I Love Daisies

"Hello darlin' nice to see you, it's been a long time. You're just as lovely as you used to be. How's your new love? Are you happy? Hope you're doing fine - just to know this means so much to me. What's that darlin'? How'm I doing? Guess I'm doing all right, except I can't sleep and I cry all night 'til dawn. What I'm trying to say is I love you and I miss you and I'm so sorry that I did you wrong." (George Jones)

Check it out here: http://youtu.be/ht7PmRXvbvs

What I'm trying to say is that I've missed you and I'm kinda sorry that I haven't written in so long. Life has been passing me by. It's like a whirlwind of activity all the time, it seems. Since I was raised by country-folk and spent the first 12 years of my life listening to music that was created between the years 1900-1979 as long as it was country/Elvis/Beatles, and the next 20+ years listening to everything else, I thought I might serenade you with my best old-school 'I miss you' song. I know other songs that I'm sure no one in the world listened to except my family and the original artist.

Things have been happening!

Before Easter/Spring Break, I assigned a piece of work to my grade 10 English class. We are reading the controversial novel, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (I LOVE HUCK!! If anyone is reading this who is in a position to do so, please direct a new version of Huck Finn... yes, controversial, but a good time for it. Don't be afraid. Don't whitewash the truth about history! Racism & slavery are STILL problems!). Anyway, the assignment was to choose a portion of the text to illustrate cartoon-style.

At one point in the novel, Huck's father, Pap tells Huck that he didn't want to see Huck putting on any frills (i.e., becoming educated and moving upward in the world), as Pap considered 'frills' to be demeaning to him (Pap). In a panel on one assignment, a student had drawn Pap and Huck in the bedroom with Pap yelling, and Huck with a thought balloon over his head. In the thought balloon, Huck was completely befuddled, thinking of himself in a frilly dress, with the word "Frills??" added just in case I missed noticing his word confusion. Getting that assignment before I left for break was such a treat - we had a great laugh about it. Students finding humour in Twain's book while they are being taught the satirical background is fantastic. And they're reminding me that even the smallest things can have a bit of humour, too. Class act.

During the break, I started taking Harlequin on longer walks. We walked along the boulevard, down along the river, and eventually through Birchwood Trails. Before branching out onto the trails, I took him for a walk on our street. Last fall, I walked him on this route all the time. We were once nearly attacked by an angry black and brown striped dog that looked kind of like the one shown here. It was brought up short by the heavy chain around its neck, which secured it firmly to the tree in the front yard where it lived. There was also a lady in the yard who promptly yelled at the dog, and the dog watched us for awhile, and then Tiger Dog settled down. Scary stuff.

This time around, though, the Angry Striped-like-a-Tiger Dog was not firmly secured to anything except its own four legs. And those four short legs moved FAST. When I got near the corner of the street, I noticed that the guy ahead of us crossed the street before getting to her house. ALERT ALERT. So I tried to look at the tree to see if the heavy chain was moving around, but there was nothing near the tree except the lady who yelled at the dog on the day he tried to run out to 'play' the other time.

Tiger Tiger Burning Bright saw me at the same time I saw him. It was like in a movie, in a super slo-mo scene. He walked out from behind the tree just as I looked in that direction, and for a split second we just looked at each other, and then Mr Harlequin Fluffy-Chew-Toy must have caught the Angry Dog's eye.

And that bad boy came barreling across his lawn as fast as those legs could carry him. He might have barked once, maybe not. It seemed kind of like I was underwater, but I just kind of crouched down, scooped up Harley, and stood back up. It actually happened pretty quickly. It's a good thing H was right next to me. I didn't break eye contact once with the Tiger, and I was beyond terrified.

I've always heard that you should not fight an animal to save your pet, or something to that effect. I remember thinking that exact thought, but my body didn't do that, and my brain didn't agree anyway. I actually remember thinking that. I think maybe crouching and then standing, and staring him down, maybe made the dog think I was on a savage rampage (?), I don't know. He did turn away and put his head down just a little when he couldn't get H, but he didn't leave until the lady yelled at him a couple of times.

