…died yesterday.  

I had him longer than I had Kevin – Napolean has been with me ever since the summer of 2005, and Kevin became his ferret’y dad when we married a year later.

He loved playing with his bell toy, snuggling in warm rags, and bouncing around the room. He had this little plastic squeaky toy shaped like a little man in a blue coat that he would drag around the house with him. When excited, he would make a chucking/kissing type of noise, and when he was upset he would hiss.

Shoulder rides were his favorite thing (besides his little blue man), and he was good at giving kisses. He would even jump in my arms from the floor when I reached down towards him.

He was a good, funny little guy and my heart is broken that he’s gone.

Although we didn’t know it until a few months ago, Napolean had kept a huge secret from us his whole life – he was actually a girl. It took a sharp eyed neighbor to fill us in. We tried calling him a her for a while, but old habits die hard – and we finally decided that Napolean(a) would forever and always be a “he” to us. I’m sure he really didn’t mind.

His nicknames included “Poley”, “Snicky Nicky” and the occassional “Snickelodeon”.

His cage is forever empty now, and his food dish is sitting there on top, never to be replenished again.

The little jingle bell wooden toy that hung in his cage these past 3 years will be going into my memory box.  It’s hard – I keep thinking I hear his jingle bell rattling like he does, then it will hit me that he’s no longer there to rattle it.  I cried for hours last night.  Kevin said he even shed a small tear on his way home from work after I told him.  

We’re about to bury him in the backyard.  We made him a coffin out of Kevin’s size 14 shoe box, and wrapped Napolean up in a nice dish towel. 

He’ll be buried with his water bottle, and the little blue man that he loved so much in life.

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….we’re taking our dog PupPup to their clinic be neutered. It’s pretty nice – they offer it for only $50. Our main vet cost over $200! His appointment is at 8:00, and we’ll be picking him back up this evening at 5 pm. He wasn’t allowed to eat or drink anything after 6 pm last night, poor fellow. He has no clue what’s about to happen. I just hope it isn’t too painful.

In the meanwhile, we’ll be helping my dad clean his yard up – tons of family folks are coming for thanksgiving! Mom is the “matriarch” of her siblings….her 8 siblings…and we’re a very close family. I love when all of us get together, even though I am the youngest one of the “first-grandchild generation” that lives in SC. Almost all of my cousins are at least 8 years older than me….one of them is 44, I believe…and all of the others are at least 8 years younger than me. I’ve always felt like a baby around the older ones and a big, protective sister around the others. But such is life.

Afterwards, we’ll be leaving Jack-Evan with my mom and dad at 5 pm while Kevin and I take the SUV to pick up PupPup. He’ll need to be able to lay down in the back, so we have to remove the baby car seat base to make room to let the seat down.

If I didn’t have a baby, we’d also be headed to the Kelly Clarkson and Reba Macintire concert in Charlotte, North Carolina tonight at 8 pm. Kevin was the 10th Caller on a local radio station trivia contest and won two tickets this past Wednesday (they’re worth around a hundred bucks each).  He was so excited when he told me!  But after deliberating about 3.6 seconds, I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave my baby for that long yet. We’d be gone round trip about 7 hours! Kevin even offered to let me go alone with a girlfriend, saying he would like to see me go have fun for my birthday (Dec. 1), but I passed that up too. I just can’t fathom being away from Jack-Evan yet. In my mind, I know he’d be fine for that amount of time since he’s now accepts sippy cups and baby food, but in my heart, I knew it wasn’t him I was worried about – it was ME. I’d probably have a massive meltdown being away from him. It’s. Just. Not. Doable.  No way, no how.  Maybe when he turns 26 or something, but at just 6 months old?  nope.  Not even the fun of a power vocal duo concert could draw me away from my sweet little baby.  Plus, what if he decides not to take the sippy cup?  What if he just wants good ol’ fashioned mommy cuddles?  What if he starts crying and I’m not there to sooth him?  What if he says MumMum and I can’t hear his calls? what if he turns his head around justso in that way he does that’s so cute, looking for me, and doesn’t see me? What if he thinks I abandoned him?  His reasoning skills and sense of time isn’t too well developed ya know.  I just couldn’t bare it if one ounce of him missed me.  I just couldn’t bare it if one ounce of ME missed him.  He’s my little poopie head, you know.

