Bake Off

While my family was visiting over Thanksgiving, my brother decided to start some trouble.  While playing some games after dinner, somehow we got into a conversation about my baking and then it turned to my sister and eventually someone said, "You and Amy should have a bake off."  To which I replied, jokingly, "I would kick Amy's ass in a bake off."

Never one to let something go, and always willing to instigate something that will bring him food, JR took my phone and immediately texted that comment to Amy.  The following is a transcript of the frezied texting exchange.  Allow me to set the scene:  It's 10:00 pm on Thanksgiving night.  I am at home, having enjoyed a great Thanksgiving dinner, playing games with my parents, husband, brother and his girlfriend.  Amy as at her in-laws, having enjoyed a great Thanksgiving dinner, playing games with her in-laws, husband, sister-in-law and her husband, and there are four children under 7 who may or may not be around or awake.

Amy: No way lady...

Me:  oh, it's on...like donkey kong.

Amy: Bring it...

Me: oh it's already brought

Amy: Is that the eggnog talking? 

Amy: Even Ceil can't help you there. (referring to Grandma's "curse" on Amy)

Amy: Name your medium.

Me: um, cookies...bitch :)

Amy: I knew that...can you do anything else? :-P

Me: fine banana bread it is sucka

Amy: Love you!

Amy: That's fine.  But cookies is good too. Really.  It will be tasty.  I bake banana bread, but I don't eat it.

Me: betty crocker is my homegirl


Me: scared much? sounds like you're backpedaling. :)

Amy: Yes I'm scared.  Can you do a cookie from scratch?  no mixes or refrigerated dough allowed. (seriously?  I'm actually offended by this comment.)

Me: oh no you didn't

Amy:  Or...let's go straight to cake.  Paula deen is my bitch

Me: did karen (Amy's mother-in-law) just tell you to tell me that paula deen was your bitch?

Amy: Love ya...mean it!!

Amy: No.  Walter (Amy's father-in-law) actually.  And Shelley (Amy's sister-in-law)

Me: check betty crocker's facebook wall. you'll find the cookie princess featured.  you still wanna rumble? ;)

Amy:  Yeah why not?  Seriously...how much fun & tasty will that be?

Me: i make sara lee look like a hot dog stand with health code violations


Amy: Margaritas much?  Nobody does it like amy!! (Is this not the most random comment in this entire exchange?  How could I not ask her about her alcohol intake?)

Me:  how jack [daniels] have you had tonight?

Amy: "How jack"? You mean how much? Just one so far.  You?

Me: two yuenglings while cooking :)

Amy: Nice!

And that about ended it for the night.  Thirty minutes of texting ending with confirmation that perhaps we should not engage in drunk texting if were not even drunk.  A few days later we were actually talking on the phone and I explained that it all started because JR had sent the first comment.  And then we both admitted to be egged on by the co-conspirators around us who are really just looking for a means of getting to sample a bunch of yummy baked goods. 

Amy: But really, we should do this. I've been thinking about it.  We could have three rounds.  Round one would be a cookie. Round two would be banana bread.  And round three would be a dessert of your choosing.

Me:  You've put a lot of thought into this.

Amy:  I watch too much Top Chef Desserts.

Time and place to be determined, but looks like next time we get together, some lucky judge is going into a diabetic coma.

Car Jacking

Last week, Dave took Rondo out for a walk.  On his way home, our neighbor, Michelle, was driving her small sedan down the street.  We hadn't spoken to her since Chiquita had been adopted or since we'd gotten Rondo, so she stopped to check in on us.  Being a dog lover herself and knowing that we had been fostering, she rolled down the window to get the scoop on Dave's new friend.

While Dave and Michelle were talking through the passenger window, Rondo hopped up and put his front paws on the door to get a better look at Michelle.  She gushed over him and she and Dave continued talking.  Rondo sat back down on the ground.

The next thing either Dave or Michelle knew, Rondo jumped up, when through the open passenger window and climbed in the back seat of Michelle's car.  Both were completely shocked and Dave was mortified and this bad behavior.  They looked back and Rondo, who loves car rides, was sitting patiently, looking like he was wondering where he was headed.