And I just kept staring him down.

I couldn't say a word. There were no words, no coherent thought - not one word.

Much to Harley's credit, he is as dense as a bag of hammers, so he didn't realize anything was happening. He sat in my arms like a fluffy teddy bear as I pulled him up and away from the Tiger Dog who would like to toss him around like a chew toy. Ol' Stuffing-for-Brains didn't know that, though. All he cared about was being outside.

The dog went back to his yard, and I went back on my route, but I didn't let H down until we were well on our way. I didn't need any sneak attacks. I bet Tiger Tiger Burning Bright was wondering why he didn't get the white fluffy teddy bear toy since he was such a good boy.

After that, Harley Barley and I stuck to the river walk and then we started in on Birchwood Trails. Harley prances when there is mud on the ground, so he needs to get used to being in the dirt more. The trails are good for him.

We have met quite the characters on the Snye. One day, one guy introduced himself and asked if Harley would bite. "I can't say for sure," I told him, "Harley does what he wants." I didn't lie. To this, he said, "Well, I have a pitbull. He's a nice dog. I take good care of him. You take good care of your guy, too." And I said, "Yeah, Harley's been chased by a pitbull once or twice in his little life." *sigh*

Another guy, when passing by, said, "Hey girls, you're out walking Fluffy, eh?" Poor dog, it's hard to get any respect when you look like a furry marshmallow.

In that respect, Harley kind of looks rather girly, and his habit of putting his entire penis inside his own belly by accident does not help matters. Yes, he did it again. I took Cookie Monster away from him. He got mad. I put it on the bathroom sink, so he couldn't get it. He sat by the counter and stared at Cookie. I told him off and threw Cookie in the bathtub. Harley went over, stood up and peered into the tub until I turned the light off in the bathroom and he couldn't see anymore. Now, if I say 'Cookie Monster' his head whips around to see where Cookie is. He is obsessed.

In addition to trying to get rid of the monster, I also started 'de-hoarding' my house. Over break, I sold 6 boxes of books and donated 3 bags of clothes, and threw away 3 more that were absolutely useless. I then managed to get rid of about 4 bags of trash. And that's just scratching the surface. I've accumulated a lot of stuff. I'm going minimalist. I'm claustrophobic in my own life.

I haven't worked out since Monday of this week but I did go 3 times last week. Monday was one of the hardest times I have ever worked out. I thought I was going to pass out but I kept at it. Spin is now officially over for TriClub, but we are going to join Holly's class on Tuesday nights so we can keep doing it. We can't just stop going on our little trips that easily!!

Speaking of, Jenny and I still have to plan our trip to LA. We have been so busy with our upcoming production that we hardly have time to do anything else. It's work, extracurricular, TryClub, sleep, repeat. Throw in some food, and there you have our lives. With the exception of writing, coffee/tea, incessant b!tching (whether at us :P or to each other :D ), grading, and sometimes going out for supper or shows with friends, life is pretty hectic with our work/volunteer schedules.

I received some mail by FedEx yesterday. Before getting it, I wasn't sure exactly what it was because I couldn't remember buying anything. I half hoped someone sent me a pair of Louboutins for a surprise. That would have been fantastic. One can only hope. But this piece of mail did not contain shoes.

However, I did in fact order a present for Mother's Day, which will have to be written about after my mother gets it. While my mother is not a net junkie, she may receive news via friends who are in the know. Sorry, Mom-Friends, you are in the dark until she receives it.

And as for daisies, I just love 'em. Any day on this side of the daisies is a good one, I guess. No real reason to say it, just givin' you somethin' to talk about. As long as my name is on the tip of your tongue, my popularity is on the rise. ;)

"You don't get to 500 million friends without making a few enemies." (the social network)

Falling in Love

I fall in love pretty easily. Head over heels, just like that *snap fingers*...