Anyway, I’m making myself cry, silly sentimental momma that I am.  And I’m not even going anywhere!  Just the thought of being that far away sends me into emotional meltdown.

Luckily I have an understanding husband.  He found someone at work to gift the tickets to, and hasn’t said anything more about it.  He’s quite the nice guy.

So I better go.  Keep PupPup in your thoughts!

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…no?

Well ours is.

To date, he’s snatched 3 jars of peanut butter, 3 dozen Krispe Kreme doughnuts, 2 loaves of bread, a full pack of Combo pretzels, a roll of saltine crackers, a bowlful of pork & beans, and a prenatal vitamin.

It all happens innocently enough….

Usually I…uh..I mean..one of us…will be munching merrily on a snack or making a sandwhich - and absentmindedly lay it down on the counter or the coffee table.  Then, I…uh…one of us…will forget about said snack.

Later on, we’ll be outside, innocently enjoying ourselves, knowing full well that the dog has chosen to laze around indoors…and it will hit us.  Kevin and I will look at each other in horror, and, in unison, proclaim “PUP PUP!!!!!!!!  NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!”.  Then there will be a mad cartoon-esque dash indoors where we’ll spy a happy…but full…Pup Pup, creeping stealthily back to his spot for a nap.  

Normally he leaves no trace of his misdeeds, other than a smeer of peanut butter on his ear or a piece of plastic fluttering through the living room….but, HA, this time I caught him. 

I caught him in the very act.

And what did I do? 

Stood back and laughed.

Fo’ shame.

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Ok.  We have 3 dogs – Gabby, PupPup, and Gertrude (our 3 mo. old puppy).

Make that 3 veryhappyoverexcitedplayfulfunfilledhyper dogs at this moment.

They’re medium size doggies, approximately 30-40 lbs., but right now they sound like a herd of elephants!

Since they sleep indoors with us at night time, all 3 of them are usually with me after 9 pm until I go to bed.  And for some reason, over the past few days they’ve invented this game of tag which they play for about 30 minutes each night until they completely wear out.  This game of tag involves all 3 of them chasing each other at full speed up and down our hallway, around our kitchen, through our living room, and back down the hallway. 

While barking.

Loudly.

It’s so very, very funny to watch but I must say it does get quite annoying at times!  Especially when they crash into furniture and overturn huge area rugs.  I just thank God that our laminate floor is withstanding their paws.  I don’t think the dogs have my same appreciation for the floor though – they slip and slide on it in the most twistable, funny ways (think “Thumper on Ice” from Bambi).

(Oh and for more added pleasure, Gertrude is in our hallway bathroom at this moment barking at the toilet.)

I feel like this game of tag that the dogs have invented lately is their way of training me in patience.  While watching them play, I can imagine the day when not only 3 dogs will be running around our house, but 3-4 rambunctious kids as well (we want 4 children)!  I will definately need all of this new-found patience training then.

Patience to ignore the annoying, loud noises.

Patience to ignore the overturned rugs, scattered pillows, and bumped over lamps.

Patience not to get angry at those I’m in charge of.

Patience not to yell in the heat of the moment.

Patience to ignore my fear of a dirty, scratched floor.

Patience not to slap my hand on the chair and yell for everyone to please just shut up for one minute (like I just did).

Patience not to invoke bodily harm after enduring nerve racking-chaos!

Patience to find the humor is others not-so-becoming actions.

Patience to enjoy other’s spontaneous pleasure.

Patience to just live in the moment and have fun.

Patience to connect with family and play together.

