One Stop Boy Shop

After my pug Boo passed away, evenings on the couch were not the same.  Every night I’d sit there, waiting for my Boo to come and snuggle up with me and I’d begin to cry all over again.  My husband was not immune to my pain and with his encouragement,  I began the search for a new snuggle bunny.  No dog will ever replace Boo but maybe I could help ease my broken heart and the empty spot left behind by Boo’s passing.

My heart was set on another female dog and she had to be small.  Small enough that my dog tolerating husband would allow her on the couch to snuggle with me.  My husband insisted that she be young to lesson the chances that the kids would have to experience another loss too soon.

I’ve never had a dog that wasn’t a rescue dog.  They’re just what my bleeding heart needs.  I’m a softie and I feel that my desires are best served by rescuing a dog that needs me as much as I need them.  I set out to find my a new friend.

I went through all of the local rescue societies where I’ve adopted dogs, or donated time or items.  Nothing felt like my match (or perhaps they all did but they didn’t meet the criteria that I knew I had to have).   I ended up on a much bigger, nationwide site and kept finding myself putting the keyword “Pug” in.  I’ve never searched for a particular breed before, mutts have always met my need and filled my heart but with the loss of Boo, I really felt like a pug was what I needed.  I found 2 dogs that interested me greatly.  One was a pug mix, named “Nella” with many “pro’s” on her side.   She’s 1 year old, house broken and was found starving in an abandoned house.  Just what my bleeding heart would generally go for.  She didn’t look much like a pug and I was concerned that she might be bigger than my husband would tolerate snuggling on the couch.  I’m not sure why I couldn’t get past the part that she didn’t look much like a pug.  So I continued my search, knowing that I should pick Nella because she needed me.

The other that tug at my heartstrings was a pure bred pug puppy.  She was black and didn’t look like Boo and I didn’t want a Boo look-alike.  The pug puppy did not meet my long-standing criteria of needing me.  She wasn’t a rescue dog.  She was only 6 weeks old and would find a home quickly.  She was cute and adorable, playful, untrained… had lots of cons against her.  I tried really hard to get my mind and heart to settle on and adopt 1 year old Nella.  I just couldn’t do it.  Nor could I buy the puppy without first finding Nella a perfect, forever home.  I put thoughts of the puppy aside and searched for the perfect home for Nella.  I found her perfect match in a teacher at Ian’s school.  Nella now has a family to call her own.  They are thrilled with her and she’s as happy as could be.

With a clearer conscience, I contacted the pug breeder and said, “I want the puppy”.  I went to pick her up and met her parents who were both lovely, calm and lovable… ironically, her momma’s name is “Boo”.  Enter stage left, our little demon puppy.  We’ve named her Sookie.  She adorable, she’s snuggly (she loves to lay on my shoulder like a parrot would), she’s feisty, energetic and has razor sharp teeth.  She pees and poops on the floor if you don’t notice her sniffing ahead of time (actually she’s had very few accidents, she’s catching on quickly), she chews my shoes if I turn my back on her, she cuddles on my lap (if I wear her out first), she shreds kleenex, she leaves my hands red and bitten, she attacks poor Hercules and she’s perfect.

We’re now up at the cabin for Thanksgiving and I can tell you that she traveled like a champ!  A 10 hour car ride and she was none the worse for wear.  That wasn’t on my list of criteria, but she passed that unknown test like an ace!

Welcome home little Sookie, we love you and are happy that you’re a part of our family.  Now quit biting my toes!!!!

All in all, she has helped to ease a broken heart.

It’s so hard to believe that 5 years ago today I held my baby boy Ian in my arms for the first time. Random is my oldest and first son, but Ian was my first “baby”. My first pregnancy (well that went to full term anyway). I had all of the new fears that mothers have. I worried that he’d be ok. I worried about whether I’d be a good Mommy.  Would that maternal stuff just kick in? Would I hear him cry in the night? I worried about breast feeding and looked forward to all our “firsts” together.  I was so excited to meet him!

