Tears In My Eyes

Tonight, as a parent I experienced one of the proudest moments of my life. Seriously, my heart swelled in my chest and something became lodged in my throat.

You may or may not remember, but a little over a year ago, when we rescued The Hankster, he required a major orthopedic surgery.

Poor little guy was only 12 weeks old and he came home like this:

In the months (heck, the whole year) that followed, Cowboy H and I often questioned whether the surgery did any good. Occasionally, we considered having the entire leg amputated. For the longest time it seemed, Hank didn't even use the leg. It was just there, even in the way sometimes.

Eventually we realized that the leg was shorter than the other one. In the few weeks between his injury and the surgery, the blood supply to his femur had been compromised. For that period of time, Hank's right femur did not grow at the same rate as the other, making the leg a little stumpy. We're still not sure if he'll ever use the leg normally, despite the fact that he gets quite a bit of use out of it now.

In addition to having leg surgery, Hank was also neutered the same day. The combination of not using the leg and not having the male hormones made us wonder if he would ever stop squatting to pee.

Until tonight. Tonight, while running around at the park, Hank stood on his bad leg and lifted his good leg to pee on a pole.

I have never been prouder.

Never, ever in my life.

In other news, the winner of the "Name That Photo" contest has been decided.

The Desert Rose: "Redneck woman vacuums up two dogs..."

I seriously laughed out loud, because well, I wouldn't be surprised if I actually did vacuum up a dog someday.

Congrats Desert Rose! Take your pick of one of the following:

Redneck Woman

Although, I suppose the fact that I am vacuuming disqualifies me from the redneck category.

What do you think?

Or better yet, what would you title this photo?

Most creative (i.e. the one that makes ME laugh the hardest) gets an original black and white 8x10!

A Text Message I Sent Cowboy H

Let me give you a little back-story first. As y'all probably know by now Hank loves Cowboy H. I mean loves him. When I let the dogs back in the house after their morning potty-break, if Cowboy H is not awake and walking around, Hank runs around the bed, looking to see if he's still there. Then, if he sees or hears him still in bed, he runs around the bed even more, trying his hardest with his three little good legs to get in bed with Cowboy H.

This morning, Cowboy H left early this morning right after putting the dogs out. When I let them in later in the morning, I had pulled the covers up on the bed, so it really looked like someone was still in bed. Hank came running in and started jumping up on the bed, crying and well, looking for his dad. It killed me!

So I sent Cowboy H this text message:

"Dad please come home. i miss you. i looked for you in bed and you weren't there"

Ahahaha, I crack myself up. Seriously, who does this crap?

Please, if you are guilty of sending text messages on behalf of your pet, 'fess up. We may need to seek help together.

Welcome To My Life, Ed. 3 Vol III

Last night, Huey swiped an ENTIRE piece of pizza off Cowboy H's plate AND snarfed the WHOLE thing before either of us even knew it was gone.

Seriously. Nobody even saw it happen.

It was hilarious. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe.

The funniest part was, Cowboy H trying to blame me for stealing his pizza because I had no idea what he was talking about.

HEY! Where'd my? Did you? I had four pieces!

For probably the first time ever, Hank was sitting innocently at my feet.

And Huey? He was hiding behind the couch, licking his chops, all evidence properly destroyed by the time we figured out what happened.

Second Shooter

During our big ride with the Desert Rose a few weeks ago, I did hand off the camera for a little while. In case you didn't know, Cowboy H is a budding photographer himself, and if I were to ever start a wedding photography business (I won't) he would be my second shooter.

Seriously. There is just something about his images. He has an instinctual ability to capture the true essence of his subjects, to really bring out their best.

That day, he managed to capture a side of me rarely seen:

My grace.

My beauty.

My class.

My elegance.

*Sigh* They're all so beautiful, I just can't decide which one to blow up and put on the wall.

Feel The Love

Last night Cowboy H asked me to email him two photos.

One of him and Crow.

The other of him and Hank.

I obliged and asked if he needed full res images or if I could send him smaller, email-friendly versions.

He responded, "Um, I don't know. I want to use them as the background for my desktop, so whatever you think."

At first, my heart melted. Awww, how sweet, he wants photos of his horse and his dog at work, I thought.

Then, something clicked inside my head.

"HEY! You want photos of your dog and your horse, but what about YOUR WIFE!?!?"

