Emma!

A couple of weeks ago we put Jake through a trial-by-fire. For some time we've been wondering how Jake would act around children, since we have about 800 nieces and nephews, and we're lucky enough to be friends with the coolest almost-four-year-old ever.

We're happy to report that Jake was a perfect gentleman. Now if he could just behave himself around my BFF Katie. Katie's a small lady, and Jake thinks she's his princess. Seriously. He loves her.

Here is an example of how awesome Jake acted around Emma:

Plus, how cute is this kid? Honestly...

My Dog is a Murderer

So, last night, Dwight and I are watching Castle on iTunes, because we've failed to set the DVR for it for the last, I don't know, 9 weeks, and we were interested to see if it was any good. Turns out it is. We like it a lot. So we had just finished up and were doing some internet research for a project that I just started working on yesterday - it's an idea I got from a guy I work with (Thanks, R!) and it's actually going to turn out pretty cool. Turns out Richmond is a small enough place that you can find small degrees of seperation between darn near EVERYTHING. Anywhoo, we're looking up stuff on the ol' Interwebs and I hear this hellacious squawking outside. It sounded really close to the back door, and I said to Dwight, "Hon, I think Jake got a bird, can you go check?"

Sure enough, Jake is sniffing at this little blue and black birdie that is writhing around on the ground. Dwight grabs his collar and pulls him back, and the little birdie is gasping for breath and trying to move. It gives up the ghost right before my eyes. I feel awful. I look at Jake. He doesn't feel awful. He looks extremely curious why we won't let him go chew on his new treat, and kind of excited that we're both out there paying attention to him and saying his name, but there is no guilt.

**I know what you're thinking, and dogs CAN feel guilt. Maybe not all dogs, but some of 'em. I've seen it.

Anyway. Dwight is holding on to the dog. Someone's got to get rid of the dead bird, otherwise the rascal will eat him. I go inside, whimpering a little, because I was pretty sad, put on some surgical gloves (my dad bought a bulk box so that I wouldn't do housework with my bare hands and I had an unfortunate accident with the regular kind of rubber gloves one time - different story for a different time, but it involved the little yellow fingertip of the glove getting folded under whilst scrubbing, then flipping back up and shooting cleaner into my eye - a situation I'm not anxious to repeat, so I wear surgical gloves and safety glasses while I clean the bathroom and kitchen. Go ahead and laugh, but The Works toilet cleaner BURNS...where was I? Oh yeah, putting on surgical gloves to dispose of dead birdie) grabbed a plastic trowel that I thought I'd thrown away a long time ago, a shoebox from Payless Shoe Source (you could pay more for a bird coffin, but why?) and went outside. In retrospect, I'm surprised I didn't put on my safety glasses.

I scooped the little guy up and put him in the box. Buried the box where Jake can't get to it, and that is the end of this sad little tale, and why my dog is a murderer. As a side note, that dead bird is a cautionary tale to other birds who swoop down and Jake daily and try to eat his eyeballs. Suckas better recognize.

Pet Feeding, Part Three

The 3rd Installment

Note how Jake wants nothing to do with Scarlett, even though she's trying to be all sweet.

Dwight is ALMOST finished mixing the food. He hasn't very much liked that I told all three of you who read this that it takes him forever to mix the food. So sensitive...

Pets

A few things you should know about us before you watch this video:

• we recycle, so that big pile of bags and bottles and boxes you see between the cat dishes and the microwave? That's not trash. It's clean recyling stuff for the nice recycling people who pick up our recycling.
• The Kitty thinks she should be fed all the time, every day. You will notice that she is not exactly skinny. We feed her a reasonable amount, and try to exercise her every day. She's just voluptous.
• Dwight takes FOREVER to get the animal's food ready. FOREVER. This video series will illustrate that point. I do not show this to complain about that. It is just a fact.
• When my dad's brother had his first kid, he'd take endless videos of her rolling over in her crib. Not too interesting to a 6-year-old, but now I understand. When they're yours, they are cute. I hate to think what we'll be like when we have kids. We're pretty stupid about our pets.

If one were to do a blow-by-blow, it might go a little something like this...

