RSS Feed

Category Archives: favorite kid

Wordless Wednesday: When he smelled like snickerdoodles

Christmas 2009 . . . when puppy Micron smelled like snickerdoodles and we learned to decorate the tree halfway up.

Here my favorite kid introduces Micron to his puppet doppelganger. The thing barks out three Holiday songs, which was pretty funny. For about five minutes.

bark Bark bark barkbarkbarkbark . . .  (we wish you a merry Christmas . . . ) Ok, that can stop now.

Wordless Wednesday: A big dog in a little spotted package

Well that’s just great.  The spotted dog’s treed the kid again.

Stand down, Jager honey.

When spots are scary

It was the first Halloween at our new house and I was completely jazzed about taking my favorite kid through the neighborhood to get a taste of the local culture. Which sounds kinda exotic, doesn’t it? Local culture, like the shops in Agora or something? Nah, still southwestern Ohio, we just moved from a small farming village to middle class suburbia.  And compared to where we were, yeah we moved up a notch on the food chain.

A Halloween from happier times
(and I can’t find a photo of the alien demon)

Anyway, I’ve got the evening all planned out. Crock pot chili’s been simmering all day and I leave just a few minutes early from work to pick the kid up to get him dressed in his evil space alien demon costume. The kid turned six years old that year and loved this Halloween stuff almost as much as his ever so slightly unbalanced mama.

Or that’s what I thought.

Let’s go, let’s go, kid!  Are ya ready?  Grab my hand, my adorable little alien demon, and let’s hit this fine town.

But the kid is just poking along.  C’mon! I say.  I shoulda dressed you like a cigarrette, cuz I’m just taking you out for a drag! Put a song in your step, kiddo, this is a big neighborhood now and we only have two hours.

We hit one house, then another. At the third, he’s ready to go home.  Holy cow, are ya serious?  I’ve got something akin to an endorphin rush happening; I wanna go the whole two Beggar Night hours allotted to us.

But there’s no persuading the alien demon. His heart just isn’t into it. Fine, I sigh,swallowing disappointment.  Let’s go home and split up your winnings, all three of them.  Back home and he’s sent upstairs to change out of his costume before dinner.  I’m ladling chili into soup bowls when I hear him call from the top of the stairs, Ma! Look!  This is bad!

Wha? Now I like my halloween creepy, but them’s some ominous words, son. I rush to see what he’s talking about.

And spots! All over his six year old self. He’s completely broken out in chicken pox, he is.

Now it’s late October and as my usual style, I’d negated my nomination for the Mother of the Year award somewhere back in the first quarter.  But this?  How bad of a momma am I? Ugh, don’t answer that. I already know.

Ah, those Halloween memories. After that misstep, things went up from there. The kid and I spent many a season carving scary pumpkins, watching Casper and masquerading through our neighborhood until he finally outgrew me. So now he’s off at college and the Husband and I are left to our own quiet thoughts. And three rather wary dogs.

So what to do without my favorite kid around on Halloween this year? Well, we could just stay home and watch scary movies or better yet, put the working cape on Yaxley and head out to the local pumpkin farm.

This is Yax’s first Halloween, so we can’t expect him to be a pumpkin expert right off. But we did encourage him to pick out something nice.

That’s a good choice, kiddo.  But let’s find something a little bigger than your head.

 And yep, that one is indeed is larger than your adorable dog noggin. Let’s keep looking shall we?  How ’bout we check out what’s in the punkin field?

 No, Yax, I will not toss you a big orange ball.

It’s our lucky day, cuz it’s a two-fer special at the pumpkin farm today.  We take these veggies home and I go all old school on them.  No templates or tracings.  Just free hand carving and some dark thoughts to create something that looks like it will take down the squirrel population around here.

Who is that handsome devil?

We’re asked by CCI, and rightfully so, to keep the impressionable young pups home on Beggar’s night.  Anyway, it’s a tradition to take Jager (please don’t make me a banana again) out to enjoy the trick or treaters in the neighborhood.