And the punk that he is, just smirked and laughed at me.

Talk about feeling the love.

Welcome To My Life, Ed. 3 Vol II

The other day, I was woken up by the sound of a dog gagging and heaving, attempting to puke in my bedroom. It was still dark, very dark, and I flung myself out of bed and stumbled and fumbled around the room in a pathetic attempt to get the dog out of the house before the vomit actually came out.

By the time I got my bearings and turned on a light it was too late. Little Hanky-Panky deposited a solid chunk of bone the size of a large marble right on the carpet. Still staggering around, I shuffled him outside since he was still heaving.

First thing I thought: "Thank goodness that came back up, because there was no way it was going to come out the other end."

Second thing I thought (after glancing at my clock; remember its pitch black outside): "Phew, at least I have another hour to sleep before my alarm goes off."

And, before the thought was even completed, the alarm went off.

Stupid dog.

Stupid time change.

Stupid Monday.

Bad Hair Day

This weather is killing my hair.


Seriously, what's a girl gotta do?


Just look at this frizz.


I swear, I straightened it this morning.

Welcome To My Life, Ed. 3, Vol I

Last night, I left work with a beginning-stage migraine and a little vertigo, so I went straight home and dove under the covers in my dark bedroom.

Cowboy H offered to just order pizza for dinner (thank you, sweetie) and picked out a movie with his grandma to stream from NetFlicks while I was hiding out.

When the pizza arrived, he woke me and I staggered out to the living room to join them, feeling much much better.

"What are you guys watching?" I asked since the movie was paused.

"Oh, 40 Days and 40 Nights", Cowboy H responded.

Don't ask me who picked it; I was not involved. I mean, maybe it was an innocent mistake. All I know is we were sitting there, eating dinner and watching a movie completely and utterly about nothing but SEX, with his grandma.

Talk about AWKWARD.

Welcome To My Life, Ed. 2, Vol III

At 2 am this morning, the smoke alarm went off.

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

Then, silence.

Cowboy H: What the?!?!

Mama H: (mumbling) It's the smoke alarm.

Cowboy H: But why did it go off? Has it done that before?

Mama H: (mumbles something)

Cowboy H gets out of bed to investigate. Mama H's eyes roll back in her head and all she can think is Do NOT make me get out of bed.

Cowboy H returns from investigating and gets back in bed.

Mama H: (mumbling) What was it?

Cowboy H: I don't know. That's weird that it just went off for no reason. Maybe its a ghost.

Mama H: (a little more coherently) Maybe the fire got so hot it set it off. Maybe it has a temperature sensor.

Cowboy H: No, that wouldn't be it.

Both roll back over and start to fall back asleep.

Cowboy H: (mumbling now) You set it off. You're so smoking hot you set off the smoke alarm.

Mama H: (smiles and snuggles in)

Good golly, I love my man.

Welcome To My Life, Ed. 2, Vol II

The other night, Cowboy H and I were trying to get cozy on the couch, enjoy a fire and watch a movie. I was doing something (can't remember what) and I looked over to see Cowboy H tearing the pillows and covers off the couches, mumbling.

Where the heck is the remote?

So we start looking together. Under couches, under beds, under pillows, under cushions. Cowboy H even lifted the recliner completely off the ground to check under there.

Oh well, it'll turn up eventually.

My brain was turning, however, since I really hate when I can't find what I'm looking for. I will continue looking until I find it. Even if it makes me late to something.

How funny would it be if my dog had dragged it into the backyard. Actually, that wouldn't be that funny. Do you have a flashlight?

Sure enough, there it was, sitting right smack in the middle of the backyard grass.

Welcome to my life. You should visit regularly.

Welcome to My Life, Ed. 2, Vol I

This morning, I managed to spill an entire cup of coffee on the white carpet in our bedroom.

Then I watched the dogs clean it up for me.

Just kidding! But they did try to help.

Cowboy H laid in bed and just watched me, eyes rolling.

What did I get myself into again?

He forgets sometimes what a mess I am, specially when he has a home-cooked meal each night. Home-cooking will do that to a man, make him forget things (just a free little tip for all you ladies out there).

Extra Special

Let me tell you a little story about Hank.

Hank is extra special.

See, Hank was not wearing this harness when both Cowboy H and I left for work that morning. The reason Hank was not wearing his harness is that he chewed through it not long ago, which is evident in the photos.

