Interior Decorating

I grew up in a “shoes off in the house” family. It was a near mortal sin to walk in, during any season, wearing anything other than socks. I’m ok with this even though it takes a few more seconds going in or out. Who wants to get their socks or bare feet all gritty or dirty? Ironically, the other part of this is regular vacuuming. Again, I’m good with this.

Actually, I’m not totally good with this. I don’t like vacuuming (although I do swoon over our new one). With the addition of Pumba, it’s unavoidable. Gucci doesn’t shed, but he definitely does. Combine that with the impossible amount of dust that makes it inside, vacuuming isn’t optional. 

So vacuuming it is. 

The problem is, apparently Pumba has particular, shall we say, decorative tastes contrary to this. His “back to nature” theme makes it look like a pine tree exploded in the living room. I mean, pinecones, leaves, and branches get obliterated. This happens without fail within 24 hours of a cleaning. It also makes keeping any kindling for the fire pit in the yard unadvisable.

Poopscapades

A friend once told me we have more poopscapades in the Hooligan Household than she does with her nine month old baby. We don't have kids with whom to compare, but I think she might be right. Pumba definitely takes the lion's share of this in our house, but Gucci isn't without her contributions either. Neither are usually very funny at the time, but in a day or two (or sixty), I can come to see the humor in these situations.

Gucci provided a novel episode of potty humor the other day in a way that I would only have expected from Pumba, if for no other reason than that he eats anything and everything. As I was standing by the bed folding laundry and humming along to the radio, I didn't notice Gucci make her way into the room until she sat on my feet.

My feet became suspiciously warm and slimy. Afraid to look but already knowing what I'd see, I nudged her off and she waddled a few feet away. Yes, that's right, my bearded lady had eaten enough grass to, well, let's just leave it at she ate too much long grass.

I think we all know what happened next. I know as a nurse I've done far grosser things, but outside of the hospital, the gross threshold is much, much lower. Gucci knocked the limbo bar right off with this one. 

Beards

The Hooligans both have beards. Pumba's only counts in the sense that a seventeen year old’s scruff is also a beard, though. It’s all stringy. Hooligan Dad doesn't want to trim it because it does fit his personality, it’s just really gross.

His method of greeting primarily consists of face-butting you and giving sloppy kisses on your face if at all possible. He also frequently does walk by beard-draggings. Especially after drinking, he’ll come over and wipe his dripping beard all over your leg.

Gucci's beard is full and bushy. She’s our bearded lady. But make no mistake, she's only marginally less gross in this regard.

She keeps her beard generally pretty clean, but when she gets dirty, she goes all out.

Intelligence

Gucci is pretty focused and smart. They say dogs can't plan multiple steps ahead, but "they" haven't met my dog. Mostly she uses it to get into mischief. One night when she was being watched at a friend's place, he came home to find Gucci had gotten into the pantry and liberated the bag of cat food from the top shelf. Not only that, but she was dropping down other items of food to his dog as he walked in. This is not to say she's not distractible, just that Gucci will make her own fun.

Pumba is a different story all together. Object permanence is a little too complex for him. Consequently, he's pretty easily amused. When I ride the stationary bike we have at home, he likes to sit by the pedals and watch them go round and round. Of course, this is after he finally stopped standing in front of the pedals and getting klunked in the head each time the peddle came down. He's since found less hazardous pastimes.

The name game

Gucci came with a rather long, pretentious title. How pretentious, you ask? Well Gucci is her middle name. Really. I find this odd since she was bred in Colorado and raised in Oregon.

I got her when she was two, so I didn't have much room to work with. Since I didn't want to be calling out a seven syllable name at various parks and fields, I decided to Americanize and shorten things.

So Gucci it is.

We got Pumba at eight months from a shelter in Ohio. We're his fourth owners and kept the name he came with. He's got these funny little white tufts of hair that stick out around his nose making him look very much like Pumbaa from The Lion King. 

It's actually quite fitting. The Swahili word "pumba" means to be foolish, silly, weak-minded, and negligent. No truer collection of adjectives ever described a dog. Ok maybe that's not entirely true, but he has never been accused of being intelligent. Trainable, yes. Intelligent, not so much.

Running, doodling and skeet

No, I haven't dropped this blog yet again. It's been kind of busy around here. Not in the no-time-to-take-a-breath busy, but enough that I don't want to sit down a couple times a week and write. I figure if I'm going to do this blog thing again, I will at least make sure it doesn't stress me out :)

So I ran a 5k! Nearly two years after the first of the most recent five surgeries and only five months after the last, I did it! Peleke was out of town (foiled by the Air Force once again), and my friends were running the half marathon, but I was still smiling when I crossed the finish line to a bunch of strangers. I might have even cried a few tears. Who would ever have guessed? Not me. To my surprise shock, I actually ran the whole thing too! By run I mean 12:20 minute miles, but hey! I ran a 5k! Wow.

I spent Saturday night in Seaside with a friend and her two other friends since the race was early Sunday morning. I can't remember when I've laughed so hard or long! But we weren't laughing in the morning- it was 38 degrees and windy out. Brr!! Some sweet neighbors had me over with another neighbor family Sunday evening for a nice family style dinner and a birthday cake. Was really a fantastic weekend.

As I mentioned, Peleke has been traveling. A lot. The Hooligans missed him, and both are on the bed napping with him as I write this. His parting gift from the trip is some upper respiratory bug. Poor guy is wiped out, but the Hooligans are happy enough for the excuse to cuddle in bed during the day with him.

Speaking of the Hooligans, when I was all laid up (and not snowed by drugs, that is) I doodled some cartoons of them. Because, you know, I'm the master arteest. I'm going to throw a couple up here in the next few weeks because, um, because I can.

Spring is definitely here in the Redneck Riviera. It's bittersweet because first of all, the winters just aren't a force to contend with anyway. But secondly, summer can't be far behind. I remember when I used to love summer... Anyway, for the time being, the weather is mostly ideal. Cool to warm during the day with cool to cold at night. Most excellent. Especially for this: