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If you do not know me (I mean, really know me) then there is something you need to understand before you read this blog: I value the truth above everything else... except a good laugh. A good laugh will almost always beat the truth as far as I’m concerned. Everything you read on this blog will be true, somewhat true, or something I made up in an effort to get a laugh. Sometimes I will go on a rant that I don’t really mean (or only kind of mean). Sometimes I will mean what I write only to completely change my mind a year, month, or day later. Such is life. By reading this blog you agree not to get offended by anything I write (or, at the very least, you agree not to tell me or anyone else that you are offended). It is worth noting that my employer does not endorse my blog (or even read it, to tell you the truth). The Wife also does not endorse my blog (though she will read it from time to time). I am not paid to write this... it’s just my way of giving back to the community. I have, and will, touch on a wide range of subjects and will give my opinion on these subjects. Again, most of what I say is for laughs but every now and then I will say what I really think and feel (see my views on Westboro Baptist Cult). How will you know when I’m serious and when I’m trying to get a laugh? You’ll know. And if you don’t know, well... maybe this isn’t the best thing for you to be reading. So, sit back, read and enjoy. Leave comments if you want and don’t be afraid to publicly follow me.



Monday, January 17, 2011

Memories of Lucy, Part I


We went to the SPCA the Tuesday after Labor Day in 2002. We couldn’t wait. The Wife and I had talked about getting a dog since before we were married. We would have gone ahead and gotten one right after our wedding (June 22) if it wasn’t for the fact that we were going to be out of town for our honeymoon and then also out of town for Labor Day. So the day after Labor Day we went looking for a doggy. We looked in Summerville and didn’t have any luck. The next place we went was the SPCA (at the time it was off of Leeds Ave). We were walking through looking to see if we could find a dog to fit the name we had already decided on (Lucy). Since we were living in an apartment at the time, we decided we wanted a small dog. So we looked and looked and then I saw her. She was just laying curled up in a cage and she looked so little and so cute. We took her into this little area so we could play with her. I threw a ball and she went and got it (it’s a good chance that was the last time she ever did that). We went back to the “common” area and were petting and talking to her. Just then, these two dogs get out and start charging towards us. Lucy got in front of me and kept the other dogs away (I’m pretty sure that was the last time she ever did something like that). We were sold… this was the dog we wanted. The Wife asked the people there if she would get much bigger (she was about 14 pounds at the time). Oh no, we were told… maybe just a pound or two more (fyi, her weight at the end was 63 pounds).

Anyway, we brought her home to our apartment and set her up in her crate. The Wife insisted she sleep in there. I said she could sleep in the bed with us, but The Wife insisted. The first night wasn’t bad (she was still on meds from being fixed). The next night wasn’t as good. She barked and whined and barked and so on and so forth… we were in an apartment, so I didn’t want this to go on, but The Wife said we had to be strong. The next morning we went out and there was Lucy… sleeping outside of her crate… with the door still closed and locked. Hmm, we thought… she must have pushed up and somehow slipped through the crack in the crate. No problem, we’ll just pile a ton of books on top of the crate and keep that from happening again. So that’s just what we did. That night was just like the one before but again, The Wife insisted we be strong. The next morning we wake up and walk out of our room and there was Lucy… sleeping outside of her crate… with the door still closed and locked… and the books still on top of the crate. Hmm, The Wife thought (my thoughts were more along the lines of “Holy CRAP! How did she do that? Does she have thumbs? Wait… Is she a Jedi?!”). The Wife still wanted to make Lucy sleep in the crate. However, that night I made it VERY clear to Lucy that I wanted her to sleep in bed with us… so if she happened to get out of her crate and pick the lock to our door and slip into our room in the middle of the night, please don’t slit my throat. Well, The Wife didn’t want to admit that this could happen… but she also wasn’t willing to bet her life on it. So that’s how Lucy was allowed to sleep with us. That doesn’t mean all was well, however.

One night Lucy got sick and threw-up all over the bed. So, we decided to “camp out” in the den of the apartment. Lucy woke me up in the middle of the night… I had started snoring and I guess it startled her, so she started licking me.

When I’d get home, she’d start running “laps” in our den. This involved her jumping and bouncing off the back of the sofa and then every 3rd lap or so she’d jump up and push off of my chest and do a spin/flip and keep going. On the final lap she’d jump into my arms and I’d catch her.

On Sunday mornings she’d sleep in The Wife’s lap while The Wife read the newspaper.

One time she got in trouble with The Wife, so when I got home I went to talk to her. I didn’t yell, I just said in a stern voice, “Lucy, did you do something bad?” Before I could say anything else, she rolled over a wet herself. She got out of any punishment she might have received.

One night as I was going to take her for a walk, a wild dog that was running around our apartment complex came charging at us. Lucy hid behind me. The dog jumped at me (at which point my foot met his chest, causing him to turn and run away). I looked at Lucy and she was looking at me like “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention… did something just happen?”.

We gave her a roast beef sandwich for her first birthday.

The winter after we moved into our house, Lucy had an “accident” in our bedroom in the middle of the night. The smell was so bad it woke us up from a dead sleep. I’m not making this up when I tell you we seriously thought we would have to burn the house down (or, at the very least, burn the room).

At one point, The Wife decided she wanted Lucy to sleep on her side of the bed. So she made me put Lucy’s bed over on her side. Lucy slept on the floor on my side.

Lucy would start on the floor, but at some point she would get in our bed. So one night we decided we would catch her. We turned off the lights and got real still and quiet. After a couple of minutes, Lucy got up and right as she was jumping into our bed I turned on the lights. It scared her so much that I think she managed to jump back onto the floor without her feet ever touching the bed.

She chewed up one PlayStation2 controller, one TV remote, and one cell phone.

She used to love playing with these little “baby doll” dog toy things that had a squeaker in them. She got so good at getting the squeaker out of the dolls that she was able to get it out with minimal tearing of the doll.

She LOVED Dach. He liked to sleep and she liked to sleep. He was little and she thought she was little.

That’s pretty much the stories I have of when Lucy was our only child. More stories to follow…


Know Your Medal of Honor Recipients:

Sergeant Horatio L. Birdsall (US Army) received his Medal of Honor for his actions on April 16, 1865 at Columbus, Georgia. His citation reads:

Capture of flag and bearer.

Captain William E. Birkhimer (US Marine Corps) received his Medal of Honor for his actions on May 13, 1899 at San Miguel de Mayumo, Luzon, Philippine Islands. His citation reads:

With 12 men charged and routed 300 of the enemy.

Quartermaster Second Class Charles Francis Bishop (US Navy) received his Medal of Honor for his actions on April 21, 1914 on board the USS Florida. His citation reads:

On board the U.S.S. Florida for extraordinary heroism in the line of his profession during the seizure of Vera Cruz, Mexico, 21 April 1914.

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