Wild Man Charlie

So the last time I actually sat down and wrote something for this blog was in September. And it was about my family’s dog, Lucy.

The reason I haven’t really written since September also has to do with a dog. Only this time it’s my dog. That I am solely in charge of.

Yes you heard that right. Let me start at the beginning. But first, here he is, Charlie, the monster. Note the resemblance to the dog from “Up.”

unnamed

There hasn’t been a time in the past few years, that I haven’t been searching for a puppy. Especially before I moved back home with Mom and Dad, and again when I moved out. I can’t tell you how many times I visited the Kentucky Humane Society website and imaginary-adopted puppies/dogs.

I had to stop after a while because I was saving money and they were looking more and more affordable and I wasn’t ready for all that yet. Home first, then, once I figured out how to be a homeowner, I’d be a pet owner.

But life doesn’t work that way. And I’m so glad it doesn’t.

Late in the summer, I puppy-sat for my cousin, Blake, and his girlfriend, Amanda’s dog, Molly. She’s a black lab and she’s adorable and crazy and I had her for a week while they went to the beach.

Despite the two days she peed in the house and the night she tore her entire bed into tiny little pieces, I realized I really liked having some company in my house, especially the four-legged kind.

I told Amanda and Blake as much when they got back to pick Molly up, and mentioned if they knew anyone looking to give up a dog to a good home, to let me know, meanwhile, the trolling of the Humane Society site and the imaginary adoptions began again.

Fast-forward to mid-September. Amanda texted me, wanting to know if I’d be interested in a 9-month-old Golden Retriever puppy. Golden Retriever, as in the only kind of dog I’ve ever had, the kind I one day wanted, no matter how much I looked at other breeds of dogs and tried to convince myself otherwise.

The puppy was a boy, named Charlie. And he’d had a rough time. His owners, a young couple, had gotten him around the same time they had a baby. Now they’d broken up, and the girl couldn’t keep him. And she didn’t want to leave him with the guy, because he’d been beating up on Charlie with a belt.

I didn’t hear anything after that. I said I’d take him. I think she mentioned he was free, and house-trained, and they’d bring his food and a crate and his leash to me Sunday if that would work and he’d had his shots….

Gone was the idea of getting this tiny little baby puppy and naming him Hank, because I’d for some reason gotten stuck on that name, and no it’s not because of Breaking Bad.

Also these are the three pics she sent me to “try and convince me” and honestly after that one with the snow came through I may have passed out:

IMG_0989

IMG_0988

IMG_0987

So the day we met…

On our first walk, Charlie tried to choke himself. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever witnessed and I am really glad I wasn’t alone because I would have lost it.

You see, in prep for him to come live with me, I didn’t get him a new collar. I figured he had one, and he did, but it was a shitty one. It was one of those chains and since he’s a puppy and he was anxious and he didn’t know better yet, he pulled and pulled and it got too tight. He started walking like he was drunk and sat down hard on the ground and that’s when we realized it and loosened it up. That’s also when I felt like the shittiest dog owner ever. Great start, right?

We tried the crate for a while, and he hated it. It lasted approximately two weeks.

He only pooped in the house once that first week, and I blame Rachel. She got him too excited and he started going and then we yelled for him to stop and he ran, while still pooping, and like it often is with gross stuff that happens when Rach and I are together, I cleaned it up while she kept him occupied.

Those first few weeks months were more hard than not. I was dealing with a dog that had been through some bad stuff, and didn’t know how to handle it. He was taken to a new home, completely different environment. Was still a PUPPY. I think that was the hardest part. I was a kid when we’d first had both of our dogs at Mom and Dad’s. Mom handled the training and we just got to play with the puppy. I had no clue.

He chewed so much stuff. He jumped on the couch, which I first tried to stop but then gave up on. #chooseyourbattles

Like I said, he hated the crate, so when that was no longer an option, he stayed in the part of my house that has no carpet, because it was easier to clean. Then we dealt with his separation anxiety – I was in my bedroom where I wasn’t allowing him, and he was pissed and stressed. So for a while, I had to set up this elaborate thing that kept him out of the living room while I put the gate in front of my bedroom because he could PUSH IT OPEN.