But a Harvest Party in the office is not a bit scary for my sensitive pups. The boys borrowed some costumes from Jager’s stash (take them all, Jager says) and we walked the office neighborhood scoping for treats.

Micron and Yaxley were especially pleased with the attention, their very favorite “treat”, which was topped off the new dog toys they scored from their friends in HR.

Actually, food lady, there’s not enuf biscuits in the world for this.
Check us for spots, willya?

Wordless Wednesday: Sir Knight of Black Sword

It doesn’t seem that long ago that my favorite kid was, well, a kid.  Here’s a memory from a past Halloween all suited up as a brave knight as he psychs up to save a fair maiden from the fearsome Kaiser dragon.

Divinity. It’s more than a fudge recipe.

CCI May 2010 Graduation
We attended the spring graduation ceremony for Canine Companions for Independence on Saturday. (My experiences at the Feb 2010 CCI graduation are here .)  Another wondrous day of making new memories and new friends. The stuff of life.

I’m not a devotee of luck or fate, but I do have a healthy appreciation of the divine touch when a big dose of awesomeness gets dropped in our laps. A little story to illustrate . . .
We made it to the graduation a bit early. By early, I mean as navigator I kinda overestimated the time to drive to Columbus, so we showed up an hour before things were to start. Could have easily chalked this one up to yet another goof-up on my part, but if we showed up later we would have missed out on meeting someone very special. 

A bit of backstory first. The last CCI puppy we raised, the lovely Inga, finished her six months of advanced training and so was involved in the team training sessions for this graduation class. In the end, however, she was not matched with anyone as a Service Dog, Skilled Companion or Facility Dog. This is not good news nor bad news. It’s just news, really. Inga will stay at the North Central Regional Center this summer, then rotate over to the next team training scheduled for August. A moment of reflection on my part to deal with the disappointment, then moving on to fantasies of handing over the leash in three months. It’s ok, I’m good with it now.

So, we show up in Columbus with an obscene amount of time to kill. Just walking around aimlessly at the conference center, while trying to not look like we’re doing exactly that. The very first person we encountered was a young mother with her son, David. As we introduced David to Micron and Micron’s ever-enthusiastic tongue, the mom told us about the service dog that David was matched with as a Skilled Companion. Of the eleven dogs in the selection process, the mom felt a connection with two dogs, who happened to be littermates. As the week progressed, she started to feel this connection get stronger with one dog. She thinks, please let this be the One for David. 
David graduated on Saturday with Irina as his new Skilled Companion Dog. The very same dog the mom sensed to be the partner for her son. A perfect, blessed match. And not a match made by dumb luck; this kind of life changing beauty is no accident of fate.
What I love about this story? Irina and Inga are littermates. Through Inga and Irina, we are refreshed with new hope. We are inspired by a young mother doing the best and beyond for her child. This was one of those in-your-face moments for a puppy raiser – to see first-hand just how these dogs impact lives. 
Did we raise a future service dog in Inga? I don’t know the answer to that yet, but I feel pretty good that we sure gave it a heck of try.
And speaking of the lovely Inga
Another puppy raiser asked if I would be stopping at the regional center to see Inga while we were in the area on Saturday. I don’t know, I say. Probably not. Why not, he wanted to know.
Why not, indeed. Why was I so hesistant to see the pup I raised; was it fear? Afraid she wouldn’t recognize me? Afraid I would find her miserable and unhappy? Maybe it would be upsetting for her to see me. Or too hard for me to see her and not take her back home? It’s been six months since I’ve patted her ornery head.
Oh for goodness sake, what the heck is the matter with me? I’m stronger than that. We’re not talking about delicate flowers here, this dog and me. Time to take a deep breath of reality, cowgirl up and drive up to the center.
And wow. Sometimes it’s good to be wrong. Inga is happy, healthy and totally in love with the staff at the center. We got in some puppy hugs and I ended up with a pound of yellow fur on my clothes for old times sake. 
Inga’s nose has gone completely dudley. The pic at the top of the post shows her mature features as she crams a goughnut into my camera lens.
This next shot shows her catching up with Derek on her latest acts of derring do.
And here’s Inga going all T Rex on a levitating goughnut.