Dave: Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry. I can't believe he did that.

Michelle: Oh that's ok.  I can't believe he fit.

Dave: Well, he likes car rides.  I can't believe he jumped into the back seat!

Michelle: He probably smells the treats I just bought.  I was just at PetCo.

They look back, and sure enough, Rondo had his big head buried in a a bag, clearly searching for those treats.  ave opened the back door, convinced Rondo to come out before he stole any treats, and apologized again to Michelle.

The next day, I let Rondo outside and saw that Michelle was bringing in her dogs from their morning outing. 

Michelle: Hi!  Hi, Rondo!  He's such a pretty dog.

Me: Hi.  Thank you.  Yeah, sorry he car jacked you yesterday.

Michelle (laughing): Yeah, that's ok.

It's a good thing our neighbors like us.

Guest Room Redo

Dave and I have a guest room that over the past year became increasingly unusable.  Between pulling up the carpet due to a little water issue and using it as a catch-all for shipping boxes, wedding gifts and random stuff, it could barely be called a guest room.  While it still contained a fully made bed, there was so much stuff on the bed that it was really useless.  Although our friend Stacy did manage to move enough stuff so she could curl up in a corner and take a nap once.

Old "guest" room.  Love those lilac walls!

So before my family came to visit for Thanksgiving, we decided to not only organize the room, but to also give it some character.  It still had paint from the previous owners.  The terrible part about it is that the walls aren't actually dry walled--they have a flake board/particle board which makes it really difficult to paint.  Using a brush or roller would have used tons of paint.  So Dave had the bright idea to get a paint sprayer.  It's pretty cool and worked amazingly well. He picked it up on Craig's List for a reasonable price and if we ever move or redecorate again, we'll probably do very little painting by hand. In about an hour, after the room had been taped and prepped, all the paint was on the walls.  It dried pretty quickly too.  I have to thank Dave's mom, Madaline, for helping on this painting project. They had it all done one day while I was at work.

So much better!

We also picked up a carpet remnant for a good deal that fits the room rather well. There is a little cut out at the doorway in need of a throw rug, but overall it's complete.

And even better, after taking down the awful lace window treatments, Madaline offered to make us new ones.  So Dave and I hit up Joann Fabrics and found a pattern idea we liked and some fabric that works really well in the room. 

We're really happy with how everything turned out.  We still have a little organizing to do, but at least we can properly host guests now.  Although I'm pleading the 5th on what the guest room's closet looks like.

Some lingering wedding gifts and "stuff"

We can officially say that after 6 years in the house, all the rooms have been done.  I suspect that means we'll probably find a reason to move out of this house soon.

Meet Rondo

We were dogless for a little over a week, but now we have this new guy.  The timing was actually brilliant because Chiquita was adopted on a Sunday, then my family arrived for Thanksgiving on a Tuesday and stayed for a week.  Then we picked up Rondo on Wednesday.  So while we were without a pup for a while, we avoided having to put one through the stress of having a lot of people around in a new environment.

Rondo was found as a stray and taken in by Animal Control in Manchester-by-the-Sea, MA.  Our group was able to save him on his last day at Animal Control, so we're really happy that we could be involved in saving this guy.  He's a little over 2 years old and pretty mellow.  He's part Pit Bull, part Great Dane.  Apparently that means you get a dog who's lazy and has a big head and big paws.  He's very gentle and just wants to be near you.  We're pretty lucky to have such a laid back guy.  We had no idea how much work Chiquita had been until we spent our first evening on the couch with Rondo on the floor sleeping soundly the entire time.

He's pretty well-trained already. He knows basic commands and even knows to go to his bed when we tell him to go lay down, which is awesome.

The only issues we've noticed are his disgust with crate training and he's not that great on a leash.  He's a big guy (about 60 pounds) and our crate just isn't big enough.  After struggling and eventually tricking him into the crate a few times, we decided it would be better for everyone if we gave him a room.  So we dog-proofed our office and when it's time for bed or if we need to leave the house, we put his bed in there with a blanket and toys and viola!  A happy dog with room to stretch, but safe from any bad situations.  This also alleviated some mild separation anxiety which we think was directly tied to the crate.  I hate to think of what happened in his past involving a crate.