Did I mention he’s just turning one this month and came to me the size of a bear? So, reallll easy to control…

Yeah.

So this all sounds like he was a pain, doesn’t it? Well, most — 98 percent — can be attributed to me, having not been a puppy owner. I had no idea how to train him. Add to that all his other anxieties and fears from his last home and, well, yeah, there were many frustrated texts to my mom.

And thennnnnn we got training. Once a week, we’d meet at the pet store with other dogs and learn manners and tricks and how to behave, kind of.

The first two nights at training I cried after. He was so scared, and I hated it for him. He doesn’t like other dogs and it took all my strength to keep him from running at them, even on his leash. He didn’t sit the entire first two classes either. He stood, and panted. I thought he’d never feel or do any better.

And then he did.

Every week at that training he got better and better, learning things so fast and one week, he was the only one who went through the tunnels on the first try. I was a proud momma. We got “Most Improved” at the end of our classes.

FullSizeRender

And things got better and better at home, too. He got more used to me and his house and what he was and wasn’t allowed to do and we worked on things.

Some days are still hard, because he’s still a puppy and still had a hard time before me. And because I’m the only one who lives with him and have to be gone some weeks more than others.

But the good outweighs the bad now and I cannot remember life before him. And don’t want to. There was one night that was particularly hard. I ended up crying on the floor of the entryway after a call to my dad about how hard it had been that day with Charlie had resulted in him saying “If it’s too hard and you need to give up, people will understand.”

So I sat on the floor, crying and petting Charlie. And he licked the tears off my face and I kept saying “I’m NOT giving up on you.”

And I won’t.

Now, he sleeps at the end of my bed – sometimes on the floor, sometimes on my feet. He doesn’t pull on walks, he listens (most of the time). He cuddles in the morning. He watches shows with me. He’s a different dog than when I first got him. But so much is still the same. I don’t want to change him, I just want him to feel better and more comfortable and happy. And we’re getting there, every day.

I miss him when I’m not home, and I kind of want to get him a vest to take him everywhere like a service dog, but he behaves NOTHING like a service dog, so that would last about 3 seconds.

He came to live with me at a time when my depression was starting to get a little bit bad again and despite the stressful parts, he helped me, so much. Nothing gets you over and distracted from your own anxieties and bullshit like having to take care of another living thing.

If you want to see an obsessive amount of pics, follow me on Instagram. And look at the pictures in the slideshow at the bottom of this post.

But for now, some important lists, because, do you remember who’s writing this?

Things Charlie has chewed up and/or chewed a hole in:
– Two comforters
– Part of a mattress pad
– Carpet
– Pair of yoga pants
– Three shirts
– A pen
– The curtain that hangs on the window on my front door and all the pieces that hold it up
– A pillow
– Two towels
– $10 cash

Nicknames he has accrued:
– Wild Man Charlie (From his training class teacher)
– Charles
– Chahles (said w/British accent)
– Charlie (also said with British accent)
– Babe
– Baby
– Bubbie
– Bubba
– Bub
– Buddy
– Turd

In all seriousness though, he’s the best. And he’s my buddy, and I will forever be grateful that I was thought of when he needed a new, good home.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Advertisements

Sounds familiar XV

As if I would kick this important week off with anything else…

Sounds like…Me
(850): Although I am concerned about who made the decision to let you loose in a bridal show I am proud to see you in a sombero again.

(610): I think she’s perpetually drunk
(484): It’s all she knows.

(484): Did you ask me to bring you a t-shirt to class or did I just dream that?
(732): No, I did. It’s a long story.

(484): they paper machayed me.
(215): i told you … never pass out drinking with preschool teachers.

(520): Apparently while trying to get up from vomiting in the toilet I grabbed the seat cover for leverage and smashed my own head between it and the bowl. I don’t remember this.

(803): happy find a boyfriend by next Valentines Day. Its like a new years resolution but depressing.

(571): How dare you. Idk what you called me, and neither does google translate, but you better take it back.

(832): He’s just giving off this “someone be a bitch to me” vibe.

(610): My feelings are currently in a sea of vodka and “I don’t give a shit”
(1-610): Aren’t they always?