I was online a couple of days ago, it may have been yesterday, I don't know - my heart was broken so the time has begun to mash together...

http://www.christianlouboutin.com/#/the_collection/springsummer2011

I'm a bit of a fetishist for accessories. You wouldn't say it to see me, because I don't wear them, but I'm like a rat or crow for those shiny, beautiful things... I love shoes and bags and stuff. I love the artistry and design of 'things.' And it's not just accessories - it could be a nice jacket, or skirt, or whatever. I just like things that are well put together. It's ART. I like to look at them. They're pretty.

So along comes the Louboutin website. Check out the red shoes - the 'Devalavi'. I want to wear them. I want to put them on my feet and look at them all day.

Check out the blue and white shoes - the 'Double Noeud'... how pretty would they be at a picnic? They are even beautiful in brown.

And last but not least, the other shoes, the '3 Fibbia'... my little lovelies. Seeing these makes my heart soar. I'm sure little kids get excited about unicorns the same way I get excited about these shoes.

So I went on eBay. If you know about Louboutins, they are pricey. As in, $1000-$2000/pair.

I bid on a pair of Louboutins... going for a much discounted price... I was the highest bidder.... I went to bed at 5am... and got an email in the morning saying the item was removed because it was suspected to be counterfeit. I suspect it was suspected counterfeit because the outbidded party was really upset about being outbid.

And my heart was a little bit broken.

But...

I love holidays. I can't wait until summer break. I don't even know what I will do with myself. I would like a front porch, lots of long days, some tea, a nice fenced front yard and a computer. Looks like I might be writing.

I'm on twitter: TeresinaBenoit. I haven't written anything yet, but I'm there. I have to think of something good to be my first post - can't throw it away.

This is the funniest blog I have read in awhile:

http://gillianhefer.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-fuckadoodle.html

Harley loves the daily walks but gets tired after an hour or so. He tries to get up, which is funny. He is like a kid.

And now I am off to the workout races to pedal my arse off just a little bit more.

Harlequin's "Bellybutton/Turtleneck"

Harley likes to dominate things because he is a bossy sort, and so got himself in trouble of the penile variety. And by that, I mean he hurt his penis.

This was two nights ago. I haven't been able to write about it because we were both traumatized. He was traumatized physically and I was traumatized psychologically.

When I first brought Harlequin home, he thought he was the boss-face of our living arrangements, so I had to put him in his place pretty quickly, and he didn't like that one bit. He used to fight me all the time, growling, biting, the whole nine yards, and he meant business, but so did I. He was very headstrong and stubborn, and if he was a big dog, it would have been much more difficult to train him. I'm glad he is only 7lbs - that was difficult enough.

When he was about 3lbs, I gave him a Cookie Monster teddy bear to play with so he could take out his aggression on Cookie. At the time, he wasn't even the size of Cookie's head but he dominated Cookie like there was no tomorrow, and there wasn't a thing Cookie could do about it. Cookie didn't fight back, and Harley made sure Cookie knew who was Boss of their living situation.

So the hierarchy was set in our household: I was alpha (although Harley continued to try to be alpha for a long time), Harley was next, and Cookie was always on the floor. Cookie was always walked on by Harley; he didn't walk by Cookie without somehow biting him or the like. And by 'the like' I mean Harley loved Cookie, A LOT. It was a bit embarrassing to leave Harley with a sitter because Harley would fall asleep in Cookie's arms, if you understand me here.

After I had Harley neutered, the behaviour ceased quite a bit. But, if I am out of the house for long periods of time, Harley thinks that the house is his territory, and when I return and reclaim the alpha spot, he needs to reestablish some sort of dominance for himself, and so off he goes to visit Cookie.

So this he did just a couple of nights ago.

And then couldn't walk immediately afterward, and started to cry.

I was sick with worry, as I thought he might have broken his knees when he was running and playing, but after I looked at him, I noticed a part of his anatomy was missing.

The missing piece of anatomy was the penile sheath. For those of you who do not understand what I am talking about, look it up on the internet. It's apparently a normal thing, although I have never seen that before.

My dog is a savage.

So I was worried sick, and called the vet emergency line. I explained that he was crying and couldn't walk, and what he had done to get that way. She asked me to describe what it looked like.