However, when I got home that evening, Hank was wearing his harness. Yes, he had put his harness on himself. And he did a mighty fine job, I'd say.

Yep, extra special. That's our boy. Actually, Cowboy H's boy. I claim no responsibility.

What's Your Normal?

Last night, Cowboy H and I were lounging around in the living room, watching TV and recovering from a wonderful dinner out. About half the family had joined us and at one point I looked around and was struck by something.

One dog was sleeping on the recliner.

The other dog was sleeping on the couch.

The cat was sleeping on the bone-shaped dog bed.

And Cowboy H and I?

We were on the floor.

What's your normal?

Post-Op

Sooo, little Huey went under the knife on Nov. 7th, and had a little extra weight removed. You know those two little orbs that dangle between the male canine's legs? Yep, they're gone now.

Surgery went well and he came out with four little bitty purple sutures.

Now, those four little sutures are supposed to be removed this coming Saturday, as in two days from now. Sutures need to stay in for 12-14 days to make sure the incision line is completely healed and there is no risk of the skin opening back up.

See, I know this not because the vet told me, but because I also work for the vet. On the weekends and some holidays, I work part-time for a day clinic (the place you take your dog for vaccines and that dang ear infection) and also an emergency clinic (the place you take your dog when it gets hit by a car in the middle of the night, or on Sunday). So, I know all the rules about post-op care for your little doggie.

Only, I didn't follow them very well.

Last night I picked my Huey-duey up to check on his sutures, and there were only two.

Hey, Cowboy H, help me a sec. How many sutures do you see?

Two. Wait. Nope, only two.

A few hours later, I checked him again.

This time, there was only one hanging in there.

Oops.

I guess I don't need to take him in on Saturday afterall.

Welcome to My Life, Ed. 1, Vol IIII

Cowboy H's exact words to me:

"Your dog is NOT too big to fit through the hole. Your dog is the PERFECT size to squeeze through the hole, grab the dirty laundry and drag it all out into the backyard."

My response (fighting an outburst of laughter because Cowboy H was very upset):

"It's like they were going to have a yard sale."

At least nothing was torn up. Yet.

VICTORY!!!

So, this post was going to start an entirely different way, but just as I opened up the 'New Post' window, Oz jumped onto Cowboy H who was on the recliner and dropped his "prize" right in his lap.



He was very very proud of himself.



And I'm very very proud of him!



Victory has been had. Mama H is free from the GIANT lizard under her couch. And Oz has been redeemed as the most useful cat at the Homestead.

Editor's Note: I would like to add that the lizard is not nearly as big as I originally thought. It's just, the tail is sooo long. A tail that was left laying on my living room floor this morning with nary a body in sight. Love, Mama H

GIANT

There is a GIANT lizard under my couch. Well, I'm not sure if he's (it most definitely is a male) under the couch anymore, but he's in the house.

Last night, Cowboy H and I sat down on the NEW couch to eat dinner on the NEW tv trays. When I sat down, I pushed the ottoman/coffee table out from the couch a little bit.

Cowboy H says, "Look at that" and casually motions towards the base of the ottoman.

And there, sticking out from under, was the tail and back-end of a GIANT lizard. I mean, this sucker is HUGE. I have never seen a lizard that big before. At least, not a normal backyard lizard.

The sucker must have heard us talking about him, cause he quickly pulled his hinney under the ottoman and out of sight. Hank caught on, and spent our entire dinner-time circling the ottoman with his nose glued to the ground. At one point, he (Hank) darted from the ottoman to the back of the couch and stayed there sniffing loudly, which is how I can to the conclusion that the lizard is under my couch.

So, before bed, I had a little talk with all the kitties (well, not Olivia because she's worthless for catching anything), letting them know I excepted a big ole GIANT DEAD lizard in the middle of the kitchen floor the next morning.

But, alas, there was no DEAD lizard. Which means, there is a still very much alive GIANT lizard under my couch.

And I have THREE pretty much worthless cats.

Outtakes

The Desert Rose gave an official post and showed all the proper photos of this windy day in the desert a while back. But, in celebration of her moving back to the desert shortly, and in celebration of both Cowboy H and I getting to visit the PNW and escort Little Lady down south, I want to share a few of my own.

Enjoy!

Indian Names

I present to you:

One With Itchy Butt

And...

One With Fungus Neck

Now, can you just guess who is who??