As far as the leash training, well, we're working on it.  Dave's been training him in the yard and got him on a few brief walks. There is some improvement, but he's so strong and it's hard to regain his attention when he's been distracted.  I can't walk him at all yet.  Last night I just took him out on the front yard to look at our Christmas lights and he wrapped the leash around my legs and almost knocked me over.  But we're getting there.  We decided against the gentle leader and opted for a harness instead, since it worked so well for us with Chiquita.  Hopefully after some consistency with Dave, he'll be walking properly. The good news is that he's so lazy that he doesn't need hour long walks like Chiquita did.  We can get away with just playing fetch in the back yard and he's completely worn out.

If you'd like to adopt Rondo or know someone who could give him a good home, visit All Dog Rescue for information.

Nothing Like a Warm Beer

If you couldn't tell from the Keisha vs. Grandma post, my Grandma is pretty hilarious and provides much amusement for those who know her.  She'll laugh at herself and has accepted that at age 87, she can do whatever she wants and get away with it.

So part of me wasn't surprised to find her drinking a warm beer one afternoon.  The other part of me thought she had lost it, since Grandma certainly can appreciate the tastiness of a cold beer.

While Dave and I were in Pittsburgh, we went with my parents to visit my grandparents at their apartment in their assisted living facility.  My dad provides beer for them like he's their dealer.  Except apparently the last time he was there, he hadn't put the entire case in the fridge.  He'd put about half in and then put the rest in the cupboard.

When we arrived, Grandma was happy to see us and excitedly exclaimed, "I'm drinking a warm beer."

At this point we all looked at her with question marks in our eyes.  Come again, now?

Grandma: I didn't feel good earlier, so I decided not to take my meds. Instead I decided to have a warm beer.

Hmm.  Either this was her way of saying the meds were making her feel bad, or she'd lost it.  Either way, we continued with our visit and eventually she convinced both my dad and Dave to have a beer with her.  They certainly couldn't let her drink alone.

After some banter about whether they could have cold beers or if they had to drink warm ones, they got their (cold) beers and then proceeded to drink them out of the can.  For which they were quickly harassed.

Grandma: Out of the can?  Yuck.

Dave: What's wrong with that?

Grandma: It doesn't taste as good.

Somewhere along the line a straw was mentioned, and Grandma thought that was a terrible idea as well.  Clearly the way to enjoy your beer is poured into a glass.  I wonder if the temperature matters.

A little while later, Grandma said, "Huh.  This warm beer is starting to taste pretty good."  Unable to contain himself, Dave said, "That's because you can't remember what a cold one tastes like!"  Which was pretty hilarious.  And because Grandma is funny, she agreed that he might have a point.

And then she questioned why she was drinking a warm beer.

For the record, Grandma hasn't completely lost it.  When I spoke to her on Thanksgiving, I asked her if she was having a warm beer.

Grandma: I'm never going to live that down, am I?

Me: Nope, sorry Grandma.  It'll haunt you for the rest of your days.

Grandma: Eh.  Whatever.

Chiquita Adopted!

So I took a  little hiatus for Thanksgiving.  I was very busy doing things and creating stories for you.  I promise I'll be better.

But the first story is a good one--Chiquita found her forever home!  We're so happy for her, and her new family.  From the first time we talked to her new owner, Steven, we knew she was going to a great home.  He was immediately smitten with her and kept asking us for more photos.  He asked all the right questions and made us feel very comfortable putting her in his care. We were really excited about him as a potential adopter. His application was great.  Steven is a police officer, has a regular work schedule so he gets home early and can walk her each day.  And he's just such a nice guy.

He had come to the house to meet her, and brought Jodie, his girlfriend, who despite not living with him will absolutely be Chiquita's new mom.  They stayed a hour with her and were positively in love.