Well, at that point, the poor dog's penis looked like a cross between a bellybutton and a turtleneck. Isn't that terrible? All I could do was laugh, despite the seriousness of the situation. What is wrong with my dog?

She said if it didn't fix itself within an hour, I could bring him in and she could fix it, or I could try to fix it myself. Um, not likely. She could deal with savage Harley's bellybutton turtleneck.

She told me to feed him treats so he wouldn't lick himself and make the area inflamed. That was kind of funny because he looked like a female dog at that point - there was no real 'area' to inflame.

It took about another 30 minutes or so for him to calm down and things to return to normal. All in all, it was about an hour. His poor little area was bloodshot, but it is ok today.

If it happens again, the vet said we may have to look at surgical repair work so it doesn't continue on a regular basis. Is my dog some kind of sexual predator on himself?

And no, I didn't take pictures. The poor animal deserves some shred of dignity.

"Try-Athletes": Catching Up

1. I didn't go to Spin last night because I was lazy.

I am falling down on the job, here, folks.

2. I didn't go to Swim tonite because (a) I was lazy and (b) I have a lot of marking to do for report cards.

I also didn't get the marking done. I could say I did a bit, but I didn't. I procrastinated. I have a double Ph.D. in Sarcasm and Procrastination, which doesn't bode well for my personality or my future success rate.

So not only am I falling down on the job, I am also lazy. But at least I am not a liar (as I said, I could have lied, but I didn't).

All night, I watched movies (Big Stan and How to Marry a Millionaire), read stuff, and played games on facebook.

This is not good for my career, social life or eyeballs.

So then I checked out my blog, to see what I could write about:

1. 4 Week Food Challenge: I forgot about this. I don't know if Jenny did. To be totally honest, I ate better before I started into the Tri-Club business. My bloodwork shows that my innards are doing well, or were as of last month.

2. We didn't make it to Red Deer to see RENT.

3. We did see Hunchback and The Laramie Project: Ten Years Later.

4. We didn't make any other challenges for ourselves.

5. The show (Back to the 80s, Keyano Theatre, June 2, 3, 4 @ 7pm) is getting hectic now. We are building our set & rehearsing. We are Jacks & Jills of All Trades again.

6. My dog is a savage, pretty much.

7. Report card marks are due this week.

8. I think my next challenge will be to spell the word 'challenge' properly the first time, and not 'challenege' everytime.

9. My next challenge (dang it, did it again) will be to swim at least 1km every time I go to Swim.

10. Another challenge (GRRR) will be to pick up running more and more.

11. This running business will be AFTER I go back to Spin, of course. I have missed 2 classes in a row.

Sincerely yours,

Lazy Buns

Lazy Buns, Ph.D.

PooPaws Harlequin, the DirtDog

Harley pooped in my TNA bag and he doesn't seem to be one bit sorry about it. Yes, I'm a tattletale, but let me tell you how it started.

On Wednesday past, we had to go to a convention. And by 'we', I mean us teachers. And by 'us teachers', I mean specifically, us Try-Athletes. Jenny and I were driving down to Edmonton together. I intended to leave Harlequin with a sitter, but those plans fell through, leaving us to take him along for the 'joy'ride.

So off we went, like three musketeers.

First, he is a brat.

Second, he is spoiled rotten.

Third, I don't like traveling with him because he doesn't follow any rules. He just does whatever he wants, the spoiled rotten brat.

We stopped by the side of the road to let him pee. Well, he is not used to peeing outside because it is cold. So he wouldn't do it. He would just stand there in his little sweater and stick his paws in the air because they were cold. So we snuck him inside restrooms and he did it in there on peepads. See? Spoiled.

When we finally got to Edmonton, we got to our room and we were exhausted. We settled everything in, and went to visit some friends. By the time we got back to our room, we were overtired. And so was Harlequin. He was wired. We tried to sleep, but Harley was out of control. Lights Out = Sleep Time for most organisms, but for him, it means Rave Time.

