Dog Hair, Craziness and Other General Lunacy

You guys, I am all over the place today.

Honestly, I don’t even know where to begin. So, first, thank you all for helping me break the 600 view mark. I deeply appreciate it. Keep it coming! Check out my crazy “Lives” I do on Facebook if you have the time, I always post to my “A Mom With Musings” public page over there. Warning: they run long sometimes because I am disorganzied and can’t shut my mouth.

I took our Daisy girl for a walk as usual. (updated picture above) She is so cute and growing so fast. It’s really wonderful to see the bond my son is forming with her. It was a little rocky at first as he was very apprehensive, this is his first dog. Things are now moving along nicely and they even have little games that just the two of them play.

Anyway, back to what I was saying, on my walk, I realized that I probably sound like a complete lunatic. Like legit, a crazy person. Now, I personally, think those should be limited to one person per street and as I may or may not have mentioned previously, I believe that the crazy slot is taken. I have no intentions, that I know of, to overtake that throne. However; I find myself walking down the sidewalk, past all of my neighbors houses, with their windows open, because it’s a fabulous time of the year for it, speaking to the dog out loud as if she 1. can understand everything I am saying (assuming she can’t), and 2. as if she was another PERSON that I was walking with having a casual conversation about my life, day, husband, son etc… You guys. My nut may have finally cracked. Not sure yet. I caught myself talking to her in the house in the same way as I do my daily chores, like folding laundry or cooking dinner. PLEASE tell me someone out there does the same exact thing. Do you speak to your dog, or pet, as a person? As if they will actually at some point look up and respond to you?

I mean she does look up at me as I am talking to her, but I truthfully don’t think she has a clue as to what I am actually saying. I am speaking out loud as I type this, she is next to me and I can’t help but wonder if it’s possible that she is literally dying inside with laughter because dogs do actually understand every single word that comes from us. Could you imagine? I mean, you have no doubt seen by now, that dogs do understand some form of the english language and word association. They have those little speech buttons that these pups seem to be able communicate accurately with. I don’t know. Maybe I have lost my mind or maybe this dog is laughing her ass off at me as I write this. Either way, today I find myself questioning my actual sanity.

Moving along…Dog Hair. Now, Daisy is not a shedder, thankfully. I mean, twice a year, apparently due to seasonal changes with her double coat. That’s fine. That’s not what I am about to discuss with you. I took her to the Vet yesterday. Originally it was for vaccines, but it turned out, due to the fact that she ate a random mushroom, (long story- but on a FB live, it will save you $75, I think it was Wednesdays) the Vet felt it best to wait a week to make sure she doesn’t have any interactions with the vaccines that could be mistaken for gastro stuff from the mushroom. I agreed. Anyway, she then says, “while your here, Daisy could use a good ear cleaning and she does have some hair overgrowth that I would like to remove”. I’m like, cool, great…you warned me about this, we don’t want an infection, knock yourself out.

I was not personally prepared for what happened next. In fact, never having owned a “doodle” dog as they are called, never had this issue. I don’t think anything could have prepared me for this. The amount of hair she plucked, NOT TRIMMED, from Daisy’s ears could have made another mini goldendoodle. No joke. My head just kept going back and forth watching as she just plucked, plucked, plucked away!

I asked her at one point if I was a neglectful owner and she laughed and explained that this breed is just like that and they go from zero to sixty as far as the amount of hair. I mean this was A LOT of hair you guys. Daisy just sat there and let her do it. She is a relatively easy dog to handle, right from the start I made sure that she would allow us to touch every paw and every bit of her as well as make sure she has no food aggression. But this was like a spa treatment for her or something. Well, at least until the ear drops came, then she wasn’t so happy, lol. But the hair? I mean my God. I have never in my life, and I thought she meant to trim the hair. OH NO, she was using I believe hemostats, to just pluck the hair like you would if you were plucking your eyebrows. She was so casual about it. I mean she does own a doodle dog as well, and does this all day, but jeez…you would have thought my dog would have reacted. NOPE, nothing. Nothing but my audible gasps as I watched the hair pile up. And she was going deep. Like really in there. Never in my life, people. I don’t even know what else to say about that. She has ear drops as a precaution for one week. Lucky me.

So there you have the Hair and the General Lunacy, what about the craziness? I am so glad you asked…though you may not be. I don’t want to sound like I am whining about my life, I am not. (maybe a little) I am so incredibly grateful for everything I have, which materialistically is not much, but love and laughter and joy and family, I have an over-abundance of those treasures and I am truly a very lucky woman. And… even though my house is old and my kitchen is falling apart, I have a roof over my head, a warm safe bed to sleep in and food in my belly. Enough said.

So let me whine for a moment, lol. My husband, asked me to make him lunch today. Now, normally from the outside a person might think, well what’s the big deal. I will tell you.