One of my biggest fears while pregnant was that my water would break in public. Guess what. On Nov 17, 2004, 3 weeks before my due date, I was in an office with Random who was then 7. We stood up to leave and WHOOSH. I ran down the hall to the bathroom, leaving my poor speechless son behind watching me flee. I grabbed a receptionist as I was running (ummm waddling as quickly as I could, trying not to leave a puddle behind) and begged her to go back to the receptionist office and grab my son and our belongings for me. We snuck out of a back door and drove straight to the hospital where my OB swore she had to verify that my water had broke. There was NO question! I was a mess! I was driving while sitting on a raincoat for goodness sake, but she had to check.

After flooding my doctors nice, sterile exam room, she confirmed that yes my water had broke. Gee Thanks! I didn’t know that! How could you tell?

I’ll spare you all of the boring details of the next 16 hours but suffice it to say, the time, the energy, the effort, the mess was all Worth It! He was born on the 18th via emergency c-section and he was beautiful and perfect and precious but 3 weeks early. He couldn’t maintain his body temp and was lethargic so off to NICU he went for the next 2 days. I bawled as they carried him away.

They had to have learned a lesson after having me in their hospital. They told me I could go and see him as soon as I was able to walk. Out of bed I leapt (or was it that I slid?) with I.V pole in one hand, and urine bag in the other walking down the hall asking directions to the NICU. YES, I was going to go and see him while I still had a catheter in. They turned me around and sent me back to my room but came very quickly to remove those hindrances when it was obvious there was no keeping me in bed.

I spent those 2 days by his side just staring at him and holding him when they’d let me.  He was so adorable!  It was love at first sight.

Now that baby boy is 5 years old!  So hard to believe, time is unkind in the way it flies once you become a mom.  You want them to stay little, you love to watch them grow.

Happy Birthday Little Man!  Mommy loves you SO MUCH!  You’ve given me joy each and every day of these past 5 years.  I look forward to watching you grow and become the fabulous man that I know you’ll be!

Or is it  Christmas Bazaar?  Regardless, if you’re in the Austin, Texas area, please come and see me!  I’ll be at Shoreline Christian Church on Burnet Road from 8-5 on Saturday.  Come out and see all of the adorable new inventory that I have for sale.  Some of it hasn’t even made it to my website yet and these outfits are just precious!  Want a peek?

I haven’t been blogging and I’m missing it horribly!  I’ve been working on a LOT of websites and getting my portfolio up and ready for a great possible business opportunity.  Plus I’m watching an extra kid every day plus a new PUPPY!  I promise that I have much to tell you and lots of stories to share and will get back to my blogging love soon.  I can’t wait to tell you about many things.

I’ve also been VERY distracted by this book series:

If you haven’t read them, I recommend it! They’re the books that the HBO show True Blood is based off of.

I’ve been in a funk since losing my Boo.  I’m so used to my days and evenings consisting of being snuggled by my sweet little dog. Hercules is a great dog but is just too big to snuggle with, but I have been trying.   He’s too big to get on the couch and lay in my lap so I’ve been scooting down to the floor when I watch t.v. and inviting him to come and lay beside me so I can pet him continually like I used to do with Boo.  He loves the attention but just doesn’t have the patience of a little cuddly dog.  He soon tires of being loved on and disappears to go and do his own thing.

The last cuddling straw so to speak was the other day when he misinterpreted my intentions.  In this particular instance, I got up before he did and wow was he happy to see me.  The dog tried to hump me!  Yes you read that right.  I swear this is a really good dog and is awesome with the kids but all of a sudden he thought I was his girlfriend or something… and he’s neutered!  I probably sound shocked and shouldn’t be.  Hercules has tried this on people (adults) who crawl across the floor… that scenario doesn’t happen that often so it was still a shocker!

So I continue to be sad and miss my Boo.  We discussed whether or not we should get another dog but decided we didn’t want to send the wrong signal to the kids that Boo could be replaced.  I think my husband is tired of seeing me cry every evening when I look around for my snuggle time and realize that Boo isn’t here anymore.  He encouraged me to go ahead and look for a new dog.  I realize that no other dog will “replace” Boo but I could really use a cuddly friend to love.