At this point, he decides he wants to tap dance on our beds, and race around the room, and start lugging stuff around the place, namely toys and food. I tell him off a few times, and Jenny ignores him because paying him any attention at this point is just fueling the fire. Eventually I catch him and pin him to the bed. He lets his body go slack, because he knows I am the Boss of the situation.

Whatever! As soon as my body goes slack with anything resembling sleep, Harley is off to the races again. The dog is on crack.

I am so tired at this point, I want to strangle him. And if I could catch him, I might consider it.

In the morning, we get ready to go to convention. We leave Harley set up in his kennel with the TV on for company.

Everything is as his normal situation would be. However, Harlequin the Maniac is unhappy. He starts barking. And doesn't stop for over 25 minutes. We know this because we waited outside our hotel room door to see how long he would take to settle down.

The hotel people told us that fines would be determined by the manager, depending on complaints from other guests. And after that amount of time, it sounded like someone from the room below was banging on their ceiling/our floor. We decided to go in and talk to Harley-Barley.

I picked up Harley's kennel and peered inside. His ghostly white figure with the black eyes peered back out at me. I wanted to shake the living daylights out of him.

"Mama is very mad at you." I tell him this all the time when he is a bad boy but he doesn't care.

I take him out of his kennel / "his house" and put him on the bed. He is trying to get away from me so I put him on his side and talk to him like that. Jenny calls this my Body Slam & Secret Talk move.

"Mama is very mad at you because you are a bad boy and won't stop barking. You have to be a nice boy today!" Harley wouldn't care if I was talking about flying weiners and rolling baloney - all he knows is that Mama let him out of his house.

"We are going to have to take him with us. I don't even have a bag with me." I said to Jenny. "What are we going to take him in??" I looked around, and all I could find was my black and purple TNA bag.

"We are going to have to use that one," she agreed, "we can't take him into the convention in just a purse."

So we got him ready, and settled him into the bag. I noticed that his clothes were in the bottom of the bag - a couple of sweaters, etc., but I didn't think anything of it. They would come in handy in case he got cold.

So off we went to the convention, hiding the dog in a big ole bag. Harley was as happy as a clam. He laid down in the bag - as long as he got to go with Mama & Jenny, he would have hid in a hoodie or rolled up around my neck in a scarf. Harley is not particular about where he rests his bottom, as long as that bottom is somewhere in close proximity to me.

So we went to check out a session and chatted with people, took in the displays and chatted with more people, then we went and had coffee and chatted again, then we had lunch and chatted again, and again, and eventually headed off for another session *ALL THE WHILE, bringing Mr Dog to the bathroom intermittently*. That is an important note to make. He was not deprived of bathroom facilities.

We got to Hall D, exhausted from lack of sleep and lugging around all the paraphernalia associated with a dog and ourselves. Every year, I say I am not going to take anything but the bare necessities and this year I was doing great until the Dog Debacle. So we decided to take a seat near the back, in case I had to leave for the bathroom. Great thinking on our part.

It was a few minutes until the session started but we wanted to be early.

So we sat and got situated. We lamented the exhaustion. We drank our drinks. We took off our jackets. We got comfortable. I unzipped tha bag. We played a bit with Harlequin... Harley the Arse.

We started making plans about what we would do that night. We would take a nap after supper, then maybe go shopping.

Then Harley got antsy. He turned around a couple of times and I remember thinking, "Oh good, he will go to sleep now."

But Harley kept turning. And the turns kept getting faster and faster. Those kinds of turns mean only one thing: Poop.

"What is he doing?" Jenny asked.

"Harley is going to poop!" I said, horrified. I hoped that it would be a normal poop. As disgusting as it would be, normal poop would be the least of all evils. I thought, at the very least, if I could get him to the bathroom, I could scoop out the poop and salvage what was left of the situation.

I tried to get Harley to stop running in mad circles. I tapped his back, "Harley, stop it, stop it, stop it!" I yelled, trying to make him hold it until I could run out of there and get him to the bathroom. My dog does not listen, though, when it comes to his poop time. Harley got into the old familiar squat position, ready to let loose.

