Man, blogcation has been fruitful for the Food Lady. I’m getting all kinds of stuff done around here.
I dug up and prepped the front garden for flower planting:
My stepdad came over and put a real floor on the henhouse, and then raised it off the ground so the rats don’t sleep with my chickens anymore!
He also built me external-access nest boxes for the chickens and they seem to like them, since I am getting a lot more eggs these days. Today I got five!
I even squeezed in some bird watching.
It’s been so relaxing and productive that I was going to extend my blogcation, but then Woo made a face like this, and I felt selfish not sharing it with all my friends.
Blogcations are nice, but a gal’s got to go back to work sometime. So I eased back into it with a puppy photo shoot.
This is Kane, and he is my friend Mary’s new puppy.
Mmm … a tiny humpable … yummy.
He is !KEY-UTE! with a capital “gggaaaahhhh I’m dyin’ over here”
But, like all puppies and all AUSSIES everywhere, he is evil, and probably from hell too.
We resemble that remark!
He’s already emulating his big brother Ryder. Good luck, Mary! mwa ha ha ha ha!
I took these photos at the agility trial that everyone but me was at. *pout* I can’t trial right now, it hurts my shoulder (<– car accident) too much to play agility and my physiotherapists suggests, sensible fellow that he is, that doing things that hurt “is stupid.” Bah. This year I will be missing Regionals for the first time in I-don’t-know-how-many-years, and I’m grumpy about it. But I will be going to visit everyone for the closing ceremonies and cheer for the TDBCR dogs who WILL be on the podium again this year (I’m glaring at you, Fiona) and I’ll try and take some photos at least!
I’m bummed because Tweed and I had planned to be in 1st place this year too. I mean, that seems like a reasonable plan, right? ;-) Anyway, I suspect this would have been Tweed’s last Regionals, which is the biggest disappointment for me in all of this. In three days Tweed will be 11 years old. Can you believe it? ELEVEN!
I totally don’t look my age. I’m still stinkin’ hot.
But then again, who knows? Maybe he’ll kick some ass at Regionals next year, when he’s 12. After all, he’s going to live forever.
Unlike SOME Aussies I could mention.
You better run, Woo, she’s talking about you!
Shut up, you asshole, she’s talking about YOU!
Well in that case, I’m ignoring her.
The other week I did something I am not proud of … I spanked TWooie. Not in a lost-my-temper-wailed-on-my-dog kinda way, but more like a “I’ve had enough of your bad attitude and I’m going spank it out of you like a dad from a 1960’s television sitcom” kind of way. I realize by admitting this I am setting myself up for alllll kinds of shit from readers, but you know what? I did it, it’s done, and I like to talk about my successes and my failures on my blog. And here, I failed.
All my hard work of raising TWooie’s confidence and teaching him to love himself created a hairy little BASTARD of a monster of an Aussie dog. I am very proud of his many accomplishments and how far he has come. I *may* have sung his praises just a little too much. Because a few weeks ago, TWoo decided he was the King Shit Of Everything That Lives and started strutting around the house kicking ass and taking names. He started biting the cats, chasing them out of the room (and not in a predatory way, more like “f*ck you, get out of my room” way), guarding the bathroom and doing this “Bring it on, bitch” thing with Dexter.
I put him on lockdown right away, but it didn’t make an iota of difference. Once I even tied him to the doorknob on the porch and leave him outside, but all he did was chew through the leash and take himself on a walkabout to hunt rats. Clearly social isolation was not a deterrent for him. Then about a week ago I was having a face-cuddle with Dexter on the floor (you do this, admit it! You sit on the floor and put your forehead against your dog’s forehead and tell him how handsome he is. I’m not the only one who does this … am I?) and TWooie walked by and for no reason whatsoever, bit Dexter in the ass.
So I – literally – put TWooie over my knee and spanked his butt whilst telling him what a jerk he was. It wasn’t a hand-stinging kind of spanking, but it wasn’t gentle strokes with a feather while feeding him peeled grapes either. I feel bad about this because I don’t think smacking dogs really accomplishes anything at all, and I feel especially bad about this because I suspect TWooie’s previous owners spanked him fairly regularly. But by golly, Dexter had a hole in his ass, I hadn’t seen my own cats in like a week, and I had had enough. So I spanked him. And he’s been as good as gold ever since.
I suck at agility, but please don’t spank me!
We’ve been doing Regionals prep in class this whole last set, and focusing on gambling. I don’t even pretend to try with Piper. She’s an up close and personal kind of agility dog :)
Not me! I love to gamble!
He does too. There is nothing this dog can’t do in the ring. He is going to be phenomenal. I can’t wait until I am all healed up and can start competing again. I am dying to debut my little giraffe!
So there’s my blogcation in a nutshell. We had a lot of fun while we were away:
But it’s good to be back. I mean, if you even want me back … after the whole spanking-gate thing :(
Dude … try a breathmint! Gah.