Last night I went and looked at THE most adorable little black pug puppies.  I fell in love but I just couldn’t get myself to commit.  I’d worry so much that with her being so tiny that she’d get hurt… plus I don’t usually do the “puppy” route.  I prefer to adopt rescue dogs.  Every dog I’ve had since I was 18 has been a rescue dog.  Everyone wants a cute little brand new puppy but the adult “rescue” dogs have a harder time finding a good home.  Also I could care less about pedigrees and would never breed a dog (I spay and neuter all my pets), mutts are great for me.  But I DO miss my lovely pug Boo.

I was searching online for the perfect dog and I may have found her. I’m going to go and meet her this week (she’s about an hour and a half away) and I can’t wait to see if she’s “the one”.  She about 1-2 years old, house-trained and full of love.  She’s also part pug!  She was found in an abandoned house and needs a forever home.  I can give her that!!!!  If she’s as sweet as they say I bet I won’t be able to say no.

Maybe she’ll be able to pull me out of my lonely funk.  It’s so funny to be surrounded in my home by so many people and to still feel lonely.  Boo left a big hole in my world.  For a little dog she had big shoes.  I know I can love a dog again and I know that Boo was one of a kind… I just need to find another one of a kind that wants someone to love them because even if she’s not “Boo”, I know I can love again.

With the passing of my beloved dog Boo, I’ve discovered some errors where I’ve really done my children an injustice.

In trying to explain her death to my children, I decided that honesty was the best policy.  When I didn’t know the answer, I’d say “I’m sorry Honey, I don’t know”.  But there were larger obstacles facing us.  I realized that because I’ve never chosen to make religion a big part of our lives, and have never attended church with my boys, they had no idea who “God” is or what “heaven” is.  I’ve not given my children a foundation.

I’m not a religious person but do consider myself “spiritual”.  I believe in something but even I don’t know what that “something” is.  Faith is such a personal thing and I’m such a logical person that I personally have always struggled with my own beliefs.  I’ve studied many different denominations/flavors and have never found something that I could wrap my heart completely around.  So in the teaching of my children I chose the “ignorance is bliss” attitude and never discussed these things with them.  That made us even more unprepared in trying to explain Boo leaving our lives forever.

My 4 year old took it especially hard.  He’s still struggling with the whole “Boo’s never coming back” idea.  “Where’s Boo?”  “She’s in heaven”.  “Where’s heaven and can I go there?”  Uh Oh.  And then he wants to know if he’s going to die.  Well yes, someday you will but not for a LONG, LONG time God Willing.  “Who’s God”?  Uh Oh.  “Mommy, I don’t want to die”.  “You don’t need to worry about that for a long time Honey”.

This error in my parenting takes a far back seat to anything else I do wrong.  I used to think that losing my patience when a day goes especially bad or serving corn dogs for lunch were my errors.  Those have nothing on this one.  I have not provided my children with any foundation.  They only have questions with no answers from a Mom who is uneducated herself.

I remember thinking my oldest needed an introduction into religion when he was around 4 (he’s 12 now).  We began in Sunday School and sat with our son listening to stories of how God “smited” those who worshiped another God.  Yikes!  Not exactly the “kind, loving and just” God we wanted to introduce our child to for the first time.  Then we attended the service in the actual church where the pastor (minister, preacher, I never know who’s title goes with which denomination) invited all of the children up to the alter for a story.  My then 4 year old was eager to join in.  This was a huge church that we’d tried, one with jumbo monitors up in the corners so those in the nosebleed sections can see.  We were sitting in the back of the church and the members who were seated next to us encouraged us to let our little one participate so we reluctantly agreed.  On the jumbo-tron, we watched Random running around the group of seated children.  We turned a bit red.  Then he disappeared, UH OH!  The Pastor called out to the audience “someone’s child just disappeared beneath the pulpit”.  Crap, that was MY kid!  We left in a hurry and never went back.  We also didn’t like that they wanted us to disclose our salaries to them and have a certain percentage direct deposited from our bank account to theirs just to become members.  Ummmm… I don’t want to pay for their castle of a church!  I’d be happy to meet with them in a courtyard of flowers and benches.

