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Here's a little jingle I came up with yesterday morning on my drive into work - the Golden version of The Twelve Days of Christmas, inspired by Richie:
On the first day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
A pile of vomit on my brand new rug
On the second day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
Two chewed up houseshoes
And a pile of vomit on my brand new rug
On the third day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
Three trampled flowerbeds
Two chewed up houseshoes
And a pile of vomit on my brand new rug
On the fourth day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
Four muddy paws
Three trampled flowerbeds
Two chewed up houseshoes
And a pile of vomit on my brand new rug
On the fifth day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
Five tennis balls.....
Four muddy paws
Three trampled flowerbeds
Two chewed up houseshoes
And a pile of vomit on my brand new rug
On the sixth day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
Six hundred dollar vet bill
Five tennis balls.....
Four muddy paws
Three trampled flowerbeds
Two chewed up houseshoes
And a pile of vomit on my brand new rug
On the seventh day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
Seven hours of swimming
Six hundred dollar vet bill
Five tennis balls.....
Four muddy paws
Three trampled flowerbeds
Two chewed up houseshoes
And a pile of vomit on my brand new rug
On the eighth day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
Eight attempted squirrel murders
Seven hours of swimming
Six hundred dollar vet bill
Five tennis balls.....
Four muddy paws
Three trampled flowerbeds
Two chewed up houseshoes
And a pile of vomit on my brand new rug
On the ninth day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
Nine shredded socks
Eight attempted squirrel murders
Seven hours of swimming
Six hundred dollar vet bill
Five tennis balls.....
Four muddy paws
Three trampled flowerbeds
Two chewed up houseshoes
And a pile of vomit on my brand new rug
On the tenth day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
Ten lobotomized teddy bears
Nine shredded socks
Eight attempted squirrel murders
Seven hours of swimming
Six hundred dollar vet bill
Five tennis balls.....
Four muddy paws
Three trampled flowerbeds
Two chewed up houseshoes
And a pile of vomit on my brand new rug
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
Eleven broken ornaments
Ten lobotomized teddy bears
Nine shredded socks
Eight attempted squirrel murders
Seven hours of swimming
Six hundred dollar vet bill
Five tennis balls.....
Four muddy paws
Three trampled flowerbeds
Two chewed up houseshoes
And a pile of vomit on my brand new rug
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my Golden gave to me
Twelve mounds of dog hair
Eleven broken ornaments
Ten lobotomized teddy bears
Nine shredded socks
Eight attempted squirrel murders
Seven hours of swimming
Six hundred dollar vet bill
Five tennis balls.....
Four muddy paws
Three trampled flowerbeds
Two chewed up houseshoes
And a pile of vomit on my brand new rug
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Howdy to 85 Year Old Jen
So, I've always been intrigued by blogging. There are no rules governing what you can write about or how you write it. You don't have an English teacher looking over your shoulder telling you that this sentence is a run on or that one is a fragment. You can be as completely random as you want. It can be about something...or nothing, like Seinfeld. You can be deep...or shallow; serious or funny; joyful or melancholy.
All of this is great, but here's why I wanted to start blogging. First let me ask you this: Have you ever looked back on your life, say a few (or many) years ago like in college or high school, and felt like your memories were foggy? As if you can remember going to this event or party with this person or that person, but you can't remember what really happened? And no I'm not referring to an alcohol-induced fog. I'm referring to the fog that begins to cloud your memory as more time passes. I'm only 35...if I feel this foggy about things now, then what hope is there for me when I am 85? I'll be lucky if I can remember whether or not I've changed my Depends undergarments. I've realized recently that I should have kept a journal. Well, I had a journal in elementary school. It was incredibly profound. Every day I wrote about what we had for dinner. I think I would also write about playing My Little Ponies or what book I was reading (I read all the time when I was little.) But the really good stuff was never contained in a journal. Maybe that's best since there is no documentation that could be subpoenaed in the event of an incriminating historical incident. Nevertheless, I think it would be fascinating when I am 85 and have an empty slate for a memory to re-live my life vicariously through my journals. Add to this the fact that one of my aspirations in my younger years was to be a writer. So I figured if I start blogging, I can get my thoughts down and it will substitute for a journal of sorts. Maybe no one will read it, or maybe it will be boring, but when I am 85 and reacquainting myself with the thirty-something Jennifer, will I really care? Hell, I won't even know who my friends were by then. And if I do remember them, I'll probably be pissed off at them because aren't old people always mad about something?
