Miracle x2

Two miracles happened today:

1) It snowed.

2) I blogged.

I'm just so happy that Utah finally decided to host a little bit of winter that I simply canNOT hold back. I just have to record it.

It finally snowed. It's only March, you know. Sorry, Utah, but winter actually started waaay back in December. 

Yep, I'm sorry you've been so confused. . . but glad you've chosen to come out of your season-confused funk.

These are my rain boots, not my snow boots. My snow boots were waaay on the other side of the house, in my closet--at least a 5 second walk. Much too far so I grabbed what was close.

(Yes, those are my jammies tucked into my snow boots.  Come on, it was only noon.)

And yes, we still have a dog.  She runs super-fast in non-stop circles around the back yard, even in the snow. When she acts like this we say, "Uh-oh,  Molly has the zoomies again."  She is Psycho Dog.
(See how her hind legs are in a rabbit-like pose? It makes for an uber high-speed bolt.) 

Psycho Dog eats snow.  Preferably only white snow*. . . but there are no guarantees.

(My boys have informed me they don't like this picture of Molly.  Because it shows her lip.  And apparently her lip looks weird.)


*As opposed to the ever-disgusting yellow snow. Ick.

#569

Oh. My. Gosh. WHAT am I supposed to do with this DOG?!?

Why I didn't want a dog: Reason #568

Because they bite.   

They bite ears.  

They bite the ears of little 6-year-old boys.  And they bite them so hard that it requires a trip to the emergency room and 10 stitches to put the ear back together again.

 

Mom telling him that he has to have stitches.

Okay, ya, that's owie.

Ah, Phineas and Ferb to distract him....why didn't we think of that sooner?!

Now that's a little more calm.  Thank heavens for anesthetic, The Disney Channel, and a really great doctor.

How many nurses out there would go out to the vending machine and buy her patient not only one package of Reese's PB cups, but TWO?!  Well, I know of at least one nurse who did.


The finished product.  And surely a scar to last the rest of his life.  Dangit.





I didn't want a dog.

I really didn't.

Oh, and I almost forgot.  It was Raegan and Haylie's birthday the same day.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my twins - born 4 years apart. :)
(At least their braces are kind of twin-ish.)
Raegan - 20, Haylie -16

Sorry, girls, that your special day had to take a back-seat to the dog/ear trauma.  Sheesh.

She's here.

Meet Miss Molly...

No lack of love around the house for this pooch.

 (Except maybe from me, but I'm working on it.)

The polls are closed...

...all votes have been tallied, and the results are in.

Let's see, what do we have here?

Scout - 8 votes

Molly - 8 votes

Okay, well, the numbers have spoken and the name has been decided.  Our puppy shall be known as...*drumroll*

Scolly.

(Or....Mout?  Hmmm, perhaps another poll in is order....)

Name

I never imagined naming a dog would be as hard as naming a child.  Man oh man oh man.  However, after much family deliberation (discussing, arguing, fighting - whatever you want to call it) we have it narrowed down to two names.   The problem is half of us want one and half want the other.  

I want to know what YOU think, so please take three seconds and cast your vote (on the right) for your favorite. The two choices are:

1) Scout (from one of the greatest literature reads of all time - To Kill a Mockingbird).

2) Molly (as in the unsinkable Molly Brown OR Molly from the American Girl Dolls, with which my girls used to be completely obsessed).

Here's a photo of our Goldendoodle girl (part Golden Retriever, part poodle):

Sorry, it's tiny and the only photo we have....taken by the breeder.  We have yet to meet this 2 1/2 pound fuzzy wad.  

So....does she look like a Molly or a Scout?  (If you hate both names, please vote for the one you hate the least.)

(Notice I said nothing (too) negative about the dog in this post.  I am working on changing my attitude about this irreversible situation.  And I'm doing better!  After I got in bed last night, I didn't cry!  At all!  Which is the first time since we made the decision to get a dog that I didn't climb into bed and break into uncontrollable and turbulent sobs.  Progress, people.  Progress.)