Ahh… It’s terrific how much we can learn from our animals in preparation for being a better parent.  If only we could always pay close attention to these tiny teachable moments in life.

Thank you, Gabby, PupPup, and Gertrude.  Little Jack is forever in your gratitude.

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This past weekend, our final 2 puppies (born Feb. 11 to our dog Gabby) finally headed off to their new home.  We’re not breeders, and this was a very much unintentional litter, but we still loved these little puppies so much!  It was hard to see them go.  They were born on our kingsize bed and even lived in our bedroom for the first whole 5 weeks of our life – so we were very attatched to them.

On Saturday, our little black girl, whom I called “Little Bear” (because she, well, looked like a little bear) went to a new home with owners who had a tan doggy that looked exactly like our Gabby. 

Then on Sunday, the final tan puppy then headed off to his new home.  He’s a tall little happy fellow, with a tail a mile long – so he had earned the nickname of Mr. Happy Tails! 

I’ll definately miss them. 

Me & the puppy

Kevin & the puppy….(we honestly didn’t plan on doing the same “face”!)

Puppy about to leave with his new owners

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Well, folks.

The other day we learned of some very devastating news.

It was so devastating that I refuse….absolutely refuse…to believe it.  It was so devastating that it shocked the pants completely off of me and Kevin. 

Not to mention it made me very sad (and quite stupidish-feeling)!

 …our dear, sweet, loveable funny little boy ferret Napoleon…

…aka “Poley” and “Snicky Nicky”…

…the ferret I’ve had longer than I’ve “had” my husband…

…the boy ferret that has lived under my roof for close to 3 years now…

Well… 

He’s a girl. 

That’s right.

A girl, I say.

Our neighbor’s daughter, who is my age, shared the terrible news with us the other day when she was playing with him.  She has an authentic boy ferret.  And as it seems, authentic boy ferrets have anatomy parts in a very different place than our Napoleon Napoleana does.

Who knew?

(Don’t laugh….my expertise in animal sexing belongs in the dog realm.  To this day I still can’t tell a boy cat from a girl cat.  And now I learn I can’t tell a boy ferret from a girl either).

When I bought him her we were told that he was a boy.

But…BOY…were they wrong.

I’m heartbroken.  I wonder if Napoleon Napoleana knew all along?  I hope there will be no lingering scars.  Bless his her confused little heart.

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…or… “Petrie Through the Ages” 

“Petrie and Banjo”

I have a huge love for animals!  And while my loyalty lies mostly with dogs, it does extend greatly over into the realm of other critters.   For instance, take my bird.I’ve had my Quaker Parrot, Rob Petrie (aka. “Petrie”) for almost 5 years now.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with parrots, the Quaker Parrot (or “Monk Parakeet”) is one of the best known talking bird species in the world.  Only the African Grey Parrot stands a chance of beating these little feisty critters at a verbal sparring match.

My Petrie is no exception.

He came to live with me in August of 2003, while I was still living at my parents (and 2 years before I met Kevin).  Within a few short weeks he was already saying “Step Up!” (a command we give him when we want him to step on our finger).  It wasn’t until he was nearing his first birthday, however, that he really began to let loose.

In July of 2004, my father had 2 massive heart attacks.  The night after the first one, my mother and I had returned home, and I stayed up all night in my room playing the nintendo – I didn’t want to sleep for the fear of waking up only to be told my father had passed away (fortunately that didn’t happen).   All of the commotion also meant Petrie wasn’t getting his fair share of attention.  I did have his door of the cage open (he lived in my room) for him to wander around though.

Sometime around 3 am, things get quiet and I see him poke his head out of the cage door and eye me suspiciously.  And then…. he says (in the most indignant voice he could muster)…

“Whatcha doin????? COME HERE!!”

Just to make sure I had heard him (I had, really, I was just speechless!), a few seconds later he uttered it again.

It was a very sweet, bright moment in that long dark night!

