wholesome family outing

it's sunday of a three day weekend, it was clear the chargers were going to lose to the jets, and we were hungry. time for a walk.

we decided to take a family walk - minus the cat (he's outgrown his harness and besides...his occasional tendency to do alligator rolls in order to attempt escape from his harness would slow us down) - to get some lunch...somewhere where we could sit outside since we'd have the dogs with us. quizno's it was (even though i still haven't completely gotten over their horribly disgusting ad campaign of a few years ago - the one featuring that disfigured rodent with the rigor-mortise arm playing the guitar? god that had to have been the most UN appetizing commercial i have ever seen).

we bundled up (it was supposed to rain tonight) and headed out. here was our walk by the numbers:

17 - # of people lola tried to attack: including our neighbor (the one that i suspect has complained about our dogs barking, and towed the boyfriend's car, so maybe this one had it coming), a sweet little old lady minding her own business, 2 separate groups of kids (though they may have been asking for it too b/c they were pretty rambunctious, loud and, in general, annoying) and the poor woman (bless her) who was in charge of maintaining the order of the dining tables and chairs, sweeping up bits of trash, and ridding the area from the plethora of bird feathers (sidenote: please don't feed the birds - it is unspeakably disgusting when you are trying to enjoy your meal amid a cyclone of downy most likely mite-infested feathers, all the while in constant fear that the flock of birds that have congregated, b/c some idiots don't get the concept that feeding the birds does not mean they will become satiated and leave you alone, will shit on you or your food!)

60+ - # of times marley stopped to "pee": i think it's a control thing. (have i mentioned that he is eerily brilliant?) he has figured out that him stopping to either lift his leg or sprawl his limbs out as to lower his center of gravity as much as possible so that he can not merely be pulled along by his harness...all 4.9 lbs of him...will initiate the following chain of events: i have to abruptly stop so that i don't accidentally yank on his dainty little neck, then the boyfriend has to stop, which in turn clotheslines lola, sharply jerking her back since she was most likely en route to attack pedestrian #6.

2.6 - # of miles into our walk that it started to rain: perfect.

17 - # of times marley looked pleadingly up at me: well, 17 that i saw - his look was something between annoyance ("why am i being subjecting to this? don't you know that i spent all morning meticulously grooming my toe fir into a pristine grinch-ish style?!" said in the tone of a bratty teenage girl) and dignified desperation ("oh please pick me up, don't i seem far too sweet and little and pettigreed to be tramping through the rain?! i'm starting to look like a drowned rat!" said with an aristocratic british accent).

2 - # of baths that were necessary once we made it home: one for each dog - the white of lola's paws were a dingy brown from the god-knows-what mixed with the rainwater that had collected on the streets and marley's entire underside was muddy and wet since he is such a low-rider that his belly (and privates) touch the grass unless it's not freshly mowed.

but, as i sit on the couch, smelling the sweet scent of clean puppies and drinking the tea that the boyfriend just made me, it was well worth it - the perfect way to spend day 2 of my 3 day weekend.

introducing the fam

so i should say that it is not just me living with this small zoo - i have a very sweet boyfriend who, not knowing at first what he signed up for, has become quite the caretaker. he helps feed the animals, even entertaining marley's persnickety eating habits (more on that later), and does most of the dirty work around here - and if you're thinking "there can't possibly be that much dirty work!" well you're wrong.

you see, marley (ferocious chihuahua) has a touch of bulimia - even though he is fed a super premium organic dog food that i am sure costs more than some human's food (it's made from human grade products, prepared according to human food standards, and says on the package that "it's good enough for you to eat") - leaving tiny fluorescent yellow bile puddles for us to stumble upon like a year round easter egg hunt.

lola (sweet but occasionally spacey boxer) picking up on some of the chihuahua dining rituals, occasionally binges to the point of purging, which means...more throw up - only bigger piles with actual food chunks in it. but all is forgiven after one look at her wrinkly, slightly monkey-ish face and her big brown eyes (which are probably exactly what whoever coined the phrase "puppy-dog eyes" was talking about).


the cat (his name is elton - as in john - but for some reason we always refer to him as simply "the cat") uses a litter box ever since we moved - he used to be a sleek outdoor kitty but i don't want him to get snatched up by one of the coyotes that supposedly lurks around our neighborhood, cruising over from the golf course across the street from our house. no longer cruising the neighborhood for tail, the cat has, since the move, just about doubled in weight. so maybe he's not the sleekest anymore, but he sure is the sweetest. anyways, his cat box needs to be cleaned a few times a week too.

so besides the fact that the boyfriend is beyond brilliant, witty, clever, challenging, handsome and funny, he is tremendously patient, has a much higher tolerance than i for the down and dirty work sometimes necessary in daily life and puts up with my OCD tendencies and the animal's occasional disgustingness.

god bless him.