Riley is best friends with everyone.
But right now, this 12 pound weasel named Leo is his BFF. How cute are they? Do they look like brothers?
being rammed by a cone is almost over
We took Riley to the doctor yesterday. Instead of the full two weeks, he can have his stitches removed half a week earlier. That’s great news because the back of my legs are starting to bruise.
i wouldn’t call this spoiled
And the reason I wouldn’t call these dogs spoiled is that a few hours later, we actually had to cut Riley’s red sweater off of him. Seems the same sweater I got him 3.5 years ago doesn’t fit him anymore. It could be the fact that he has cleavage… but we try not to judge body sizes in our house.
It also gives me a reason to order a new hoodie for him… provided I can find it in his XL or possibly XXL size.
full of labor
Right now, I’m laying on the couch with Riley at my feet and Jaws, our 5 lb foster chihuahua, laying on top me. After the last two weekends which included The 3 Day and several days in Chicago with family, I’ve felt lucky to not fall asleep on the couch by 9pm.
Tomorrow, aside from taking Jaws to her new forever home, my plan is to find myself back on the couch watching the 4.5 hours of “Who’s the Boss?” that I’m recording right now. I’m not even embarassed about it because it’s the episodes where Tony and Angela finally get together.
i’m hiding the toothbrushes
My plan was to come back from the cabin today and write all about our wholesome fun and post some of the lovely pictures I took over the weekend of things like angel statues and adventures in beautiful Nisswa, MN. But that’s not happening because I can barely keep my eyes open. I was pretty sure I got some good sleep while I was there. At least it felt like it. Or that could have been the result of some poorly played hands of cards, too.
Instead, I came home, chilled for a while, put away the most of the things I took camping, and then The General and I decided to go have dinner. We came home about an hour and a half later and then left for the dog park right away. I just ran into the kitchen to get the dogs while The General waited in the car. And then we got back from the dog park and realized that while we were gone, Riley was very, very busy.
He’d opened the top of my cooler, which has a velcro portion of the lid that opens so you can slip things in and out without constantly opening up the coolest. It’s handy when we’re trying to prevent ice from melting. This time around, I’d just had it filled with dry snack goods I took to share with everyone. Turns out we didn’t eat a whole lot of it, which I guess is a good thing of you’re a five year old boxer who’s too smart for his own good.
Through this little hole, he’d pulled out a box of Swiss Cake Rolls, two containers of Pringles, and a container of powdered sugar donut holes. Shut up. I know none of it’s healthy, but you know what that kind of food is good for? HANGOVERS. The only thing that had been opened was the original Pringles can. And he ate all of those. Except for the crumbled pieces. Naturally.
He got pissed because he couldn’t figure out how to open the individual Swiss Cake Rolls, so there was one under the bed, one on the bed, one in the bathroom, and two in the entry way. And then he must have gotten pissed because he didn’t even bother with the other ones. He could get the plastic lid off of the still-sealed container of Pringles, but he couldn’t get the safety seal (or whatever the hell it’s called) off, so he didn’t get a chance to sample the Ranch kind.
And now he’s pissed that he’s not getting any dinner.
someone adopt this dog
Seriously, because if you don’t, I’m probably going to cave and do it. Yes, I know we’ve only had him for a week, but c’mon. LOOK AT THAT FACE.
But here’s why I won’t adopt him. Riley’s not a fan. At all. The General, Riley, Kentucky and I are all sitting in the bedroom, which is always the way across the duplex from our kitchen, which is where Vicente (the adorable puppy featured above) sleeps at night. The problem is Vicente thinks he needs to be around everyone else when he sleeps and is very vocal about telling us this.
Right now, he’s making the saddest sounds he can possibly think of making, including whimpering and something closely related to a Velociraptor on it’s death bed. Trust me, it’s sad. Riley, the spoiled rotten dog that he is, jumped off the bed, walked to the kitchen to see what was going on, walked back into the bedroom and tried to close our bedroom door with his face. Riley’s tired of Vicente’s antics and needs you to adopt him.
Vicente is maybe 3 months old and comes from Isla Mujeres, Mexico. He’s been in the U.S. all of about a week now. He weighs around 10 pounds right now and is the sweetest little guy ever. He gets so excited when you pick him up that he’s close to shaking right out of his skin. Vicente is a big fan of watching TV on the couch, but is also absolutely hilarious when he decides he wants to play. Riley (at 75 lbs) and Kentucky (at 85 lbs) aren’t really the ideal playmates for him.
If you’re looking to adopt a puppy (spring’s right around the corner!) or know someone who might be interested in this little guy, you can find out more information at Pet Project Rescue’s website. (I also stole the above picture from them.)
well enough to hawk a loogey
Is that even how you spell hawk a loogey?
I’ve received so many different messages today – voicemails, Facebook comments, emails – just to see how Riley was doing. I’m so glad that not everyone thinks I’m retardedly insane when it comes to my dog. He’s just my baby, ya know? And thank you to everyone for the super awesome thoughts.
Over the past week or so, aside from draining my bank account, I’ve been doing so much research online. I know the internet is 99% Worst Case Scenario, but since I know that’s not the case, so I can tolerate it. I’ve learned a lot about pet care that I probably wouldn’t have known before. The whole leaky penis situation (oh, that’s right. I said leaky penis.) makes sense now, since he’s so full of fluids. It makes sense that he races me to the bathroom the second he hears the toilet flush in hopes that we’re going to forget to put the lid down so he can have some nice cold and refreshing toilet water.
He has kidney issues for whatever reason – more than likely, it’s an infection. He’ll go back tomorrow for more blood work and possibly another day worth of IVs. But I honestly have this really good feeling that his blood test results are going to be exactly what they need do be.
If only that website would teach me some sort of trick to get the dumb ol’ dog to take his pill. Ramming it down his throat is what we’ve resorted to just to make sure he can’t spit it back out. Although, I think it may have caused him to spit a loogey across my bedroom. I’d never seen a dog spit a loogey, which I should probably look up… that could only be the sign of one thing, though, and that’s AWESOME.
flickr photo stream