(817): I should know better than to trust a man I’ve seen cry on multiple occasions to give me accurate sports information.

(712): We could be hammered at a childrens film. You failed me.

(310) I do. There’s a bald-headed guy whose kinda hot. I might rub his head. I’ve only had 2 beers.

(336) why am i a bad person? you were the one trying to get epode to eat tape.

(678) stop it. you sound like you’re giving birth.

(703) Last night was so much fun. I kept trying to lick everyone.

(401) I just puked in a plastic bag at a red light, go me.

(705) I want to miss work tomorrow on account of violent projectile vomit. make it happen.

Sounds like…Rachel
(512): I totally just somersaulted to the bathroom to avoid moving out of my fetal position
(1-512): I don’t know if I should be concerned or impressed.

(215): It’s like the bermuda triangle of cat puke.

(304): you should have walked with me to my car. you just missed a girl rip off her bra and throw it into a dumpster and scream mardi gras.

(850): I think that the jello shots in bowls is where it all went wrong.

(760): I love you. Happy valentines. Satin Patricks dayyyyyyyyyy. Alreadythrew up. Geeeeerait.

(785): Um…any recollection of peeing in the pantry.

(541): I will never in my life forget you letting the cat lick your tongue.

(801): Ya he’s alive. Apparently he’s been drinking Naty and listening to Unbreak My Heart on repeat all day.

(585): Dude. That is just waaaay to much random to process after that tequila battle.

(314): I’m in a bed full of sand, and also just took my contacts out. Whatever happened yesterday was great, I think.

(309): Yeah he got kind of mad when he found out he had chased his last two shots with a combination of orange soda, water, and used mouth wash.

(925): Ahahhahaha I’m not that stupid but then again I thought cabo was in Africa until yesterday.

(401): remind to leave next time the words “tequila” and “challenge” are shouted.

(316): I just threw up over a bridge. I didn’t even know there was a bridge in this town. Vodka is like a transportation device.

(219) just witnessed a bar fight started by a guy wearing a construction vest because he didn’t like the other guy’s shirt.

(614) woman puking in liquor store parking lot at 9:30 a.m. on a tuesday morning = best commute ever

(914) I just tried to unlock my house with the car remote.

Sounds like…Sami
(573): Mcdonalds hasn’t even finished serving breakfast yet and u two are getting drunk?

(574): It’s 10AM, she’s drunk blaring veggie tales and I have a paper to write you’ve got to be effing kidding me.

(306): We’re bowling with a frozen turkey in the hallway…ur missing out.

(919): I have a cut on my head from a tambourine.

(949): ‘Well you know, stuff happens’ isn’t really an excuse for sticking a cheeto in my ear.

(517) wow that girl who lives a couple houses down is going out wearing butterfly wings a skirt and fishnets

(405) grape juice and vodka is not wine

(860) So two questions…why am I covered in muffins and are there pictures of this.

(760) We walked in and the first thing we heard was “OH SHIT! White chicks!” Naturally I made some new male friends.

(505) The last thing I remember was convincing you to hide in the fridge and then taking everything out and you not fitting.

Sounds like…Jennifer
(763): It was like you were trying to communicate only you were using every letter of the alphabet but in no order and in a different language.

(314): I just tried to text you by typing “whoa” into my contacts.

(814): What should we drink tonight, I’m in the mood to be judged.

(406): I defriended her. I just can’t support someone whose profile picture is of their water birth.

(507): I feel like our low point of the night was when we had to start chasing with ice cubes and wheat thins.

(757): I just learned a new drink. Sloppy Ninja. Half Saki Half Nyquil.

(910): I tried to lock you in the bathroom stall because you were too drunk. But you escaped from underneath, I gave up.

(315): Who is Katie and why do we have her birthday cake?

(707): At one point last night I over heard you say ” I’m gonna puke in a bag and pour it down your throat” I LOVE YOU.

(914): I’m in charge of his party but you’re a paramedic, we’re both needed.

(208) please don’t make me drink to the titanic soundtrack.

(260): DONT EVER DUNK OREOS INTO WINE . NEVER.