Another time, back when we still lived at my parents, Petrie had been playing on his big bird toy in the living room and it was getting very late.  I was on mom’s couch reading a book, not paying much attention to him.  You know, just letting him do his own thing.  Usually he’s a good bird and stays on his toy.   Not this night though.  He climbed down to the floor.

What are you doing, Petrie-Oh?? I asked him.  Then I put him back on his toy, and went back to reading.  We repeated the scene two more times, with him getting visibly frustrated with each scene. 

Finally, he climbs down – super fast – one last time and starts speed walking across the floor, towards the hallway (my room, with his cage was down the hall).   Frustrated, I put my book down, stare at him and say “Petrie, what in the world do you think you are doing?”

Without breaking stride, he looks at me – very indignantly – as he marches past and yells…

“GOODNIGHT!!!!”

Over the years Petrie has added much more to his vocabularly.  Some of his favorite utterances include:

• Come Here!
• Banjo Ruff Ruff! (Banjo lives at my parents)
• Little Bird (the name of my mom’s parrotlet that passed away a year ago)
• Prissy Butt (my dad’s yorkie)
• Bye Bye
• Goodbye
• Goodnight
• Petrie-Oh (my nickname for him)
• Hello? Hello?
• Go to Bed
• Uh ohhh…HAHAHAHAH.
• Thank You

All of these are said at appropriate moments too – without us teaching him.  For instance, he connected the fact that Banjo barks.  One day we were teasing him, and asked “Where’s banjo?”.   He perked up and said “Banjo?  Ruff ruff!!”.   He’ll bark in the particular “voice” of all of our other dogs too.  He’s also been known a few times to say “Turn that DOWN!” when the TV was blaring.  Blowing strawberrie toots is his favorite game, not to mention sticking out his tongue (if I stick out mine, he’ll stick out his!). And he lets loose the occassional shocking 4 letter D-word whilst fighting animatedly with his bird toy.  (How embarrassing)

As many quakers are known to be, he’s a very independant bird (not a cuddler like a cockatoo would be).  He also thinks he’s 10 feet tall and would rule the house if we let him.   The best word to describe him is Indignant.  (Indignant: angered at something unjust or wrong; “an indignant denial”; “incensed at the judges’ unfairness”; “a look of outraged disbelief”)

For instance, right now he is screaming his head off at me (while looking back and forth between me and his food dish) because I haven’t fed him lunch yet.  He gets very, very indignant when I’m late with lunch.

The 2nd best word to describe him is hilarious.  We’ve had many great times with him and it’s great to have a little buddy to talk to in the house – and know that he’ll talk back! 

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Ahhh..yes… nothing more is needed to be content around our house than those 3 things.   The day is over (it’s 12:25 am, Wednesday night…shhhhh all is quiet).  Our bird is asleep, hubby is asleep, the ferret is asleep, puppies are asleep, and I’m sitting in the living room, indian style in our big recliner, all by myself with the laptop open on the arm of the chair, finishing up some emails and online payments. 

I have some gorgeous classical music playing in the background (courtesy of Hadias’s awesome blog “A Day in the Life Of…”), and all is well in the world.  I’m a pretty solitaire person, so quiet moments like these recharge me to my fullest – and I like to make the most of them now because in less than 9 weeks I’ll be saying goodbye to my solitude and starting a new life as someone’s full time mom and 24 hour caretaker.  It’s sort of bittersweet in a way – trading one marvelous lifestyle for another.

Anyway, Gabby, our chow, is one of the sweetest dogs I’ve ever known – and she sure does love her mommy!    A few minutes ago she came walking lazily in here to the living room and crawled up in the recliner with me to share a “huggie”.  Our little doggified moment toether was pretty touching so I tried to capture it with my camera phone.  The photos aren’t that crisp since it was so dark in here, but Gabby still looks sweet as ever.

Being the mom to a loving dog is a great feeling.  They’re so trusting and loyal.  They never talk back, never complain, love you unconditionally, always happily greet you at the door when returning home, understand many things you tell them, never share secrets, would protect you with their own life, and know how to “forgive seventy times seven”.  When you think of it that way, it kinda makes you wish humans were more dog like, ya know? 

