What a difference a year makes and please, for the safety of humanity let me sleep.

Or, I could have titled this, what a difference a year and shelling out a boat load of money makes.

These photos popped up in my time-hop app this morning. Does anyone else check their time hop first thing in the day to see what happened last year, the year before, the year before? No? You have a life? Well, dag-nabit.

Lolo called me from VA yesterday to catch up. She’s getting through with her classes and will graduate with her Master’s degree around the holidays. Doesn’t it feel like we just moved her into her apartment about a minute ago? And she’ll be done soon. She said to us over the summer that if she had known how easy getting your Masters was, she would have done it earlier. Me? I had a hard time getting through algebra.

Anyhoo, what I really wanted to say was she mentioned that I’ve not been blogging as much. I.dont.have.anything.to.say. Fo’rizzle.

But, if I were to say something, can I complain? The dogs. Ughhhh. Callie has been high maintenance for the past few weeks. She wakes up one to two times a night wanting to go out. It’s weird. She has an incredible bladder, I’ve always been so envious of her longevity between potty breaks. But now, she acts like she’s ingested gallons of liquid and needs to potty. I’ve followed her outside just to see what she is up to…nothing seems urgent. She doesn’t hit the first spot of grass and pee. She wanders pretty far, pee’s and then just wanders around the yard like it’s the middle of a friggin sunny afternoon. Is this dementia?

Last night, I took the dogs out at 10:45 and we went to bed. She woke me up at 12:30, I turn off the alarm and let her out. Then again at 3:30 she started whining. I let her out…but I was not able to fall back asleep until around 5-5:15. Guess who woke up at 5:30 whining? It was now Max’s turn. *good lord!* I let him out, put him back in his crate, and tried to sleep. Coach’s alarm went off at 6:15, he went into the bathroom to prep for the gym and guess who now started whining and toe-tapping on the tile floor; Callie! I silently wanted to remove all her toenails. Sorry PETA. I declared when I woke up that there will be no more dogs. I know I said last week I was in need of boxer butts, but I need my beauty sleep damnit. Plus, I’m cranky as a mo’ fo’ when I don’t get adequate sleep and the world needs less cranky people.

See. I have nothing to say.

Happy Wednesday. I hope ya’ll are getting your sleep on!

XO

My house is the opposite of a fat camp and thinking about boxer butts.

We didn’t leave the confines of our property boundaries this weekend. Not once. Coach spent most of his weekend in his office with me walking in occasionally and asking “are you getting in overtime?” I’m not complaining, he knows his place. *giggle*

A few months ago Coach was explaining to some acquaintances of ours that I have a blog and then he went on to explain that my blog is ‘all about butterflies’. I’m calling BS; I’ll NOT be labeled! Which is ironic since I’m in love with my label maker. I’m not gonna mention butterflies today!

But probably tomorrow….


On our way back home from GA on Thursday we stopped at Lolo and Nathans and picked up Max Max our grand-dog; he’s again in our custody. Lolo had to head back to school in VA on Saturday as they are now having class IN class. She was a bit excited (not to leave Nathan of course) because when she left her apartment and school in March, she thought she would be in Florida for a few weeks. Hello, first big surprise of 2020. She hardly brought anything with her. And she left eggs in her fridge. Do you think she’ll have chickens? I know, that’s not how it works, that’s not how any of this works.

When Max was with us prior to her coming back from school, he was getting chunky. That’s what happens when you spend any amount of time with your grandparents. Right? Well, once they took him back home and he spent his day’s wrestling/fighting with the crazy Husky, well, he slimmed down quite a bit. I declared that sending him home was like sending him to FAT CAMP; he came back to us a lot thinner.

Size matters when it comes to lap dogs

I was kind of excited to have Max back as he is a cuddle bug and I like a cuddle bug. Callie, the 69LB cow dog? Well, she isn’t exactly a lap/cuddle dog. Speaking of dogs and rescuing boxers. What? Back in 2019 when we had to say goodbye to our Cocoa, we declared that Callie would be our last dog. Not because we don’t love dogs, but we were loving the thought of freedom for traveling. This year we had planned trips to Boston, Napa, & Spain/Portugal. None of those happened. And I have a feeling that the future doesn’t look so great for us traveling, which I’ve come to terms with. So, now I’m back on a dog kick. A boxer kick to be more precise. I’ve been perusing the boxer rescue site looking for my perfect, older, female boxer. (I like old ladies!) But I’m not against another rescue types. I’m not rescue racist or anything, but I do love boxer butts and I can not lie.

Ozzie and Cocoa, two of my favorite boxer butts circa 2013

So, I suppose the old phrase NEVER SAY NEVER is in fact, true.

Do you happen to remember back in February when Callie was having health issues? The Vet said she would have 2 weeks to 2 months. Ummmm….that dog is still kicking. She’s had some setbacks here and there, but she keeps making a comeback. “don’t call it a comeback!”

She’s got more than nine lives and I’m perfectly happy about that too.

Damn, for the world being a shit show, I’m pretty happy about a lot of things. I hope everyone is hanging in there and finding something to be joyful about, even if it’s a dog derriere.

XOXO