I just stumbled upon a recent picture of the very first guy I slept with (sorry mum and dad!). He was older than me by a pretty significant amount, and in retrospect, a bit of a loser (he, ahem, still lived with his parents when he was 37) but he was pretty damn attractive.
In this most recent picture? He looks very much like a tanned Elvis in a cowboy shirt.
I am oddly embarrassed by this.
We’ve had Dexter with us now for nearly six weeks. The first couple of weeks Hannah ignored him; she wouldn’t look at him, she walked away whenever he came near her and just generally did her best to pretend he didn’t exist.
But eventually she started to find him a little fascinating and would allow him to sit or sleep near her.
And a week or so after that, she allowed him to sit a little closer still…
Not for long, but still it was progress:
It wasn’t going fast enough for Dexter however so in a desperate bid for acceptance, he mimicked her ear placement:
That must have done the trick because before you could say “Bob’s your uncle”, she was playing with him. Unfortunately she tried playing with him the way she tried playing with Cuda. The first few days or so Dexter spent a lot of his time cartwheeling across the living room floor as Hannah smacked at him with her paws. He didn’t give up however and this past weekend they finally figured out how to play together.
Sure, it’s a lot like watching a chipmunk attack a bear but hey, they’re playing!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWD2nxnXX2I
What I love is how gentle Hannah is with him. She played so roughly with Cuda and is such an odd dog when it comes to other dogs that the most I ever hoped for is that her and Dexter would live together without active hostility. It’s not just watching her adapting her play style to suit his size but it’s how she so carefully nibbles on him and allows him to climb all over her head. When she’s had enough she lets him know with growling and teeth baring and Dexter is smart enough to know when to leave her alone. But since this weekend, she spends at least 20 minutes every day playing with him.
It’s enough to warm even my cold, black heart.
And just for fun - here’s Dexter shortly after we got him, relaxing on a pillow.
And here he is now.
Way back in the fall of 1996 Ben bought a columbian boa and named him Seth. 13 years later Seth is over 6 and a half feet long and is a pretty cool guy. Always mellow and willing to come out of his enclosure to hang out with us. Over the last few weeks he’s become rather hissy which is extremely unusual for him and allowed me, for the first time, to actually see the size of his teeth.
Columbian boa’s are constrictors but that doesn’t mean they don’t have teeth. Or that said teeth aren’t incredibly long and wickedly sharp. I’ve never been concerned about holding Seth; although I make sure that Ben is always in the room when I hold him. I have no wish to die because a pet snake has wrapped around my neck. I mean, you know that shit will end up on the evening news and they’ll have a video of our trailer and an extremely unflattering picture of my fat ass that makes me look so much like a trailer trash mama that no one will even question how I could possibly have been killed by a pet snake.
Where was I? Right…snake, big teeth. Sorry. So ever since I’ve seen Seth’s horrifically large teeth I’ve been even more respectful of his personal space when he’s wrapped around my waist. Luckily, he only seems to be hissy and grumpy when we’re trying to take him out of his enclosure, the hissiness and bad attitude doesn’t seem to extend to when we’re holding him.
Just before school started, Ben and I went to his classroom to clean Seth’s enclosure. He was hissy and grumpy but we chalked it up to the fact that his lights had burnt out in his enclosure so he was cold. However, while I was holding him I noticed a large lump and a smaller lump next to it on his back. We booked him a vet appointment with our reptile vet, Dr. Rae, for last night. After work, I stopped at the school, helped Ben take Seth out of his enclosure.
Me: Honey, how are we going to get him to the vet?
Ben: We’ll use this pillow case.
Me: Pillow case? He’s six and a half feet long; how the hell are you going to get him in the pillow case?
Ben: Easy. We’ll just stuff him in.
Me: Correction. You’ll stuff him in while I watch from a safe distance.
Anyhoodlehaw, we put Seth into his pillow case (it was surprisingly easy), closed his enclosure, shut Ben’s classroom and took him to the vet. Dr. Rae did a needle aspirate of the biggest lump and the smaller lump and in the course of his exam found about seven other small lumps all along his back. The needle aspirate really didn’t show anything and it’s nearly impossible to diagnose illness’ in snakes so we’re treating it like an infection. Every third day, we have to inject a thawed dead mouse with antibiotics and feed the mouse to Seth. Hopefully it’ll help, our only other option would be to sedate him and biopsy the lumps and reptiles are notoriously difficult to sedate.
