I just don't understand...

...how anyone could abandon this adorable sweetheart.



She was dropped off at the vet for a slight respiratory infection and never retrieved. I can't fathom why. She's as fine a specimen of an English Bulldog as you'll find. Someone paid fat stacks for her and then just left her.





I'm sure there could be a myriad of reasons as to why she was left and I'm very sorry for the person who had to make that decision. I am, however, very glad they chose to leave her somewhere responsible instead of on the roadside.

So now, please welcome the eighty fifth fourth canine member of our household. Miss TrixieBelle Lollipop. Why yes! Silas did name her. How did you know? Trust me, the name fits in well as our other dogs are:

Gus, also known as, Gustopher, Gustafson and Gustafarian;

Penelope Pitstop, aka Nellie, Nellie Goat and Smelly Nellie with the big belly;

and Betty Boop, aka The Boop, Boop Boop a Doop, and The Big Booper.

So I believe she'll fit right in. I'll be applying for my kennel license tomorrow. If you have any experience with Bulldogs and have wisdom to share, I welcome it. Meanwhile, I leave you with some puppy butt. You're welcome.

Nurse Ratchet can bite my old ass

Silas had an appointment for his physical yesterday. This was an appointment made back in August, that's how far out they book.

The poor thing vomited twice on the way there and I actually considered calling and rescheduling his appointment. Upon further consideration, I realized how silly that would sound. "Hi, my kid's too sick to come to the doctor!". That and the fact that he would be close to six by the time they rescheduled his 5 year appointment.

When we arrive, there is a sign on the door that says because of the increased volume of sick children, expect a delay. Joy! Happiness! More time to stew in the crockpot of viruses that is the waiting room.

We were taken back rather quickly to my surprise. The nurse sends us to the exam room and joins us shortly. She flips through his chart and asks who I am. Um, I'm his mother. She didn't even try to hide her incredulous look! "Oh, you are? " You could just see the fifteen question marks at the end of that question. I affixed her with the laser beams of death and asked "why wouldn't I be?" She had the temerity to look at me and say (with her hand on her hip, no less!) "well, frankly, I thought you were his grandmother". Yes! She did! So I killed her with my bare hands and we left.

I didn't really have a problem with her thinking it (ok, yes, I did) but more with the attitude in which she said it. I am forty one years old, so biologically I could be his grandmother, but she could have at least had the decency to be mortified, apologetic, and offer his appointment free of charge because of her error. Instead she's all "well frankly..."

I was still schooling Miss Thang in the error of her ways when the pediatrician came in. The pediatrician who is the same age as me. The one whose daughter was born six months after Silas. The one who was infuriated that she had just been mistaken for her daughters grandmother and complained to me about it at our last visit. Yeah....her.

I have an idea that even if Miss Thang thinks it, she'll never say it again. Never piss off two old broads with eighty years between them.

Those who have incurred my wrath

Updated to add that I was unaware of Mrs. Flinger's Brutally Honest Monday's when I wrote this.

I need for you to be brutally honest with me today. I'm going to tell you of two interactions with people who raised my ire. You tell me if a) I was justified in my reactions; b) I am a complete and utter social moron who should never be allowed in public again; or c) somewhere in the middle. Tell it like it is now. I'll only cry for a bit and I can't count on anyone else to be true.

Interaction 1:

Because of the isolated area we live in, my husband is convinced that we will get robbed if we don't get another home security system (aka "a big dog"). I reluctantly concur that he may have a point. We are the only house in our subdivision that hasn't been broken into, largely due, we think, to Maximus . The husband had this in mind when he made an appointment to look at some puppies at a nearby farm.

We arrived and spent about half an hour playing with the puppies and checking out the parents. Chatting with the gentleman revealed him to a registered nurse, his wife an elementary school teacher. Near the end of the visit, said wife arrived with their adorable two year old daughter. She was pregnant with their second.

While we're chatting, the little one decides to take off her shoes to feel the grass on her feet. Her mother told her to put them back on. When she didn't, the mother explained that she could get something in her foot and that this was her warning. The little one ignored her, as little ones are wont to do. With no indication that anything was amiss, the mother snatched the little girl up hard enough to snap her head back, whipped her around and hit her bottom, HARD.

I was gobsmacked. I really didn't think the behavior warranted such a forceful punishment. I closed my mouth, turned around and offered the gentleman my hand. I thanked him for his time and told him that we wouldn't be giving him a deposit on a puppy today. As this was a complete change of heart from two seconds ago, he was understandably taken aback. In answer to his questions, I told him I wasn't interested in an animal that had probably been abused. He was offended that I insinuated that he'd mistreat his animals. I said, "Good grief, man! Your wife just hit a baby, I can only imagine how the animals are treated."

He rightly pointed out that it's none of my concern how he raises his kid. I agreed that of course it's not, but when it's indicative of how the animal that I'm about to bring into my home, around my kid, has been treated, it becomes my business.

I took my leave in a huff. My husband was lagging behind, most likely mortified. I yelled back "don't you dare apologize for me!" because I just know that's what he was doing. I don't feel I was out of line. I made no judgement on the mother. She may have been having a bad day, we all do. But the fact remains that if you're willing to hit a baby, you probably won't hesitate to kick the dog.

So now, poppets, tell me. Complete and inappropriate over reaction? Justified concern? Could you possibly care less?

Tomorrow....interaction #2!!

Dollah Dollah Bills, ya'all

Guess what I've done this week? Well, mostly nothing. But when I wasn't doing nothing, I was spending money. LOTS of money. And not on anything good like an Iphone or Prada bag. No, I dropped may-jah dollahs on an engine. For a dump truck. I usually don't talk about work stuff here (you know, I have been blogging for all of month now, so I can say usually, right?) because it's, well, boring. But I just have to get some opinions. If someone you hired to do a job neglected certain aspects of that job and the result of that neglect cost you upwards of $30,000, what would you do? OK, good answers. Now, let's say that the person is a family member that you have to interact with every day of your everlasting life (because he totally is). Now, what would you do? Little harder, huh?

As an aside, I don't mean to sound like I'm rolling around in the money over here. Trust me, after this little debacle, the only thing I'm rolling in is dirt. I guess it could've been worse.