Knowing this was a great match, we asked another volunteer, Cat, who lived near his home to do the home visit.  When she got there, they had bought the exact dog bed we had for her, made her treats and cookies, bought her toys.  Clearly, they were prepared.  Cat called us from their home and when she told Steven he would get her that day, he picked her up and gave her a big bear hug.

We drove Chiquita to her knew home, and although it was a little sad to know we wouldn't have her anymore, it was exciting to know that we were giving her to a great guy who would give her an amazing life.  We stayed about an hour with Steven, Jodie, and Chiquita, making sure everyone felt comfortable.  She immediately took to one of the toys they bought her--a pink fluffy stuffed puppy.  She dragged it around the house and tossed it in the air, trying to catch it.  But mostly, she spent her time licking Steven and Jodie.  A lot.  She's a licker and boy did she let them have it.  It was to the point that she was jumping on them, completely in their laps, licking their faces.  Eventually Steven commented that he would work on training the next day, she could lick away as much as she wanted, he was so happy to have her.

When we left, it was a little sad and Chiquita did try to follow us.  I told Jodie to get a cookie and she would completely ignore us.  (True story--we are not as valuable as the ones with the cookies.) but mostly we were thrilled to have saved and adopted out our first foster dog.

Later in the week, Steven checked in with us and told her she was doing wonderfully.  They did rename her--her new name is Fiona and I think it's perfect.  She's settled in quite nicely and they even made her a special Thanksgiving dinner of turkey, rice and vegetables, which she loved, of course.  they've had a lot of success on walks and everyone stops to say how beautiful she is.  Steven's aiming to get her trained so she can pass her Canine Good Citizen test and possible be a therapy dog.  I can't think of anything more fitting since having her in my life was such a wonderful experience.

We miss her a little bit, but are looking forward to our next foster dog, Rondo, who I'm sure will have his own personality and unique challenges.  Dave is picking him up today, so I guess I'll find out more when I get home.

Best Fantasy Match Up EVER

This past weekend, my brother and sister went head to head in fantasy football.  It's a rivalry by definition, but JR pulled out the big guns and it may have been the funniest thing I've even seen in fantasy football.

Backing up, you need to understand that I grew up in a family that played games, especially cards.  Years ago, my sister, Amy, was on a pretty good losing streak and one day my grandmother said to her, "Amy, you're a born loser." (We all think Grandma's pretty funny.  Except Amy.)  Years later, we're playing cards and Amy was doing really well.  Since Grandma wasn't at that family gathering, JR took a small picture of Grandma and put it next to Amy, as though to curse her.  And it works.  Amy went downhill from there, and didn't win the rest of the weekend.

So naturally, when JR called me on Thursday night asking for a picture of Grandma, I burst out laughing.  This is what he put up as his team logo:

But better still, is the logo Amy (AKA Keisha--which is a story for another time) has for her team:

 

For real, for real.  So this is what the match up looked like:

JR's slogan was, "Amy, you are a born loser."  And sure enough, he won by 20 points. I'm not sure which is funnier, the fact that Grandma took on Keisha (and won), or the fact that JR pulled out a decade old Grandma curse to win in fantasy football.

Better still, when I told Grandma JR used her curse on Amy, her response was, "Meh."

Chiquita the Destroyer

Remember when I said that Chiquita was really gentle and hardly chewed on her toys?  Well, it turns out she doesn't like nubby things and when she's bored, she'll pull them off of whatever they are on.

See, when we first got her, she had this rubber chew toy shaped like a bone and attached to a rope.  I can't find it online, but the ends had little nubby things on them, sort of like this:

photo courtesy of petco.com

After 2 days, she decided she didn't like the nubby things, so she took them off.

Essentially she tore the whole thing apart trying to get the little nubs off.

And then she never chewed anything again.  Even when we bought her new (none nubby) chew toys.  But this weekend, while visiting with friends of ours, she was laying on a fluffy flannel blanket that had textured threads (nubby things) in it.  But since she doesn't like them, she tried to take them off.  She was stopped early on, and once her regular blanket was on top, she forgot all about the nubs.