After the vet visit, we stuffed Seth back into his pillow case, I washed my hands, and we started the drive back to the school. We were halfway there when Ben’s cell phone rang; because he hadn’t washed his hands after handling Seth, I answered it.
Me: Hello
Strange Woman: Is Ben there?
Me: He can’t come to the phone right now, can I take a message
Strange Woman: Um, well is he actually there because there is an emergency.
Me: As I said he can’t come to the phone. I’m his wife, can I -
Strange Woman: This is ******* (name withheld to protect the stupid) at the school. His snake has gone missing.
Me: Oh, we have him. We just took him to the vet.
Co-worker: Oh! The janitor just came and told me that Ben’s snake was missing and that it was huge and we had a serious problem.
Me: Nope, no problems. We’re just bringing him back from the vet now.
Co-worker: How on earth do you get a snake to the vet?
Me: In a pillow case.
Co-worker: A pillow case! Well I would never have thought of that.
Me: It works pretty well.
Co-worker: *laughing shrilly* Okay then. Hey, I didn’t even know that Ben had a snake.
Me: You’ve worked there over a year and never been to Ben’s classroom?
Co-worker: I guess not.
Me: Well, you’ll have to drop by his classroom and see Seth in his enclosure sometime.
Co-worker: Oh well, I don’t think so. See, I have a problem with wild bred pets being kept in cages. I don’t think it’s right, in fact I think it’s cruel and -
Me: Seth isn’t wild bred. He was born in captivity; if we let him free in the “wild” he would die.
Co-worker: Oh I’m even bothered by birds in cages, it’s just so cruel and they’re so sad and you know they aren’t happy and -
Me: *hangs up*
Me: I hate stupid people.
Ben: I know dear.
When we arrived at the school, Ben carrying Seth in his pillow case, said stupid co-worker, came flying into the foyer.
Co-worker: *laughing shrilly* Oh wow, look at him in his pillow case. He’s obviously not that big.
Ben: Well, he’s six and a half feet long and his body is about as thick as my arm.
Co-worker: Oh, he just doesn’t seem that big to me.
Me: He is.
Because we were in a hurry (we had to get Dexter to his second puppy kindergarten class), we quickly got away from her and headed to his classroom.
Me: Honey, I really, really hate stupid people.
Ben: I know dear.
Last night Ben and I were driving home from work and we were talking about our day. He told me a story about talking with a few of his students about movies.
Ben: The last movie I saw was District 9. I really liked it and was surprised by that because I hadn’t wanted to see it. My wife really wanted to see it and had to convince me to go.
Student: You didn’t want to see it? But your wife did?
Ben: Yes.
Student: She had to convince you to go?
Ben: Yes, that’s right. And I ended up really liking it so I’m glad we did.
Student: You must have a ballin’ wife.
Ben: Um thanks?
Me: So “ballin’ wife”, that’s a good thing?
Ben: Yeah, I think so.
Me: Crazy kids today with their crazy slang. Get off my lawn!
Last night I took Dexter to his very first Puppy Kindergarten class. It’s a small class, only about 8 dogs and a few of them weren’t there last night. Dexter is by far the youngest and the smallest. At the class last night there were five dogs, Dexter, two westies named Tucker and Chai, a five month old lab puppy named Stella and a chihuahua cross Chico. Chico was out of control crazy. It was more than a little amusing to watch him yank and pull on his leash and generally act like a giant pill. It was mostly an introductory class but near the end we did work on “sit” and “watch”.
Dexter already knows how to sit but “watch” was new for him and he did quite well at it. We’ll practice those two commands all this week so at next week’s class he’ll shine like the little shining star that he is. (Or shithead that he is - really at this point it could go either way).
At the end of the class we had a period of playtime for the puppies. Basically we took them off leash and let them have at it. Chico made a beeline for Dexter and was all over him; barking and mauling and jumping on him. Although a chihuahua cross, Chico still outweighed him by about 10lbs but Dexter was a pretty cool pickle about the whole thing. He let him sniff him and maul him a bit before Chico was distracted by Tucker the Westie wandering by.
Truth be told, Dexter played it pretty cool and aloof with the small dogs; he sniffed and was sniffed in return but really didn’t respond to their play invitations. I was starting to think he was one of those dogs who didn’t think he was a dog and therefore had no interest in playing with them until he saw Stella. The moment he spied that big old lab puppy bouncing around, his tail started wagging and he took off like a shot towards her. About six inches before he reached her he put the brakes on; unfortunately for him the floor was quite slippery. All four legs slid out from under him, and he somersaulted straight into her front legs like the world’s furriest bowling ball. He skidded to a stop between her front legs, flat on his belly, tail wagging furiously.