Dog

I can't believe I'm going to blog about this.  I have unrelentingly refused to write/talk/blog/think about this subject.   I have been under the impression that if I don't write/talk/blog/think about it then it will just go away.  AWAY!  Like a bad dream.  And, oh boy, I have had plenty of those lately.

But I can deny it no more.

It's really happening.

We're getting a dog.  

There, I said it.  We're getting a dog.  A DOG!   I, me, Maryanne, will be the owner of a furry, slobbery, eating and pooping machine. 

The truth hurts me.  Badly.

I never in my sane adult life thought that I would bend to such extreme pressure as has been put on me by family members who-shall-not-be-named (you know who you are).   My children have begged (begged!) me for 20 years for one of these furry hounds.  I was budge-less.  My foot was solidly super-glued on the ground.  I would never (never!) ever (ever!) own a dog.   

I don't like dogs.  They bark.  They poop.  They bite (I have personal experience with this).  They eat things they aren't supposed to eat.  They smell (like wet dogs).   They mat.  They go into heat (or go in search of heat, if you know what I mean).   They leave bits of fur all over the house.   They chase me when I go running in the mornings, and ferociously yip at my ankles.  They have to be bathed and groomed, and taken to the dog doctor. They jump on you and sniff you in places you don't want to be sniffed.  They have to be dog-sat when the owners go on vacation!  

Oh. My. Gosh.  Why would ANYONE in their right mind want a dog?!

So, ya, we're getting a dog.

(Repeating that 3 times within 5 minutes is part of my therapy.)

We pick her up in Idaho on March 18th.  The day that my-life-as-I-know-it will end.

For the past three nights, I've dreamed BAD dreams about this dog situation.   Haylie suggested I record these dreams so that, one day, when I am so in love with our dog and can't imagine life without her, I can reflect upon these silly and ridiculous dreams.  Ya, right.   

Here they are anyway....

Dream #1: 

I was in our back yard.  My family was there and a lot of other people (I don't know who they were because they didn't have faces).   This big, mean dog approached me from behind.  I tried to get away from it because I knew it was going to bite me.  As hard as I tried to escape it was all in vain.  The dog got a hold of  me and clamped its jaws around my leg with its dagger-like teeth barely touching my flesh.  And then it just sat there - waiting. Waiting while I stood there petrified, afraid to even breathe.   Everyone around me stopped what they were doing and stared at this dog with his jaw wrapped around my calf.  Waiting.  Waiting to see what it was going to do next.  Was it going to sink its teeth deep into my leg and cause severe pain?  Or was it going to compassionately remove its jaw and let me go.   It was tense and no one knew what the dog had planned.

In the end I don't know if the dog took a chunk out of my leg or not because suddenly I was in an elevator.  And it was turning upside-down as it went from floor to floor.  With me in it.

Dream #2:

I received a knock on my door and when I answered it there was a short hispanic woman standing there with three young girls.  She went on to tell me that that John was the father of these children.   (I apologize to my young nieces who I know read my blog - remember girls, this is only a dream!)  This news brought me complete and utter shock.  The next thing I knew this woman and John fell into a very deep hole in the front yard and, well, passed away due to their injuries.  

Suddenly, the hispanic woman's mother shows up.  She goes on to tell me that she will take and raise the two older girls but I will need to raise the 18-month-old girl AND THEIR DOG!  No!  Not the dog!!!  

As I was standing there contemplating the monumental tasks that were now in front of me, the dog ran away.   By the next morning he had not returned for which I was SO. VERY. HAPPY!  No dog - YEAAA!

Dream #3:

We had decided to adopt all 10 of the breeder's puppies - too difficult to chose one so we just took them all. There was a lot of snow outside and the lawn-care guy shows up to spray our lawn snow (??).  As he is spraying fertilizer on the snow all the puppies got out and got sprayed on.  They all immediately died.  But for some reason I knew that if I got them into a tub of water quickly they would be okay and not be dead.  So I rushed them into the house and threw them into the bathtub which was full of water.

They all drowned.

Help me.  Someone?  Help me....please.....help....help....