, which does not assure us that our lives will be without despair and difficulty, but which does provide the promise of His presence and comfort even as we are standing in the mess.

It was a very good morning.

Four Fragment Friday

It's Friday and you know what that means...Friday Fragments with Mrs. 4444s! I'm gonna keep it short and sweet today. (Gotta hop in the shower and then we're off to pick up Annie. PTL! because the estrogen has been in short supply at my house this week.)

1. I'm going to make a confession. Maybe it's embarrassing, maybe you all will say "Me too!" I like to watch "Say Yes to the Dress" on TLC. So I was really jazzed to find Tales from a Dressing Room, a blog written by an anonymous wedding dress consultant. It's like SYttD without the cable bill.

2. Read this. Share this. It's important enough that I am giving you the link twice.

3. Do you Swag? I'm coming up on $40 in free Amazon.com gift cards. It's easy. You search on SwagBucks.com like you would on Google or any other search engine. You randomly win SwagBucks. You can earn SB by answering the daily poll and finding daily codes (get them easily at Swagcodes.org) Then you save them until you have enough to buy a prize -- gift cards, t-shirts. I know there is more, but I just go for the Amazon.com gift cards. Anyway, if you want to Swag, click my link here and I'll get a bonus for the referral: http://www.swagbucks.com/refer/4thFrog

4. Is this a mellow dog or what?

Have a terrific weekend!

Dog days

Well, we've been dog owners for a little over 48 hours. Here's what's gone down around here:

• Dungy the cat hid under Charlie's bed for the first 16 hours. Then he ran outside and stayed there, watching the dog through the window for the next 6 hours. Then Annie brought him in to try to get them used to each other. There was some hissing, a feline swat, and Gabby yielded the floor to Dungy. They are not fast friends yet, but they are civil enough to be in the same room.
  
  
• Gabby has been on about 10 walks in two days. The kids fight over who gets to walk her. Anyone want to place bets on how long that lasts? Mike and I took her out for a walk tonight. She does great on the leash and doesn't bark at other dogs, even if they bark at her first. Wish I could get my kids to be so polite.
  
  
• Sunday night, Gabby barked for about 15 minutes after being put to bed in her crate. I ignored her. I'm good at that. I've had 13 years of practice ignoring whining, crying and yapping. Last night, she only barked for 10 minutes. Tonight, she dug in her heels a bit and didn't want to go, but I "persuaded" her fairly easily and she hasn't made a peep.
  
  
• I'm learning that the word "housebroken" is open to interpretation. It's nothing tragic. She does go potty outside, for which we praise her immensely. But she's also baptized a few spots in the house as well. I had a hunch buying that pet stain/odor remover would be a good idea.

All in all, it's been a great experience. Guess I'm not so crazy after all.