Stella leaned down and sniffed him curiously; Dexter licked her nose and then headbutted her. That was all Stella needed; she put her head down, bum wiggling and knocked him face first into the floor.
We had been told by the instructor to try not to interfere with how the puppies interacted with each other; that rough play, barking, licking etc. was all part of the socialization. As Stella began to push Dexter around the floor like a small fuzzy broom, I saw Stella’s owner stare at them his brow creased in a frown and hands clenched nervously in front of him. I wandered over and stood beside him as Dexter finally clamored back to his feet only to be promptly knocked to the floor once again by an enthusiastic paw shove from Stella.
Stella’s dad: Um, Stella seems to like Dexter.
Me: She sure does.
Stella’s dad: I’m wondering if maybe we shouldn’t try to encourage her to play with the bigger dogs.
Me: It won’t do any good.
Stella’s dad: Oh really?
He winced as Stella bounced enthusiastically in front of Dexter before swatting him with her paw and sending him skidding across the gym floor.
Me: Yeah, Dexter has a 40lb dog at home as a playmate, I think Stella is the only one he recognizes as an actual dog.
Stella’s dad: Ahh, I see. I wondered why Dexter went straight to her. He’s not intimidated at all is he?
Dexter bounced to his feet and pounced on Stella’s front paw, shaking it furiously in his mouth. Stella’s dad winced again when Stella shoved Dexter to the side, his little body rolling and tumbling across the gym floor. He relaxed when Dexter was approached by Chai the West Highland Terrier. They sniffed noses before Dexter turned and skittered back to Stella, latching on to her long tail and shaking his head back and forth like a puppy on crack. With one flick of her tail, Stella shook Dexter free and her dad took a nervous step forward when Dexter once again went cartwheeling across the gym floor, yelping before crashing into the wall.
Me: He’s fine; this happens all the time at home.
Stella’s dad: I’ve never seen a small dog so fearless before.
As the instructor walked over, I said:
Me: Yeah, we can’t figure out if he has balls of steel or brains of mush. Either way I figure playing with the big dogs will keep him tough. Although I do wish he’d at least realize that other small dogs are dogs too.
Instructor: Give him time; he’ll figure it out. but I’m really impressed at how happy he is. Most of our little dogs are quite nervous and shy.
Me: Dexter’s the King of Cool.
All in all, I think this class will be good for Dexter. If, that is, he survives being bounced around by Stella the lab puppy.
It’s no secret that I’m not, how can I put this delicately? A big fan of children.
At about the age of 20 I made the decision to be a non-breeder. I didn’t share that little tidbit of information around much because I always got the “You’re young, you’ll change your mind” speech that made me want to rip the eyeballs out of the person who was so smugly assuring me that sooner or later I would be popping out a kid from between my thighs while two doctors and eight interns all watched my hoochie koochie stretch to impossible widths.
Because believe me, any kid I delivered would have a noggin the size of a watermelon. Did you know that my head is 27 inches around? That’s the size of a super model’s waist… no wonder I can’t find a fucking hat to fit me. Ben has a lovely small head, but the kid would inherit my super sized head and after giving birth to it I’d never walk properly again.
Truth be told, I sort of like babies and small toddlers (despite the smell and the drooling) but I wouldn’t want them around 24/7. But once they’re past the age of five or so I have zero use for them. I don’t find them charming or funny or interesting to be around. Unless they’re doing useful things like washing my dishes, getting the tv remote or bringing me a beer I don’t find them that handy in the least.
Also? They are a lot of work. This past weekend I spent about six hours babysitting a friend’s three children, all under the age of 6. It was unbelievably difficult; all the demands and requests to “watch me do this Kelly, watch me! You’re not watching me! Are you watching me?” not to mention the baby that needed feeding and burping and diaper changing. It only confirmed that I made the right decision.
A puppy is difficult; but a baby? A baby is like being hit with a nuclear bomb. And there’s no escaping them - they’re around all the time and it’s not like you can just give them away once they start to really annoy you. And it’s not just an 18 year commitment - I was 27 years old and still bumming money from my mum for fuck’s sake.
I stumbled upon this little article (it was being passed around Facebook) and because I have a sick sense of humour, I laughed for at least 5 minutes straight. This has to be the most useful article ever created.
Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you - “How to Win a Fight Against 20 Children”
http://www.cracked.com/blog/how-to-win-a-fight-against-twenty-children/
Read this article. It’ll save your life someday.
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