1. The dog gets me up every single day between 6:15am and 6:30am and I promptly take her outside to do her thing. 2. By 6:45am every single day I am up moving and grooving doing things. Getting my sons lunch together, his school clothes out and of course giving the dog some snuggles and attention. 3. By 7am I wake my son and then proceed to make his breakfast and then harp on him until he finishes…as I mentioned he moves slow in the mornings and especially with his pup he has to get his love in before it’s time to get off to school. 4. I get him dressed, make sure he brushed his teeth, I do his hair, clean his glasses, pack his bookbag and get him ready to punt out the door.

My husband, wakes up around 6:45am after his alarm has gone off since 6am and he has hit snooze at least 3 times. He comes down, says hello to the pup, good morning to me and makes the coffee. All he has to do is get himself showered and ready to walk out of the door by 7:45am when the “get in the car alarm” goes off. This way he can drop my son at school and still make it to the office by 8:30am as my son has to be at school by 8am. Win Win. (on a side, due to a Covid side effect, for a month he had to take my son to school for me. I could barely walk on my right leg and it would take nearly all day before I was somewhat mobile. Then it would worsen again at night. We can talk about that in another blog.) Anyway, long story short, the bus pick-up is way too early for ALL of us, lol, so when that started my husband said he wanted to keep bringing him to school because he enjoyed having the 15 minutes alone with him each morning. I get it. I love it too. Which is why I do pick up. It’s during that time we can chat alone and have good conversation without any interruptions or distractions. My point? All he needs to do is get himself ready. That’s it. NO dog duties, NO kid duties, other than driving to school. And this man asks me to make his lunch. Of course I said no.

Now before you get your panties wadded up, think about it for a second. I work from home, I used to work in his office 3 days a week and 2 from home, but now it’s all old legacy stuff for his old practice and now my focus is on this blog. But legitimately, I work from home. I don’t just sit around and eat bon bons all day. I do the laundry, the cleaning, the shopping, cook dinner, clean up from dinner, make sure the child is bathed/showered and groomed appropriately, as well as the dog. I walk her everyday, (we don’t have a fence up yet, but honestly I would still walk her, I think she likes it) I pick up her poop, clean her dingleberries, bathe her, feed her, groom her, and put her to bed WITH my son every night. I am also the handyman around the house. I replace faucets, light bulbs, doorknobs, screens, unclog drains etc…if it needs mending I do it. Now some of this is part of being a wife and a mother and I fully accept those responsibilities. And proud to do them. Some are my contributions to the house, my husband is an amazing doctor, he is amazing at gardening, has a greener thumb than anyone I have ever known. (if you are in the market for fig trees I have about 400 at the moment, let me know I will put you in touch with him, not a joke.) He is also a Captain with a 100 ton license and has been for over 20 years. He is amazing at fixing marine engines and boats and many many other things. So please don’t think he is a bozo. He’s not…for the most part.

In doing all of these things for the house, for his old practice, for my dream, my blog here and breaking back into writing, my motherly duties etc…DO NOT PUT ANOTHER ITEM ON MY DAILY TO-DO LIST THAT YOU CAN DO YOUR DAMN SELF. That’s what I said to him. Exactly. I do enough to earn my keep around this house and then some. A grown man can make time to make a sandwhich for himself. I know, some of you are thinking that sounds so mean. Believe me it’s not. The other day he mentioned that the toilet seat was loose. I know that because we had our toilet replaced and the temporary one the guy put on was a cheap plastic one that I knew wouldn’t last long. Even he knows I am the go-to for fixing. My response was yes, I am aware, I will get to it over the weekend. He also can’t seem to clean up after himself…like EVER. In fact, my son and I are completely unpacked from our trip to Vermont this past weekend and my husbands suitcase, still full, is sitting on one of the dining room chairs. It’s Friday.

I am this mans WIFE. Not his MOTHER. He can make his own damn sandwich. By the way, before you judge, yesterday he asked me to bring him lunch, as if I have nothing better to do, and I actually did. (partly because I thought I was going to get a free coffee out of it, but even when that didn’t work out, I still went out of my way and brought lunch up to the office for him, and although he did thank me, he still complained that it was Wendy’s.) And on the rare occassion I will surprise him at the office with something. We have two young women who have worked for him for years. One just turned 30 and has 3 beautiful girls. She manages to get to work on time AND bring her own lunch. The other young woman, also manages to get to work on time AND bring her own lunch. Do you know why? Because they are grown-ups!

In the end, this morning while he was dropping off our son, I did in fact make him the sandwich. I made a very nice ham and cheese for him and left it by his computer so he could pack up and grab it on his way out. He thanked me and I said your welcome…ONE AND DONE.

There is your crazy. Maybe. I don’t think I am that crazy for refusing to make his lunch…I mean he IS a grown man. Maybe I am a little crazy, who knows, I mean I have been talking to my dog like she is a person.

Let me know what you think. My nut might have cracked. I don’t know. Either way, I’m not making another sandwich for him. And that’s that. My son is bonding with his pup, and my blog is moving along. Still…I may have to pipe down on the walks or that “slot” might just be given to me by my neighbors.

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