Cat: It's food time.
Me: What Kitty? What is it Kitty?
Cat: Whatareya? Stupid? It's food time. Foooood tiiiiimmmeeee.
Me: Whosis Kitty? Issiboo Kitty?
Cat: Honestly.
Me: Whoosiewhatcheeissiboo Kitty?
Cat: I'm going over here to check on the progress of my dinner.
*cat's tail twiches uncontrollably*
*cat wonders what is taking so long. cat wishes she could see up on the island. maybe he should be giving her more food.
*cat thinks that the spoon and dry food sound sounds closer to being done*
Cat: Better mosey on over to my....Run! The food! It's coming! Better hurry!
Cat: WTF?

The End. Stay tuned for the next thrilling installment of Pet Feeding Time at the Johnson Home.

Snow Day

Today was a snow day. I finished the John Cusack article for http://www.toptenz.net/, answered work emails, and then worked on my paper for Immigrant literature, which I have changed sixteen times since the two times I blogged about it. Sheesh. Tomorrow, from the time I wake up (EARLY) until it's time to log into work (11 AM) I am going to finish it. Then I will work on a spreadsheet project I have pending. Fun. Then I will study for Poli Sci. Sometime before 5 I will finish a special project I'm working on for a friend, then I will try to clean part of the house.

Ambitious, aren't I?

Jake, as it turns out, likes the snow. It snowed 7 or 8 inches here. This is what it looked like from my front porch:

And here are the poor vehicles, all covered in snow:

And here is Jake, enjoying the snow a whole whole bunch.
My herculean hubby hauled all the heavy snow out of the driveway. That was really nice of him, seeing as how I can't even set one toe on snow without causing myself serious bodily harm. Grace. Grace is not my name.

More Jake

Since yesterday was so nice, we did a lot of playing outside with Jake. He's so high energy but doesn't really have a lot of focus. No interest in chasing the ball, but he likes this discus-type thing I bought. He doesn't want to catch it, he just wants to bring it to me and then play tug-of-war with it. I have a video of that, but it's not near as hilarious without audio, so let me work on that before I roll it out as the Most Ferocious Dog Ever video. I wish Dwight had the camera on us at one point, when every bit of Jake left the ground in his attempt to vanquish the floppy Wal-Mart discus.

Anyway, here is a little video of Jake loving on his new parents. We adopted him officially on Saturday. So, meet Jake Chambers of Richmond Johnson.

Can't Stop The Cuteness

I'll have to be sure to get some shots outside during the daytime, so that he doesn't look so devilish...

Jake Chambers of Richmond

Jake is a delight to be around. He is so, well, ENTHUSIASTIC about life. I guess that comes from being a dog, though I'm extremely prejudiced and think that he's got an exceptionally great demeanor, even for a dog. I think he's really happy to be here. Dwight's happy about it too.

He stretches a lot, which makes me think he's still growing. I think he's a lot younger than we initially thought.

We got him this big silky pillow at Wal-Mart and he really likes to sit on it.

And sleep on it.

I know it's stupid, but I can't help but think about the fact that Jake had this whole other life before we met him, and that he can't just tell us about it. I mean, we can speculate till the cows come home, but we don't know for sure. And never will. Take that, Control Freak Tendencies. I have a couple possible pasts in mind:

1) He was a farm dog. The favorite of the litter, he would ride around in the truck with the kindly old farmer. He slept in the barn at night and chased all the barn cats. One tragic day the farmer died, and his closest kin came to settle the affairs of the farm. Unfortunately for Jake, the closest kin was the farmer's city-slickin' son who closed down the farm and took all the animals to the closest animal control facility. There Jake sat for days and days, confused and hurt by the heartbreaking turn of events. The Henrico Humane Society picked him up, took him to the vet, and then put him out on display in front of the Petco, hoping that a nice family would take him home. Enter Dwight and me, who met him and wanted to take him home. The rest is history (that we're making right now).

2) He was part of a puppy farm (illegal puppy breeding factory things). He escaped, was caught on the road, hoping to catch a ride with a nice trucker or bus driver. He got picked up by Amelia County animal control, and the rest follows.

3) He was traveling around Amelia County, searching for intellegent life. He heard a human coming, and quickly morphed into dog form, when he was picked up and the rest follows as above. He has since decided that he likes to be in dog form, and will stay that way until the Mothership appears.

No matter what the circumstances, I'm glad he's here. Plus, he does this funny burrowing-wiggling around thing:

He's not weird. Not at all.