So imagine our surprise the other night when cuddled up on her blanket, licking her sweet baby, Purple Monkey, she suddenly began to chew off Purple Monkey's nubby nose.  And left ear.  As well as licking off both eyes (that one is confusing, yes.) 

She's always been so sweet, gentle and loving to Purple Monkey that all I could think of was that he did something wrong and was being punished!

Oh the humanity.  Purple Monkey, what did you do to deserve such treatment?

What we've learned is that when this pup is bored, she'll start to chew nubby things.  So we have two solutions--no toys with nubs and we need to keep her mind active.  I'm beginning to think this was all a ploy for her to get more treats out of us for command training.  On a positive note--I have my own LOLdog to end with.

I think I destroyed my baby.

Sunday Night Football

This weekend Dave and I visited my parents in Pittsburgh. While we were there, we went to a Sunday night football game at Heinz Field between my beloved Steelers and (one of) my favorite team to despise, the New England Patriots.

So disappointing.

Heading into the game, we were stoked and ready for a great match-up.  The crowd wasn't as into it as I'd hoped, but I figured they'd come around. Some of them probably weren't regulars since it was a night game, and maybe they just need a few good plays to get rowdy.

But alas, the Steelers had some terrible flaws.  I won't dwell on the lack of first downs or how the wide receivers couldn't hold onto the ball.  Or how Troy Polamalu read nearly every single play opposite and was never on the correct side of the field.  Or how the defense forgot to put coverage on any of New England's wide receivers.  We will discuss none of that.

Instead, we will discuss the six jagoff New England fans that had the seats in front of us.  Oh. My. God.  Completely obnoxious.  And they weren't even drinking. 

Now I've been to a lot of games (my dad has been to a lot more), and it's not uncommon for someone rooting for the opposing team to be sitting nearby.  And 98% of the time, it's a cordial environment where they recognize they are in the opponent's home, and while they can be excited for the team, they should be respectful.  Even Cleveland Browns fans understand that.

But these guys were so obnoxious, disrespectful, and just plain irritating.  Well, except for one.  He wasn't bad.  The guy in front of me, however, was President of the I'm a Jerk 20-Something Guy from New England club.  The type of Patriot fan who thinks Tom Brady is the second coming, and only likes football because New England is doing well.  Once the Patriots lose a few games, all sports energy will be focused on the Red Sox, Celtics or Bruins (in that order).  He reminded me of every guy I see in Harvard Square who will walk on the wrong side of the sidewalk, run into you, and they yell at you for being in the way.  Cocky, over-confident and needing to be taken down a peg.  (By the way, this was my opinion even before the scoring started, so trust me when I say these observations are not because I'm bitter at the loss.  I'll be the first one to tell you the Steelers played terrible football on Sunday night.)

So Captain Jagoff and his cronies are starting to tick me off. My reaction was to shut them up by rendering them inaudible.  So I cheered.  And yelled.  And screamed for my team.  Yes, I'm hoarse, but I don't care.  I was louder than them and at least I can say I cheered for my team regardless of how they played.  Dave told me later that apparently they were laughing at my cheers and even recorded them.  Frankly, I don't care, but it does illustrate my point--how much can you be focused on the game and cheer for your team when you're allowing yourself to be entertained by a chick in a pink coat and hat?

The worst was when my dad practically had to hold me back from completely ripping them a new one.  They committed the cardinal sin of standing up while play was going one and then not sitting down when asked (politely). 

Me:  Sit down, I want to see the play.

Captain Jagoff (still standing): It was a fair catch, it's ok.

Me: No it's not ok, sit down so I can watch the game.

Captain Jagoff: What? It's a football game, I can stand.

Me: No, I paid as much for my seats as you did for yours, so when I ask you to sit down, please do it.

Then another one of the charter members for jerkiness chimed in.  And then, before I stood up to give him a real piece of my mind, my dad stepped in.

Dad: Sit down, turn around and watch the game, or I'll have you thrown out.

Jagoff Junior: Why?  What I do?

Dad: Just turn around or I'll have you thrown out.

Captain Jagoff (Best line ever): Dude, he knows someone in security, chill out.