I had to zip the bag. Things could have become nastier than they already were.

You see, when we entered the room, there were two small groups of people already sitting down, chatting away gaily to each other. Now, if you know anything about anything, you will know that nothing attracts people more than babies and puppies. Harley is not a puppy but he looks like a cute, fluffy teddy bear. Never mind that he fights like a grizzly bear / piranha fish. If you get too close and wiggle your fingers, out comes the teeth. He has the pride of an eagle with the strength of a little baby wolverine. :)

So when we got there, and we unzipped the bag, little white Harley popped out his head and looked around, so glad to be free. And of course, the accompanying oohs and ahhs strengthened his pride and his wired up nature. He wanted to get out and roam around, and the people around us thought he was cute. They wanted to see more of him.

Well, they wouldn't want to see more of him soon. And they certainly wouldn't want to smell any more of him.

So, ZZZZIIIIIIIPPPPPPPP went the bag.

I could hear the sounds of poop flying everywhere inside the bag. This was not a normal poop. My heart sunk and I wanted to cry. Why must my dog be a Drama Dog?

I'm not having kids. I can only imagine what THEY will be like.

When the noises stopped and the bag started moving again, I unzipped the right hand side and looked in, as I thought it would be safe. Harley's little eyes looked out at me and I nearly died with the smell. My eyes watered. I wanted to kill him.

I looked back at Jenny, "Harley pooped." I confirmed.

"AWWWW! The aroma!" said a disgusted Jenny. She sat there, with her arms crossed, the look on her face no doubt mirroring my own... What do we do now?

ZZZIIIIIPPPP! I left an airhole for Harlequin the Sh!thead and said, "We're leaving!" as I got up and held the bag in front of me with two hands. I was absolutely terrified that brown liquid was going to start running out of the bottom of the bag. I had no idea what I would do if that happened. Absolutely no idea. Harley was running around inside the bag again.

I actually forgot my jacket on the chair and about ten steps away had to go back and get it. "Jenny, come on! Grab the drinks!" I yelled. She said there was no way she was arguing with me at that point because I was so desperate to get out of there.

The people around us must have thought I was out of my mind crazy. Now, I am as crazy as a loon, but I don't want people being witness to it. I remember looking around and desperately needing Jenny to be hurrying behind me, then when I saw her rushing behind me, gathering up the drinks and getting the rest of our things, I started laughing, and then she started laughing. And we were rushing out of Hall D, and we couldn't stop laughing. As we hurriedly walked by people, they must have thought we were absolutely disgusting because there was no way they could not smell that bag. we avoided people like the plague, except we were the plague.

We were almost peeing in our pants, laughing. Harley was definitely having the time of his life inside the TNA bag. I was holding that bag in front of me like there was a bomb inside of it. We were trying to get outside, and we had to walk around to the escalators, which in our haste, we could not find. By the time we got there, it was such a shock to find that the escalator was not working and we had to walk up a flight up stairs that we could no longer talk to each other. We were laughing so hard, we actually could not speak for fear that we would pull a Harley and do bathroom duty in our pants.

We made it upstairs and I was so mad with Harley. I could not believe that he did that. I know he didn't do it on purpose but I still can't believe it happened. We were trying to get outside and people kept getting in the way and we were terrified someone would find out what we had in the bag.

We got outside and we had to get a cab, and thankfully there was one right outside. We went to get in but this driver said he wasn't actually a cab. Apparently he was just some random guy with a car that looked like a cab - a driver of some sort. If he only knew how much money we were willing to pay for a 4 minute drive right then, he might have been willing to pretend to be a cab at that point in his life.

Harley the Brown & White Zebra was freezing and so were we. We eventually got a cab, and sitting in the back, Harley did his business again, which made us sick with the smell and desperate with quiet laughter. We were praying that the cab driver didn't notice. He seemingly didn't, or maybe he just thought we were the most digusting women he ever met. Harley tried to get out of the bag and when I would only let his nose and eyes out, he was not happy. He was so full of poop, there was no way I could let him out in public. He needed a bath.

