Puppy Power

The sound from the window was alarming: a high pitched scream alternating between a panicky yelp and a pitiful whine. Even from inside the house, I knew it was our puppy.

"What happened?" I asked Heidi as she carried the tiny dog in the door. "She looks fine."

"Decker the Great Dane stepped on her accidentally!" she told me with wide eyes.  "I'm afraid I broke our new puppy!"

But of course, she hadn't. Mother Nature equips most babies with amazing survival safeguards. "Basically, they're like rubber," said our vet.

Like Coffee or Cheese

Things I may have forgotten in the last 13 and half years:

Puppies sleep 20 hours a day.
     The other four are very busy,
      and not always during the day.

Squatting and peeing are not always the same...
except when they are.

Let her cry is waaay easier said than done.

Oh, and puppies smell really stinky, but in a good way.

A Dog to Walk

At last!

The Night Before

The crates are built; the food and toys and tiny collars have been purchased, and tomorrow is the day.

SIlver Lining

The weather was dreary this afternoon when I got home from the last class of my word study class, and it was tempting to sit around and get involved with the pulpy movies that were playing on TV. By 4 PM, though, after Mr. and Mrs. Smith but somewhere in the middle of Non-stop, when I wandered into the kitchen looking for another snack, I knew I needed to get out of the house.

But where to go? The steady drizzle discouraged any real outdoor activity, the scientists march suggested that it might be crowded downtown, and I didn't want to sit for hours in a movie theater. Only a plant could appreciate this weather, I thought glumly, and it was then that I knew where I must go-- off to the garden shop to fill the hanging baskets for the balcony and front porch!

And that is what we did. Tomorrow I will repot all the tender annuals and herbs and hang their baskets high, and after that? I, too, will appreciate the rain.

Not Unappreciative

We were out to dinner this evening when a server walked by with a tray of desserts. Tall and center among them was a giant root beer float. My mind immediately went back to my childhood, when on certain evenings my dad would get out the popcorn, Pepsi and vanilla ice cream and concoct up treats for all of us to Much and slurp as we watched TV.

Still, my nose involuntarily scrunched up when I spotted the passing float tonight, because, truth be told, while I was always eager to lick the butter from the bottom of the popcorn bowl, I had to choke the float down. There was too much sugar and foam, ruining both the soda and the ice cream. And yet, I was never able to turn one down. It was supposed to be such a special and delicious treat, and I just didn't want to spoil the fun.

It's Going On

I asked one of my homeroom students to come over and talk to me at my desk this morning, because I wanted to ask a favor. In the time it took him to cross the room, I had answered 3 questions, collected a permission slip, and okayed the removal of the computer cart to another teacher's room.

"Yes?" he asked politely, but in the moment before I could answer, I saw another student in my periphery reaching in to take a piece of candy without permission. I spun my chair ninety degrees and grabbed the magic chicken from beneath his grasp. An animated conversation ensued, and when I turned back to the original kid his eyes were wide.

"Wow!" he said. "No wonder your desk is so messy!"