Sounds like…Liz
(770): Just saw a midget on a motorcycle. Best sight for a hangover ever.

(303): So I just chugged the rest of the wine in my mug so I would have something to eat my corn flakes in. With a plastic fork. I need a dishwasher
(312): And maybe a life coach?

(201): He’s cheating on her.
(973): Are you sure it wasn’t her?
(201): I have my glasses on, and as long as she didn’t change her face in the past two months; its her.

(403): I’m going to practice throwing things up the the air and catching them between my boobs, because that seems like a cool party trick.

(303): Sharing a bathroom with a guy sucks. I always have to set an alarm for the middle of the night just so I can take a dump. Poop text btw.

(678): You played “let it burn” by usher 28 times, knocked over the 36 gallon fish tank, and passed out in the kitchen. Yeah…That drunk.

(814): I feel like delivery guys should know that when you order lunch for one and answer the door wearing sweatpants, there’s no need to say “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

(516): Maybe tomorrow I’ll be drunk again and can provide you with texts at a more reasonable hour. Here’s hoping. GOodnight. Tebow loves you.

(843): God I feel like the rain man of hangovers.

(724): Like do you hear me I PUKED IN MY OWN HANDS AND HE STILL SAID I WAS GORGEOUS.

(403): And then you proceeded to sneak behind the bar and hold up an empty bottle of vodka and scream LOOK WHO THE BARTENDER IS NOW BITCH!

(412): I am self-sufficient. I puked in a wine glass and emptied it in the trash. Points for style and neatness.

(870): Say hello to your nephew Sir Isaac Meriwether van Catsworth
(1-870): I’m going to have to start taking your phone after ten. That’s when all the cat pictures come.

(781): And I would just like to take the time to say my boobs look great today.

(518) I just sneezed alcohol into a candle and started a fire

(416) bitches at mcdonalds actin like they never seen a girl puke in her own coat pocket before.

(443) my #1 goal this summer is to get drunk at olive garden.

(415) just learned how to deliver a baby, the things I saw tonight cannot be unseen.

Sounds like…Caitlin
(405): It’s ok, I may have just peed outside your car and used your whataburger napkins. Hope you weren’t saving them for a special occasion.

(570): I told my mom about how you got white girl wasted and sobbed about Whitney Houston. She sends her condolences.
(484): tell her thanks so much.

(952): Beer pong consisted of me throwing a ball at the wall and then falling over because moving my arm made me dizzy. I think our team lost.

(608): It was more like a tour de entire bottle of wine in 14 minutes.

(231): Beer and cheesecake and spinning in cirlcles why did you let me do this to myself.

(908): I’ve decided I’m gonna attack people with the toilet plunger.

(843): I just brushed my teeth. In the car. With watered down Sprite. From Saturday. Multi-tasking at its finest.

(714): She twisted her ankle and paid a homeless guy for a piggy back ride home from the bar.

(802): I did too many shots and now a kitten is trying to eat my bagel.

(303) it tasted disgusting. but i pretty much drank it in the name of science. and free alcohol.

(319) nothing says happy birthday jesus like a shot with your loved ones

Sounds like…Anthony
(201): We should start a Help That Bitch Out Fund and split the donations evenly between you two.

(864): He looks like he’d be great Lego character.

(704): So it sounded like a midget was barfing IN our walls again this morning…

(713): Listening to Whitney Houston sing the National Anthem while I shit before going out tonight. America.

(203): I pulled some girls weave trying to pull the stop cord on the bus.

(724): I have no idea. There are 6 asians singing hey soul sister to me right now.

(205): I kind of feel like BP. I’m dressed in green and absolutely horrible for the environment.

(248): Please be advised that because of last year’s “incident” we will no be starting St. Pat’s day with spicy breakfast burritos and car bombs. Please plan accordingly.

(541): You were a path of destruction, you started with eating half the cake, proceeded by throwing the rest in the sink and dumping water all over it while laughing… then throwing the drunk helmet across the room yelling that you didnt want to wear it… i’d say it was a successful birthday.

(401): I tried to sit on a barstool last night…it was an open trashcan.