This is why I wanted to blog. I did it...my first post. It was just as boring and pointless as I thought it could be. And I bet I've already managed to piss off my 85 year old self.
All of this is great, but here's why I wanted to start blogging. First let me ask you this: Have you ever looked back on your life, say a few (or many) years ago like in college or high school, and felt like your memories were foggy? As if you can remember going to this event or party with this person or that person, but you can't remember what really happened? And no I'm not referring to an alcohol-induced fog. I'm referring to the fog that begins to cloud your memory as more time passes. I'm only 35...if I feel this foggy about things now, then what hope is there for me when I am 85? I'll be lucky if I can remember whether or not I've changed my Depends undergarments. I've realized recently that I should have kept a journal. Well, I had a journal in elementary school. It was incredibly profound. Every day I wrote about what we had for dinner. I think I would also write about playing My Little Ponies or what book I was reading (I read all the time when I was little.) But the really good stuff was never contained in a journal. Maybe that's best since there is no documentation that could be subpoenaed in the event of an incriminating historical incident. Nevertheless, I think it would be fascinating when I am 85 and have an empty slate for a memory to re-live my life vicariously through my journals. Add to this the fact that one of my aspirations in my younger years was to be a writer. So I figured if I start blogging, I can get my thoughts down and it will substitute for a journal of sorts. Maybe no one will read it, or maybe it will be boring, but when I am 85 and reacquainting myself with the thirty-something Jennifer, will I really care? Hell, I won't even know who my friends were by then. And if I do remember them, I'll probably be pissed off at them because aren't old people always mad about something?
This is why I wanted to blog. I did it...my first post. It was just as boring and pointless as I thought it could be. And I bet I've already managed to piss off my 85 year old self.
A Great Christmas Gift!
What do you want for Christmas? Some games for your Wii, a computer, movies? What about something that is not quite so tangible? Sometimes those are the best gifts. That is kind of gift that I am getting this year: My two foster puppies are getting a forever home. While this is a tangible gift to them and to the family that is adopting them, it is also a Christmas wish that has been answered for me.
Three months ago, this was not my Christmas wish. In fact, I didn't know about these puppies three months ago. But it all started one fateful day in September. That's when I arrived with my family at my parents’ house in Livingston and happened upon two curious, yet timid puppies who were roaming about. After earning their trust, we began to feed them and tend to them.
We found out that these four month old puppies had been dumped days before. They ate as if they didn’t know when their next meal would come; their stomachs were bloated from malnutrition; and they were infested with fleas. Despite all of this, this male and female pair was sweet and loving. We spent the weekend caring for them and I tried my best to find a rescue group to take them. Sadly, rescue groups and shelters are currently overwhelmed, so this proved to be a challenging task. We finally found a rescue group in East Texas that arranged for a shelter in Houston to take them, so we loaded up the pups Sunday afternoon with the plan to drop them off Monday. We thought we’d say good-bye and that they would soon be placed in good forever homes. It was not that easy.
It turns out that they were going to euthanize the female because of a bump on her leg that was identified as a fungus. This is easily treatable, but also contagious, and the shelter has neither the time nor the resources to commit to any treatment, regardless of how simple. We found ourselves in a situation where we would either have to foster them or leave them there knowing that the female would be put down. There was only one solution – we would foster. We also had to name them - so they became Bella and Buddy.
I could not have fostered them by myself - my mom fostered in the beginning and then after I took over, she helped me by keeping them when I was out of town and letting them out during days when I was working long hours. We also had to load them up in the car with us one weekend when we all left town to go back up to the lake. Somehow, even though we weren't set up for this, we made it work. It was difficult, but I did enjoy having them and watching as they got healthy and socialized.
