a dog’s life, butts and otherwise

Owning a dog demands a certain willingness to abandon even the illusion of dignity, often within your own home.  Sure, your adorable pooch could beg for scraps during Thanksgiving dinner, but she’s just as likely to air out her nether regions on the dining room floor.  No matter that cousin Missy wants to impress her new fiancé – as far as dog priorities go, hooches are high on the list.

No matter your family traditions, your decor, your station in life – it’s hard to act all snooty while there’s a furry va-jay-jay flopping around on the floor.

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I didn’t even know an eyeball could do that. Yikes.

Gracie gets a lot of play on RFTM.  Not because I’m amping up her antics – if anything, I might be playing them down so we don’t look like totally irresponsible pet owners – but because I find writing about her cathartic.  Somehow being able to send “my dog ate my lunch, a sponge, and half the kid’s shoe” out into the universe helps keep the pet crazy in perspective.  It helps me remember, no matter what nonsense she throws my way, Gracie’s lovey doveyness more than balances the scales.


Plus she’s never actually needed ER intervention.  Which is more than I can say for these two.


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well deserved canine notoriety (you can call her Gracie Baby)

So it seems Gracie’s famous, and why shouldn’t she be?  Furry, cuddly, adorable, with energy to spare and big brown eyes that melt even the hardest heart.  She’s famous for much more than her looks though.  Gracie’s ability to devour everything from household items to massive amounts of food is a big part of her notoriety.

Well, that and the fact that we haven’t tossed her out the front door yet.

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Report vs. Reality: doggy day care style (spoiler alert – my dog steals your dog’s food)

We have the best kennel ever.  I won’t lie, geography is a huge positive.  It’s awesome that they’re right down the street, but it’s really the people who make it special.  Those folks love my dogs as much as I do, and believe me…Gracie and Phoebe know it. 

These two scamps spend time in doggy day care while they’re sleeping over at Mike’s place (as I like to put it), and without nanny cams I often find myself wondering where the real truth lies in how they did during their stay.

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odds and ends 9/14/17

1.  Every time I see a map I still think of the West Wing episode with cartographers telling C.J. that the globe is wrong.  That relative size and even the location of certain countries is inaccurately represented on the world map we currently use. 

2.  My favorite part is when they demonstrate the need to flip northern and southern hemispheres.  C.J.: “But you can’t do that.”  Cartograher: “Why?”  C.J.: “Because it’s freaking me out!”  (Seriously.  Watch the clip here and tell me your mind isn’t blown.  You’ll never look at a globe the same way again.  Plus you’ll giggle.  Win/win.)


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Bear’s nicknamed her “Hoover”

Gracie’s been busy as ever.  Playing with BrightSide, going for walks with the kids, romping with the other dogs at doggy daycare while we’re out of town…and managing to wreak her own special brand of havoc when the chance arises.

Here’s what our girl’s been up to since her last update:

**  A bowl of turkey chunks.  Sadly (for her), Gracie didn’t have enough time to eat them all.  As a compromise, she contented herself with devouring a few pieces while licking everything in the bowl.

**  Tissues.  Tissues, tissues, always with the tissues.  Kleenex ought to be paying us dividends at this point.

**  Bear’s Sunday School craft.  You know those crafts kids present proudly when you pick them up from the classroom?  The ones they worked diligently on after learning the day’s bible story?  Yep.  That was the craft Bear left sitting on the entryway table and sure enough, that was the craft Gracie carried behind a chair for gnawing.

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when canine hijinks cause property values to drop

I can admit it – I’m ridiculous when it comes to these dogs.  I mean, Gracie eats anything that’s not nailed down and Phoebe can be as jealous as a toddler.  In the end, though, it doesn’t matter what havoc these guys wreck.  I’m like a cult member who’s drunk the Kool Aid.  Dogs Rule.

And yet, when I look around this house and see the damage they’ve done…well, there are days it’s a miracle I haven’t thrown them out the front door and said good riddance.

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