(360) not only did i manage to get kicked out of the bar, I also got kicked out of denny’s. I didn’t even know that was possible.

(415) I was so drunk I thought Kathy Griffin was funny.

That shit cray

Y’all might have heard I have a Twitter.

On that Twitter I follow people, and they follow me.

(My dad is confused already, I bet.)

One person I don’t follow, but debate doing so at least once a month is Kanye West. Why? Because he’s insane.

He tweets a lot so it can get kind of annoying (kind of like when I watch Hoarders and live-Tweet my reactions, amiright?) but the things he says are so off-the-wall most of the time, it’s almost worth it.

And people are doing all kinds of fun stuff with his crazy.

Like the lady who cross-stitches his Tweets and sells them in her etsy shop

And then there is that video of Josh Groban singing them.

Well. The newest one I’ve found takes it to a whole other level. Someone has taken the words of wisdom from Mr. West and put them on screencaps of Saved By The Bell.

It’s called Kanye’d By The Bell and even though they don’t seem to be updating it anymore (or at least they haven’t since November), there are four pages of crazy goodness to enjoy.

The creepiness of the music of the night

More often than not, friends and family members will pass along things that they’ve seen/heard at their jobs they know I will enjoy.

This is the reason I have a ceramic bear holding a heart that says “Your sweet.” (Your sweet what?)

It’s also the reason you’ve gotten to read the chronicles of cubicle neighbor-dom.

For me, it reinforces the fact that I want them all to have blogs of their own, because these aren’t the first funny or crazy things that have happened to them and I’m sure they won’t be the last.

But since they don’t have blogs of their own, they pass them on to me, meaning I get to share them with you.

And this one’s a doozy.

My sister works for company that puts on concerts, plays and other events throughout the year. And a lot of people ask her place of business if they can get tickets donated.

She does the same thing for every one of them – sends them a form letter that tells them they won’t be donating the tickets. All well and good, until the crazies reply again.

So she forwarded me an e-mail reply she got this week – keep in mind this was really sent for no reason at all though, conversation was done – where, according to Rach, she basically says “Oh it’s OK you can’t give us the tickets. By the way, look at this freaky picture of my grandkids.”

Yeah. She thanks Rach for her response but also decides to share a story about how her kids and grandkids loved “Phantom of the Opera.”

“They loved it so much and learned some of the songs,” she wrote.

Don’t believe it? Well that’s OK, ’cause she sent a picture for proof.

There are no words. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to dry my eyes from crying from laughing so hard.

Decapitation and Detectives

Maybe it’s because I keep watching True Blood right before bed. Maybe it’s because I saw Sherlock Holmes on New Year’s Eve and haven’t been able to NOT think about Robert Downey Jr. – or Jude Law for that matter – since. Maybe the Weight Watchers Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream has drugs in it. Maybe all this insomnia is finally getting to me.

Whatever it is, it is giving me some CRAZ-AY dreams. Yes, I realize that is not how the word is spelled, but, ya’ll, the “A” is for emphasis (even though it should be “E” for emphasis…).

I’m thisclose to giving a notebook and pen a permanent home on my nightstand so I can write this crap down the second I wake up, otherwise it tends to get a little fuzzy and I forget.

Recently, though, two of my dreams were so random and one was so seriously messed up, that I still remember a good portion of them, or at least the important points.

First one was right after Christmas, even though it wasn’t Christmas-y AT ALL. I don’t remember how it happened or why, but in the dream, I had been decapitated.

Let that sink in for a minute or two. De.cap.i.tat.ed. As in MY HEAD HAD BEEN CUT OFF, kids.

Not only that, but somehow, miraculously, I woke up (in the dream) in the hospital, where they had apparently succeeded in re-attaching my head. No one else was in the dream – that I can remember – except me and whoever the doctor was. And then, this guy came in my hospital room with a flier for an event. That he wanted me to make sure GOT PUT IN THE NEWSPAPER. And I was like, “Um, my head just got cut off and re-attached. I don’t have time for typing things up right now.”

The other one I can still remember happened over the weekend. On Dec. 31, I saw Sherlock Holmes – great movie, you should see it, if not for the amazingness that is RDJ and Jude Law, at least go for some awesome previews. A couple days later, Robert Downey Jr. was in my dream. I don’t remember how the dream started, or really what all was going on.