My lackadaisical approach to religion and my lack of faith (lack is the wrong word… my questioning of faith?) should not have interfered with providing my children with at least a foundation of belief.  They lack the basic knowledge to allow themselves comfort when something bad goes wrong.  And knowledge is power and faith is healing.  They need to know, they need to be introduced to ideas so that they can be comforted by what they believe.

What’s a mom to do?  I guess find a church.

Our dog Boo passed away last night.  It was quite unexpected.  She was only about 7 years old.  She was her normal loving self, cuddled up to my side one minute and when I left the room and came back, she was gone.

I remember the first time that I saw Boo.  It was a cold morning in Arkansas and we were visiting my husband’s family.  We’d arrived very late at night, just the night before.  I stepped out onto their front porch with morning coffee and noticed a dog “statue” on the edge of the driveway.  I thought to myself, “awwwww, how cute” and looked away.  As I turned to go back into the house, I gave a brief glance back and noticed the statue’s head was now turned towards me.  WHAT!?  I sat down on the front steps and called her over to me.  It was love at first sight.  She snorted, gleeked (flung droplets of spit) with that huge tongue and cuddled against me and we each gained a new friend.

It turns out she had been Robert’s Grandmother’s dog.  When Grannie passed away, Robert’s brother had taken her in but there was not really a bond there.  They were happy to let Boo come home to Texas with us.  Boo fit in immediately and became an integral part of our family.  My kids loved her and even our big dog Hercules seemed to not only tolerate her but develop a fondness for her.

Boo bonded with me immediately and became my little shadow.  If I went out of town, she never left her bed.  When I’d come home she’d race through the house as fast as her little pug legs could take her in her joy that her friend was home.  Whenever I sat or laid on the couch she was right there as close to me as she could get.  We called her my “growth” because she’d try so hard to attach herself to me by being as close as possible.

She was my protector of all things noisy.  She’d attack a lawn mower or vacuum cleaner in order to keep me safe.  She hated thunder storms and would bark with each thunder clap.  Ironically, the only time she could get her entire tongue in her mouth was when she barked… and just for a split second.

Watching her try to reach an itch on her back was several minutes of pure entertainment at a time.  She snuggled by my side on the couch every night and just wanted to be up close to her people.  Even with her tongue hanging out of her mouth, she was a true lady and a great family member.

Her tongue was another source of constant amusement to our household and all that visited here.  The first question everyone would ask was if she could get the whole tongue in her mouth…. the answer “No, it’s about 4 inches too long for her mouth, but she tries really hard”…..  and we usually backed that up with a warning of “Careful, she can lick you from there!”

Boo was definitely a Class Act.  She tolerated the poking, prodding and chasing of children like a saint.  I blogged about her once before, about how I never expected my job duties of being a stay at home mom to include being a dog bodyguard (it’s one of my favorite posts, so I hope you have time to read it).  But yes, I was her protector and she was my faithful friend.

In the end, she died with her tongue in her mouth–she finally managed to do it, after all.

Boo will be missed for a long time to come.  There is no replacing her.

Rest in Peace my “Boo Doo”, my faithful friend.

We’re all still here….. although a bit under the weather.  We decided to get the Swine Flu (and every other winter cold/flu) out of the way early this year.  Get a jump on the rush. And no, I refuse to cave into the CDC’s watered down name of H1N1, there’s no flow with that and they’re the bright geniuses who first pegged it with a memorable name like “Swine Flu” anyway!

My oldest son came home with it first but suffered the least from it.  That child rarely gets sick and him missing one day of school was a shocker.  But at the time we didn’t suspect swine flu because we thought he’d be feeling much worse than he was.  In hindsight, we should’ve taken a clue from the fact that half of his grade in school was out with it in previous weeks but we weren’t that smart.

Nathan is by far the worst and is going back to the doctor for a third time Monday morning.  He’s been on steroids and is just not getting better.  Our pediatrician DOES listen to the CDC so he didn’t qualify for Tamiflu.  He’s over 2 and has no history of respiratory problems.  Ian and I both qualified for the Tamiflu and are getting better. Ian only just qualified by his resent “Respiratory Distress“.  Poor Nathan is just miserable and has to suffer through it, this picture was from Thursday, his very worst day.  Although he’s had similar hours each day if not entire days.

