Monthly Archives: April 2011

Who’s Your Daddy?

When Nitram came home tonight, Pickle was thrilled to see him. She wiggled herself all over the place and mushed herself onto him and she was so happy. So was he!

It’s lasted all night, too. He took her out for a short walk and she went right with him without a backward look. He had her sit for the leash on/off, and for a treat, and before being invited onto the couch next to him (where he was promptly conscripted to belly rubbing).

She’s been really relaxed all evening. She’s in her chair in the living room now, while he watches TV in there. All is well in Pickle’s house. :)

Toxic Waste Birthday

My Uncle Richard stopped by today. I didn’t know it was him at first because I don’t know his truck, and he drove up in a big silver pickup with McCain/Palin stickers on the back windows. I thought: Why is there a scary Republican in my driveway and what does it want?

He took three large, empty plastic buckets out of the truck and said that Dad wanted to take them home (Dad — his older brother — is coming here in a couple days for a visit from NH… more on that in a moment). We were on the porch and he said, “Maybe I shouldn’t leave them out here, it’s supposed to get pretty windy. What about the barn?”

“Dad will forget them if they’re in the barn. So will I.”

“Where would you like me to put them?”

“Can they go in the house?” I couldn’t see the labels because they had dried white stuff dripped on them, and he had all three in one hand.


“I mean, what was in them, is it safe?” I was thinking about Pickle and what if she licked them or something.

“Of course it’s safe.”

“No, what was in them, any sort of, I dunno, poison?” I was thinking maybe lawn fertilizer, who knows.

“Yes, poison in this one, three dead bodies in that one — of course it’s safe, they’re empty spackle buckets!”

“Okay, now they can go in the house. Jeeze.”


I love my Uncle Richard.

So yeah, Dad called me a few weeks ago and said he wanted to come down from NH and take me out to dinner for my birthday. I was puzzled. Usually he calls me on my birthday. Come all the way from NH just to take me out to dinner? Well, okay…

It wasn’t until after we’d hung up that I realized he was mistaken about my birthday. I turned 50 last April, got the usual phone call from him. So if he’s wanting to take me out to dinner all the way from NH to CT, he must have forgot I turned 50 last year and he thinks this is the year to make a big deal out of it.

So he called today to confirm all that, and it went like this:

“…blah blah blah, so how does it feel to be old, etc…”

“Well, I’ve already been through 30, 40, and 50, so 51 is no big deal.”

“What — wait!”

“I knew it.”


“That’s why you’re making a big deal about coming down here and taking me out to dinner: because you thought it was my 50th birthday. Which you MISSED last year.”

“Oh, jeeze!!”

“Senile old coot.”

“Oh, god! Well, make sure you pick a really nice restaurant, I have a whole year to make up for!”

And I’m not getting any younger.


She’s here, she’s happy, and already getting rather spoiled. Working on some leash training, doing lots of cuddling. When we take the leash off the wall hook she starts wiggling happily like she’s going to wiggle herself in half. She hasn’t had any accidents so being in the shelter for a few months didn’t affect her previous housebreaking, which is nice.

The shelter estimates she’s close to 7 years old, but she acts very young. She’s a Dalmatian/Whippet mix. They said she is a “flight risk” in that she’ll shoot right out the door when you open it. Just a couple of hours after she was home, Nitram opened the door without checking to see if she was behind him and she ran out onto the porch. He was afraid she’d run into the road so he tried to grab her, and missed. She screamed because he scared her, and she ran the rest of the way onto the back deck, which was good because she can’t get to the road or driveway from there. We got her back in the house and she was terrified of him for a few hours after that. He felt awful. But she warmed up to him again, just not fully yet. She’ll sit next to him on the couch, let him pet her and rub her belly, but won’t always come to him when he calls. He was petting her last night and told her she was being fickle, and I thought he said she was like a pickle, hence her name.

I think we may be letting him be the one to give her training treats for the most part, for now, to get him back in her good graces. She’s very treat-oriented so we’ll have to be careful to stick with the tiny training treats, but we’re going to take advantage of her love of them to help motivate her.

She’s just utterly adorable. :)