This was good, since I was one step away from going to get a security guard.  Although Dad's comeback line would have been, "Yeah, my son's the Head of Security."  A total lie, but these jerks would've bought it.

They continued to be jerks and Captain Jagoff tried to get a rise out of me when we left by calling after me, rubbing in the pain from the loss, but I didn't give them the satisfaction.  If only because it would have cost my parents' their season tickets when I punched him in the throat.  At least I had the dignity to not stoop to their level.

But does drive me crazy that even at Heinz Field, I couldn't shake the plague of the jerks riddled throughout New England.

Cookie Carnage

We are terrible foster puppy parents.

Not only did we teach our puppy the word cookie, but now she is thief and possibly needs to be enrolled in an overeaters program.

Last night Dave and I were going to a meeting for our foster group, All Dog Rescue.  The group usually has a potluck dinner before the meeting.  Since I knew we weren't going to be there for dinner, I figured I'd take some cookies for dessert.  I pulled a bag out of the freezer and left it on the kitchen table for Dave to bring with him when he picked me up on the way to the meeting.

Yesterday afternoon I get a call from Dave.

Dave: Um, we're not going to be able to have any cookies tonight.

Me (instinctively--is this what being a mom is like?): What did she do?

Dave: She got the bag of cookies off the kitchen table.

Me: Oh no!  How many did she eat?

Dave: All of them.

Me: WHAT?!  That's 3 dozen cookies!

And the conversation goes on.  We've been trying to get Chiquita used to the idea of being in the house alone for short periods of time, without being in her crate.  It's part of the training to help her be more adoptable and succeed for homes that may not want to crate her.  Apparently Dave had left for 10 minutes, but failed to notice the bag of cookies on the table.  And since she knows that's where she can find cookies, it didn't surprise me at all that she got them.

The good news is that they were oatmeal cookies with cranberries and apples, so the worst thing in them was the sugar.  And the fact that she ate 3 dozen of them.

I was concerned about her getting sick, so I call Dave again, and just to make sure she was ok.

Dave: She's fine.  She hasn't thrown up yet, so she probably won't, and I'll make sure she gets outside.  Right now she's just curled up in a ball, being all shameful.

Me: She should be shameful.

Dave: Well, actually no, she's curled up in a ball, being all fat and happy.

Me: So, she's in a food coma.

She ended up not getting sick, thank goodness.  Dave found the other bag of the same cookies in the freezer and we were still able to take them to our meeting.  And when we got there, we were pleased to hear that another foster dog had eaten a chocolate cake that had been intended for the meeting.  At least we're not the only ones with a food driven dog.

We brought the leftover cookies home.  Wouldn't you know, she tried to get them while we were standing right there?  As though 3 dozen wasn't enough.  They are safely out of her reach, but we'll be even more vigilant now that we know she won't quit when it comes to cookies.

I Didn't Mean To

This weekend I spent a lot of time (ok, practically the whole weekend) making cookies.  This of course piqued Chiquita's interested with the noises, my activity in the kitchen, and of course the smells.  She's experienced a cookie baking extravaganza before, but this weekend was pretty intense.

She's generally pretty good, listening when I tell her to get out of the kitchen or back away from the oven when I open it.  She doesn't lunge for anything, although she will sniff at the table when the freshly baked goodies go onto the cooling racks, and she does enjoy laying down near the warm oven.

Are these cookies for me?

A few weeks ago, I had made a couple of recipes and then left them on the cooling racks while Chiquita and I went for a walk.  We came back and she was quite worn out and had been well-treated. Dave was out of the house for the day, and in a moment of stupidity, I went into the bedroom to take off my shoes.  And then I remembered I'd left a highly food motivated dog in the kitchen with 8 dozen cookies on the table.

And it was quiet.

I called for her, and didn't hear a sound, not even her nails as she walked across the kitchen floor.  I ran into the kitchen only to find her bent over the floor, surrounded by crumbs.  And then looking up at me with a pathetic look on her face, head tilted and ears back, as if to say, "I'm just sitting here, not doing anything bad."  And then she vacuumed up the rest of the crumbs.