He’s now developed a weird spot on his lower leg that we want the pediatrician to look at.  We called this morning and she thinks it’s just a hive but we’re worried parents and worried parents take their kids into the doctor as many times as they want to until they feel better!  If you have any idea what it is, we’re open to suggestions and maybe you can save us yet another co-pay!  He only has the one but its been there for 2 days and changes slightly each time we look at it.  He told me he wanted ice for it but then put the ice bag on his head, so I don’t know if it bothers him or not.  We can push on it and he doesn’t wince or cry and it doesn’t appear to be making him feel itchy.

Just wanted to let you all know that we’re still here, even if we’re not kicking high, we’re kicking.  (kids get timeout for that).  I’m on the mend but still worried about my littlest guy.

Some things just aren’t meant to be and some things just are…. We’re meant to be sickies right now and my blog is meant to take a back burner.  Here’s some proof that some things are meant to be to tide you over until I’m back to gabbing blogging.  A friend posted this on his Facebook and I searched for and found it on youtube.  I sure love youtube!

In my quest to show my Aussie friend Robyn some Texas sites, our next visit was to an underground cavern in Georgetown, Texas where we could pretend to be “Miners” with 2 of my “Minors”.

These approximately mile long caverns (they may be longer than that, in fact I bet they are but our tour was about a mile deep into the caves) were discovered in 1963 when a road crew was constructing the present day I35 freeway which runs right down the middle of Texas.  Robyn, Ian, Nathan and I set out to see some deep, dark caves.  We’d brought warm jackets since it was a cool and rainy day and assumed that the caves would be colder than the outdoors.  NOPE!  They are hot and humid!  But armed with helmet flashlights, the boys were eager and ready to go and explore these 10,000 year old caverns.

We began our tour on a train-like rail car that lowered us down into the caves.  We were greeted by teeny bats.  Ian thought it hilarious that his Mommy was not a fan!  I swear that the bats knew I didn’t like them as they darted around MY head all the time but left everyone else alone.  I ducked and swayed and tried to avoid those flying rats with all of my might.  Robyn and Ian were especially big fans of the bats.  Robyn thought they were cute because they were so tiny, only about the size of the palm of her hand.  “Cute?”, I have to disagree….  unless they turn into Edward from Twilight, or Eric from True Blood, I wasn’t so pleased with them!

Our tour guide told us all about the first man lowered into the cavern.  He was the smallest in the road crew and his name was Jack.  They lowered him down in the hole by having him tied to a drill bit.  Ian was quite engaging with the tour guide and she was extremely patient with him.  He did come up with some excellent questions though and all through the trip, he was concerned with “Where is Jack now?”  “Is he still in here?”  Were those (pointing at stalactites and stalagmites) formed by the ocean?  How old are they?  I can’t remember the exact answers, but Jack is deceased, yes the formations were formed by water, sometimes it was the ocean and they are from before the ice age.  They’d found fossils of mammoths, camels, saber tooth tigers, dinosaurs and other prehistoric animals inside the caves.

When “Jack” was lowered into these caves that first time, armed only with a weak flashlight strapped to his head, this is what he saw:  Poor guy thought he was seeing a bear and a huge one at that!  They now call this rock formation Winnie the Pooh, but with better light, it really looks more like a Samurai.

It was amazing as a mom to see how enthralled my boys were by the whole experience.  It’s definitely something that we’ll need to go to again.  Ian asked constantly for days after wards if we could go back to the caves.  Even Nathan, who is only 2 was enchanted.  Both boys were a joy and Robyn and I had a wonderful time.

We finished the day with a small (and tasty) little cafe in historic Georgetown, Texas.

Next story will be the telling of the Live Music Capital of the World, Austin, Texas.  Where Robyn, my sister Jill and I let our hair down and had a fun-filled evening bar hopping on historic 6th street!  An action packed evening filled with people trying to save our souls and policemen galore!