Bella and Buddy will spend a couple more weeks with me. The nice lady who is adopting them lives on three acres which are completely fenced in and secure. She and her husband have three kids who have wanted to open their hearts to a dog for years. Finally, mom decided that the time is right. She has already paid the adoption fee and will pick them up on Dec. 20th. They will stay at her in-laws during that week. Her in-laws will bring them over to their house Christmas morning to surprise the kids.
I don't know who I am more excited for: the kids or the puppies! Saying good-bye to them will be bittersweet. Taking care of them has been challenging and tiring, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't love them. I don't think that it is farewell though - I offered to dogsit for them should the opportunity arise.
So this Christmas gift is not just a gift for three lucky kids...it is a gift of lifelong companionship for the entire family; a gift of a safe and loving home for two scared puppies that were left for dead through no fault of their own; and it is the best Christmas gift I could ask for because I know that these sweet pups will be loved and cared for throughout their lives. I may not remember the book that I got for Christmas in 2007, or the DVD's I got for my birthday in 2008, but I will always remember the Christmas gift of 2009.
Merry Christmas Bella and Buddy!
Three months ago, this was not my Christmas wish. In fact, I didn't know about these puppies three months ago. But it all started one fateful day in September. That's when I arrived with my family at my parents’ house in Livingston and happened upon two curious, yet timid puppies who were roaming about. After earning their trust, we began to feed them and tend to them.
We found out that these four month old puppies had been dumped days before. They ate as if they didn’t know when their next meal would come; their stomachs were bloated from malnutrition; and they were infested with fleas. Despite all of this, this male and female pair was sweet and loving. We spent the weekend caring for them and I tried my best to find a rescue group to take them. Sadly, rescue groups and shelters are currently overwhelmed, so this proved to be a challenging task. We finally found a rescue group in East Texas that arranged for a shelter in Houston to take them, so we loaded up the pups Sunday afternoon with the plan to drop them off Monday. We thought we’d say good-bye and that they would soon be placed in good forever homes. It was not that easy.
It turns out that they were going to euthanize the female because of a bump on her leg that was identified as a fungus. This is easily treatable, but also contagious, and the shelter has neither the time nor the resources to commit to any treatment, regardless of how simple. We found ourselves in a situation where we would either have to foster them or leave them there knowing that the female would be put down. There was only one solution – we would foster. We also had to name them - so they became Bella and Buddy.
I could not have fostered them by myself - my mom fostered in the beginning and then after I took over, she helped me by keeping them when I was out of town and letting them out during days when I was working long hours. We also had to load them up in the car with us one weekend when we all left town to go back up to the lake. Somehow, even though we weren't set up for this, we made it work. It was difficult, but I did enjoy having them and watching as they got healthy and socialized.
Bella and Buddy will spend a couple more weeks with me. The nice lady who is adopting them lives on three acres which are completely fenced in and secure. She and her husband have three kids who have wanted to open their hearts to a dog for years. Finally, mom decided that the time is right. She has already paid the adoption fee and will pick them up on Dec. 20th. They will stay at her in-laws during that week. Her in-laws will bring them over to their house Christmas morning to surprise the kids.
I don't know who I am more excited for: the kids or the puppies! Saying good-bye to them will be bittersweet. Taking care of them has been challenging and tiring, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't love them. I don't think that it is farewell though - I offered to dogsit for them should the opportunity arise.
So this Christmas gift is not just a gift for three lucky kids...it is a gift of lifelong companionship for the entire family; a gift of a safe and loving home for two scared puppies that were left for dead through no fault of their own; and it is the best Christmas gift I could ask for because I know that these sweet pups will be loved and cared for throughout their lives. I may not remember the book that I got for Christmas in 2007, or the DVD's I got for my birthday in 2008, but I will always remember the Christmas gift of 2009.
Merry Christmas Bella and Buddy!
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