It actually took me a while to figure out where she got the cookie from, because she didn't disturb the cooling racks at all.  And since Dave and I are only training her with positive reinforcement, it was too late to discipline her.  So I called Dave and told him he had to come home because his dog stole a cookie and now he couldn't have any.

I presume it was only a matter of time, but apparently during this weekend's cookie explosion, I inadvertently did a bad thing.  I taught Chiquita the word "cookie."

Last night after dinner, I was cleaning up dishes.  Cookies were again on the cooling racks and Dave was in the living room.

Me (to Dave): Do you want a cookie?

Chiquita (according to Dave): Head raises up and ears are perked.

Dave: She's not talking to you.

Me: What's that?  Do you want a cookie?

Dave: Yes, please.

At the same time, Chiquita jumps up from her blanket and scurries into the kitchen.  The scurry was pretty hilarious because we have laminate flooring in the living room and she couldn't get any traction coming around the corner since she was moving so fast.  After all, she was coming for her cookie.

Dave was hysterics because he connected that she now had expanded her vocabulary to include the word cookie.  So we had to test it.  We each kept asking her if she wanted a cookie and she kept going back and forth to whoever said it (oh, stop--it wasn't torture.  We gave her one of her own cookies that I had made for her.)  It was one of the funniest things I've ever seen.

Except now I feel bad that I have to update her Petfinder.com listing to include she knows commands such as sit, stay, wait, leave it, and cookie.

Mama Chiquita

When we first met Chiquita, we learned she had been spayed by the shelter.  And while no one confirmed it, everyone (Lisa and Donna from All Dog Rescue, Pam from the shelter, us, even friends who have met her since) was pretty sure that despite her young age (about a year) she's already had puppies, based on the size of her nipples and some other physical traits.  

As we've gotten to know her we think more and more that this must be true.  Additionally we think she was separated from them way too early because one of her most interesting behaviors is her gentleness.  She doesn't play into the stereotypical behavior of a pit bull by being aggressive. In fact, we have a hard time getting her to play with some of her toys.  The first toy we had for her, given to us by All Dog Rescue, is a purple monkey.  We're pretty sure she thinks it's her puppy.  She keeps it in her crate and will occasionally bring it out to sleep on her blanket.  But even when she carries it, she's very gentle and carries it like a puppy, walking very slowly with it in her mouth and barely holding it in her teeth.  When she goes to bed at night, she snuggles next to her monkey and gives it a couple of licks before settling in.

Chiquita going to bed with her purple monkey and her pork chop

Other soft toys are the same way.  She stole my stuffed moose off the bed (long story short--she's not allowed in the bedroom but apparently the door wasn't shut all the way and she got in there, up on the bed and when she found him, she thought he was her puppy and took him).  Dave found her carrying him ever so gently, and when she was caught, she carefully laid him on the floor. 

In decorating for Halloween, I was hanging a little stuffed bat in the doorway.  When I accidentally dropped it, she immediately picked it up and took it to her blanket.

Why is the bat so high up? I can't reach him.

She will play with other things--she has a tennis ball for the yard and loves to find sticks (we're still working on the actual concept of fetch), so it's not like she doesn't play like a dog at all.  But the soft fluffy things are special.  Even when she meets other dogs, if given the choice to play with a dog her size or a little one, she'll go for the little one.

For our anniversary, my darling nephew Aidan and niece Abi picked us out a very fun gift.  Except Chiquita thinks it's for her.  We received two Kung Zhu Battle Hamsters (Drayko and Azer for those of you keeping score at home).  They are part hamster/part ninja, so clearly the perfect gift for me (and Dave).  They are pretty hilarious, but immediately Chiquita thought they were the best toy ever.  

For your enjoyment:

After several minutes of Dave and I torturing her by setting them up again and again, she'll eventually pick them up and move them to her blanket.  We like to think of it as her babysitting and she's having a hard time getting them both to bed.

She loves playing with these, despite her confusion as to why they keep moving after she's told them not to.  It definitely feeds into her maternal instinct.  And it's so much fun to watch.