We go to the hotel, and just about ran to the elevator. The laughing was near unbearable at this point, and we couldn't look at each other. I was absolutely terrified that the liquid poop was going to run out of the corner of the bag. I have to say, those bags can hold quite a bit of stuff. They are good bags.

The hotel personnel smiled to say hi but to me, they seemed to smile knowingly. I felt like the narrator in Poe'sThe Tell-Tale Heart, where I was trying to get away with something but would break down and tell on myself. I just had to get upstairs without anyone smelling that bag. I'm sure people do this with kids all the time but Harley is not a kid - he is a bear / piranha / zebra / eagle / dirtbag. :)

We got to the room, and Harlequin the DirtDog went straight into the tub. I unzipped that once beautiful black and purple TNA bag and out came a brown and white mini zebra that had big sad eyes and immediately tried to walk over to me for a snuggle. He also tried to escape the confines of the bathtub.

I was in no mood for snuggles, especially when I saw brown poopy paw prints all over the pink tub, and when I say poopy paw prints, I mean there was enough poop on those paws to make prints from one end of the tub to the other, repeatedly. It was like Harley was the interior decorator for Paws, Ink. with the brilliant new idea of using poop as a stamp pad.

I checked through the bag to see if Harley's vet papers were in there or if anything was salvageable. There were a bunch of cute clothes in there, including his fleece-lined leather jacket. All were finished.

Jenny said this was where the Clean Up Mission became like a surgery.

"There is no way to fix this. I would rather just buy a new one."

"You may as well just throw the whole thing away!" she exclaimed.

"Harley, you have made Mama so very, very mad at you. What kind of dog poops in their house? You are lucky you are not a dead dog." I started to speak to Harley at this point.

"Get rid of this." I handed the bag off to Jenny. She left the room and returned a few minutes later. In the meantime, I had started the water to give PooPaws a bath.

"Is the water too cold, Harley? Well do you know what, Harley? It'll get warm soon, Harley. Did you plan on taking a bath in Edmonton, Harley? Because I didn't plan on giving you one!" I was so mad with him.

"Shampoo." I said.

"Shampoo." Jenny replied, handing it to me.

"Conditioner."

"Conditioner."

I lathered and rinsed.

"Do you need me any more?" Jenny asked.

"No, I'm ok. Thanks. Go take a nap and we'll figure out what to do for later after this here Dirt Dog gets straightened away." I said, nearly emotionally defeated by Harlequin the Drowned Rat. "I need to have a nap, too!"

I held Harley under the running water to get all the soap and conditioner out and he was not pleased with me. I wrapped him in two fluffy towels and he snuggled in there deeply, shivering. I sat on the bed, doing emails while he snuggled and slept. I noticed that there was no poop happening now.

When he was nearly dry, he got up, stretched, and went for a little race around the room. I captured him and took him into the bathroom for a little dryer action so he wouldn't get too cold when we went out later. Then he was stuffed into a sweater that was the only one free from the sin he earlier commited. It was also a hand-me-down from my cousin's late dog.

See what happens when you sh!t all over your own stuff? You have to wear hand-me-downs from dead dogs.

I called my mom and told her what happened. She told me *I was a spoiled brat* for being mean to Harley. She said Harley's poop was a force of nature that he could not control and that if I could not treat him better than that, then I should board him on a plane and send him home to his Grandmother.

Well, then.

She also said that I better straighten out if I ever have kids because poop is not that big a deal. I said that my kids better not go around pooping in bags. She said I better not put my kids in bags in the first place.

Things could have been worse. I could have lost him. That would have been way, way worse.

I do love him. I hate his poop.

He is curled up at my feet right now. He is not so spoiled right now - he is naked because he now has a serious deficit in clothes.

A bag of poop. In a meeting. At convention.

Seriously.

If you ever get bored, come on a trip with me. You will be glad to have your normal life back.

* Jenny - thank you for putting up with me and Harley-Barley. He owes you flowers :)