All I know is I was in the parking lot of my church and RDJ was running around inside the church. And for some reason, we weren’t allowed to go in and get him. The middle of the dream is fuzzy, but I do remember that he came back outside at the end. After that, I woke up.

Second one is a lot less crazy than the first, and trust me, I’ve looked up what it means to dream about decapitation. It was interesting. As was what it means to dream about celebrities and the church. Apparently there are different interpretations depending on if you saw the church from the inside or the outside.

I couldn’t find anywhere where it said what it means to dream about Robert Downey Jr. Guess it just means I’ll have to go see Sherlock Holmes again. Darn.

I ♥ Lucy

Our family’s pet – a golden retriever named Lucy – recently turned seven years old. I say pet, not dog, because we’re not entirely sure that she’s not human.

She has weird habits, like having to have some part of her touching one of us at all times, whether that’s sitting as close as she possibly can to my dad’s chair without actually being on his lap – though she would in a heartbeat – or lying in front of my mom’s chair with her paw on one of my mom’s feet. She begs to lick the beaters after my mom’s done using them for baking, just like a little kid. She drives us crazy sometimes, my dad most of all, I think, but she’s a good dog.

She lets us dress her up to look like a boy scout or Yenta from Fiddler on the Roof – “Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match..”

She will wear a T-shirt sleeve on her head if we want her to – and it makes her really happy! And she will arrange her toys in a pile, all OCD-like. She takes after me in that way.

She is afraid of dogs that are relatively the same size as her head. And she really, really loves ice cream, which she got for her seventh birthday as a treat a couple of weeks ago.

Like I said, crazy. And spoiled. But I do love her.

Tyra is nuts.

Just a few thoughts on America’s Next Top Model – which starts tonight – which I continue to watch though almost everything about it drives me as insane as Tyra actually is. I watch it to see what they do for the photo shoots and what the pictures end up looking like. And the runway stuff is pretty cool. But that’s really it.

Some observations:
• I am fairly sure Tyra only picks people that are HUMONGOUS fans of hers. That’s the only way she can get every contestant to scream and act like an idiot every time she comes in the room.
• Why must she talk in an accent at some point every season? She’s not good at them.
• I know at the end of this episode she’ll tell them the prizes, and introduce the judges – which she will do THE ENTIRE SEASON. Why? We know already.
• Why are they called cycles and not seasons like every other TV show? Oh, ’cause Tyra’s ridiculous.
• What made Ms. J qualified to judge and teach runway walks?
• Why do they find some of the dumbest, craziest girls to be in this competition? Oh, ’cause it makes good TV.

They’ll probably not pick my favorite to be the winner. That’s how it was last season. I hate last SEASON’S winner..she annoyed the crap out of me. Whitney was good. but McKey was horrible.

And why do I watch? I don’t know. But I can’t look away. At least I can mute it every time Tyra talks. 🙂

The Real World is not real.

For some strange reason I keep subjecting myself to the RIDICULOUSNESS that is MTV’s The Real World.

Why, you ask? Maybe because it makes me feel better about myself. I am thankful that neither I nor anyone else in my life are that crazy. Where do they find these people? They’ve all got some sort of issue, are borderline alcoholics and sleep around way way way too much. They think being fired and sent home from the show is some crazy thing, when really, how hard is it to do an awesome job (because they only pick kickass things for the roommates to do, another way the show is not real life), every day when the only other thing you have to worry about is how much rum you’re gonna drink in your FREE AMAZING HOUSE.

Here’s just a few reasons why it’s not real.
• No one lives in houses that nice for free without having to do anything at all to earn it….
• If seven people lived together in real life, there’s less of a chance they’d all be that effing insane.
• In real life, YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR THINGS, you don’t just get them for free.

And finally, this may be the most important one – because I know it’s the one that frustrates me the most – in real life, people don’t say the phrase THREW ME UNDER THE BUS that often. In fact, besides on reality television, I’ve never heard that phrase in my day-to-day life.

Oh MTV, remember when you played videos?