Pumpkins

In preparation for the trick or treaters Sunday night, Dave and I did a little decorating.  We have a few lights, some small decorations and of course, we carved pumpkins.

We take our pumpkin carving pretty seriously.  Dave is really good at it and I've definitely gotten better.  Last year we bought two sets of tools so that we don't have to fight over them.  And we probably spent more time that necessary trying to decide what to carve on our pumpkins.  But the end result was pretty good.

My Pumpkin

Dave's Pumpkin

Not bad, huh?  We got some comments from the kids that came by.  Unfortunately it was really cold and windy on Sunday night, so we only had about half of the number of trick or treaters we usually get.  We started giving out by candy by the handful (to costumed kids only), but we still have a bunch left over.

We were a little disappointed in the kids' costumes this year.  While some of the kids had costumes we couldn't see completely because they were covered in coats or sweatshirts, others just seems to be wearing sweatshirts. Some at least put on a mask. Quite disheartening to see a lot of people not even bother to try; just knocking on doors for candy.  But there were a few good ones--two brothers as a ninja and Optimus Prime.  Another girl was a nun.  A few princesses and one girl had a great Sheriff get-up.  And all of them got a little extra candy from us.

Halloween Redux

Saturday was our Halloween fun night.  We had a blast.  Our friends Stacy, Rachel and John all came over for dinner.  Stacy had to leave early since she had to get to work at a bar near our house (like down the street near our house), so we promised to come by and see her with our costumes on before we went to the party.

After at least thirty minutes in the bathroom applying my make up with the help of makeupgeek.com (Thank you!), I got my costume on and emerged victorious, despite only having fake eyelashes on one eye because the other kept falling off.

Dave was Mr. Freeze.

Rachel was super excited to be a Sheriff, what with pink guns with ponies on them that made noise.  And John was a great Bill Lumbergh (you know, the boss in Office Space--come on, he looks great!)

Once properly dressed (well, maybe not so proper--it was cold outside and, well, I was dressed up as Catwoman), we headed to the bar to meet Stacy.  We had a few drinks and got to see her in her costume as a cancan dancer, which she hadn't finished putting on before leaving our house.

Everyone looked great, and then our friends Cindy and Keith called to say they would meet us at Stacy's bar, instead of another one we'd planned on.  Cindy is our costumer and made costumes for Dave, Keith, Stacy, our friend Erin, me and herself, among others.

Cindy absolutely outdid herself.  Not just with making so many costumes (she is to costumes as I am to cookies), but her own costume might just be the most amazing thing I've ever seen her make.  It was amazingand I love it.  The absolute best Queen of Hearts.  Initially we were all supposed to be Batman villains (hence Dave and I), but Keith really wanted to be the Mad Hatter, and I'm so glad they went with it.  They looked fabulous.

After another round, we headed to another bar and met up with Erin, who Cindy transformed into a sailor.

They love us at this bar, and the manager took a great shot of us.

We finally headed over to the Knights of Columbus for a party.  It's totally random, but these two guys have been renting out the place and getting a DJ for about 6 years.  It's always more and more crowded and this year it was packed.  We met up with Erin's boyfriend, Adam, and just had a great time dancing and talking to people.

They always do a variety of costume contests.  Last year Dave was in the Best Overall (as opposed to Most Creative and Sexiest) Contest as Beetlejuice and came in second.  This year, Keith made it to the Best Overall Contest.  And again, he came is second.  First place went to Pinhead, which was at least interesting and well done.  I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but I don't think it was a mask.

Although there were two guys (I guess they were guys) who had costumes I loved.

Aren't they great?  The Yip Yips from Sesame Street!  Look at how great those costumes are:

from sesamestreet.com

It was such a fun night, as always.  Eventually we got tired of the crowd and decided to head back home.  Rachel and John spent the night with us, and we invited Cindy and Keith back too.  On the way home, we got the late-night drinking munchies, so I ended up making pizza and mini-muffins at 1:30 in the morning.  We ate, watched part of a terrible Halloween movie, and finally called it a night.

Now it's time to think about next year's costumes!