I've been MIA lately for several reasons.
The first being that I haven't taken any pictures recently, and blog entries just don't seem as fun without a few poorly taken photographs. The second reason is I've been busy stressing out about Opie's pedicure appointment. We took him in to get his talons chopped last night, and I spent the 48 hours prior to our Petco dooms day sweating bullets and reminding myself to breathe. The thing is, Opie is not a big fan of the pedi's. He's been known to pop the occasional blood vessel in his eye, drop a gift on the grooming table, scream like a monkey, or fling his body entirely off the table, attached only by the lead connecting his head to the bar thing the groomers hook him up to. No joke. It's like some sick and twisted Indiana Jones move that no puggle mama should ever have to witness; but I did. Oh, I did. Clearly, both Opie and I have been traumatized when it comes to his nails getting the hack, which explains why I was mentally paralyzed in the hours leading up to his appointment.
I would have put it off longer, but anytime he came through the kitchen he sounded like a tap-dancing centipede due to the length of his talons and his hyper-active spastic movements across the kitchen floor. The Hubs and I finally threw in the towel and hit up Petco for the ten dollar pedi. When we arrived, I gave the groomer my talk of shame. All about how he's a drama king and how he should be muzzled and how he is super strong for such a little guy and how just about everyone who's ever tried to cut his nails has hated it and about how I can't do it myself anymore because any time I tried, he ended up yelping and bleeding all over the kitchen counter or the picnic table outside.
After my sob story, she looked at me like Ceasar Millan would probably look at me if he ever accepts my application and comes to my house to "rehabilitate my dog and train me". I got the look that says, "yeah. OK, lady. The dog is fine. You're the psycho. Just hand over the reins and let me show you how its done." And so I did. And I told the Hubs I couldn't watch but then I did because I didn't hear any screaming or any flailing...I leaned over the counter and saw that my sweet little puggle was taking it like a man. He was panting through the muzzle, so I cooed and cawed at him like he was a little three day old baby, and he just looked at me with the sweetest big brown eyes while the groomer sawed off his claws like it was a piece of cake. I couldn't believe it. My little puggle was all grown up. Or the few tactics the Hubs and I have tried to pull off since watching 3 episodes of The Dog Whisperer are actually working. He was like an entirely different dog while getting his pedi this go-around, and he earned himself one huge whopping smoked bone to enjoy all the way home...and under the computer desk as I write this. Which really bothers me. Because it stinks and it sounds nasty with him gnawing away on it, but I'm tolerating the madness on account of what a big boy he was at Petco.
Hmm...two paragraphs and 80 billion words about my dog's grooming behaviors and I'm back to being MIA. Third reason: the Hubs has the laryngitis. This guy has been fighting some kind of mammoth cold going on two weeks, and today his voice finally gave out. He called the doc, got some meds, has been downing popcicles like crazy, but is still feeling under the weather. Which is a real predicament for me. Because I'm usually the one around here making the puppy eyes and asking "can you please just get me a cup of water and 7 popcicles?" and laying around on the couch all day. I'm not sure how I feel about the role reversal. But it might be nice to watch American Idol tonight without reminding him to wait to share his commentary until the commercials because I want to hear the singers and Ellen, dangit!
Speaking of American Idol...not sure, folks. Just not sure. Why do these people choose such slow songs for the grand first night impression? I want to see some enthusiasm. Because when you're like me and don't know a thing about what is on pitch or off key, its really not a lot of fun to watch unless the contestants are dressed cute and bopping around like they know what they're doing up there. I'm hoping for more energy and some better attire from the men's round tonight. Because what else am I going to watch while I eat my popcicles if its another lame two hours of slow songs and too much glitter around the eyes? I'm really hoping they come through for me tonight.
Oh gosh. I guess when the Hubs can't talk and the dog is busy eating a bone all I really have to do with my evenings is write ridiculously long pictureless posts about nothing. Lo siento. Which if I remember correctly from all those years of Spanish class that have just about gone to waste because I never studied abroad or taught my dog how to "sientate" means "I'm sorry." Next time I'll try to snap a few pictures before posting. And maybe come up with some new material beyond "this is what my dog did today" and "I love popcicles".
But I really do love popcicles.
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