Goodnight everyone!  Happy tails to you…until we meet again….

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On February 11, at 8:06 pm, I got to witness something I’d never seen in my 25 short little years on earth – the birth of puppies!  My Chow, Gabby, and I had just snuggled in that night for an early sleep.  Her breathing was heavy and I knew the puppies would arrive any time now, but I just didn’t think they’d arrive so darn fast!  I also thought Gabby would have the kindness to go to her birthing box first. 

Kevin had just told me he was headed out to fill up his gast tank, said goodnight, cut the light off and closed the door.  As soon as the light was off, I felt Gabby stiffen beside me and yelp slightly.

Uh. Oh.

I turned the bedside lamp on QUICKLY – just in time to see the puppy finish her path out into the world (along with the afterbirth, which Gabby proceeded to eat….but we won’t talk about that part).  That was at 8:06 pm.  The next pup arrived at 8:46 pm and 3 more made an appearance after that over the next 2 hours.  It was all very, very amazing to see the birth of 5 puppies and watch a mother dog at her finest (I’m glad I’m not a dog though! Eww!).  

At 11 pm, we transferred the 5 healthy pups and their mother to the little birthing box / hut we had for her in the corner of our bedroom and they went to sleep for the night.

Did I mention they were born ON our bed?  Well it was soaked.  Thank goodness I had an extra blanket under Gabby at the time, or else our poor country quilt would have caught the worst of the bloody gore.  Gabby had cleaned up a ton of it, but it was still wet all the way to the mattress.  All the bedding had to be washed immediately and we “Tide-cleaned” our mattress and let towels soak up the rest.  Even with all that, I still thought it was an amazing experience.  

The puppies have lived in their little hut in our room since that night.  They turned 3 weeks old today and have had their eyes open for a week now.  A few days ago they also started walking – and now the two oldest ones are running.  They’ve even learned to wag their tail and bark.  There is nothing more adorable than a 3 week old puppy running to you, wagging their tail!  They’re also venturing out of their little hut now, and starting to roam around that part of our bedroom and into the master bath.  Today, I went in and found all 5 of them snuggled in a ball together on the bathroom floor.  It was much too cute.

Unfortunately, they’ve also started to really pee and poopie in the past few days.  Gabby has had the doggy job of cleaning up their potties since birth, but as they’re getting older, she’s doing it less and less (and I’m cleaning more and more).  In a few days we’re going to move them permanently into the bathroom to make clean up duty easier.

It’s going to be sad to watch them go!  We’re not breeders, so this was one of those misfortunate “accidents” but we love the puppies so much anyway.  We’ll be finding 4 of them a great home sometime next month, but one of them we’ve fallen so in love with that we’ve decided to keep her.  She was the very first puppy born at 8:06 pm!  She has a fuzzy black coat, but has the most beautiful brown markings on her muzzle and legs.  If you run your hand along her fur in the opposite direction of the growth, you’ll see the undershading of fur is brown too (while the top fur layer is black).  She’s quite gorgeous.

We think she was meant to stay with us all along too  because she earned a name within 2 hours of being born.  I’m not sure how or why, but the name Claudia Gertrude just stuck like glue to her.  

So now we have “Gertrude” as part of our family. 

Here is a photo of her sleeping that I took on the camera phone last week.  She likes to sleep on her back.

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This is my Grandfather Jack’s other daughter, and my mom’s baby sister …or, well, at least that’s what my parents tell me!  That’s why I call her my Aunt Prissy.  She came to live with my grandparents the day after Thanksgiving of 2003.  She was homeless, 2 year old yorkshire terrier, and Grandfather fell in love with her. 

She is very very spoiled, and eats prime rib steak and chicken that my Gramma Cill cooks-to-order for her whenever she begs for it.   She’s very pretty and very sweet and we all love her.

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