Buster

On My Overdose

Well, by now, I'm sure that most of you have seen one or two versions of this embarassing picture. Yes, that's me, wearing a bonnet, or satellite dish, or whatever you want to call it. What can I say? First they forced me to throw up, then they forced me to eat some disgusting black stuff, which gave me black diarreah, and then they stuck an IV in me. No, I didn't want to have that IV in me, so yes, I tried to pull it out. Hence the ridiculous looking satellite dish. I also didn't want to stay in my cage...would you? I was in a completely strange place, with people who had abused me thoroughly, so yeah, I tried jumping out of my cage a few times. What's four feet? I jumped much further down than that when I learned how to balance on top of our fence at our old house...but I digress.

Probably you are wondering what possessed me to eat 25 ibuprofen. Why, when I have such a happy life, would I throw it all away like that? Well, to be perfectly honest, it was an accidental overdose. I've experimented in the past with carrot cake, cat food, raw meat, egg shells, cookie icing, gum, and I've even dabbled in benydril, but ibuprofen was a new one to me. I've always eyed the giant container of ibuprofen that my parents keep in their bathroom. They take it a lot, so I figured it probably tastes pretty good.

Now, let me tell you a little bit about my family life. Ever since my parents got the new couches, life has been pretty glum. I'm NEVER allowed on them and if I do get on them, I get yelled at. The other night, I wasn't even trying to get on them and I still get yelled at. What I was trying to do was let my parents know that I needed to go out, but they blew me off and yelled at me for jumping on the couch...so I peed on the living room table. They asked for it.

Anyway, things are usually pretty good, even though I'm not allowed to get on the couch, but my Dad can be pretty tough sometimes. My mom is pretty much a pushover about everything. Usually if I want something, all I have to do is look at her the right way. Anyway, she left me with my Dad and the cats all weekend and that was stressful for me. Things just never feel right when we're not all together.

My mom was gone for three days! When she came back, she smelled like another dog and she hardly paid any attention to me. The next morning, she got up, took me out to pee, and then LEFT ME ALONE with hardly even a good morning and not even a greenie! I was devastated. Had she found another dog? Had she decided that I wasn't good enough? Anxiety turned to sadness and then to resentment and I did what any distressed dog would do. I ransacked her purse. First I pulled out all the papers and scattered them all over the floor. Then I pulled out her pens and pencils, her chapstick, her wallet. It was only by chance that I found the ibuprofen, which was inside a partially zipped compartment. It was in a childproof bottle, but that had never stopped me before. I've chewed through many a plastic container in my lifetime. So, I did it. I ate her ibuprofen. I figured that, since it seems to be a pretty important thing to her and to my Dad, it would hurt them the most.

Of course that plan backfired...I ended up the hurt one, manhandled by aggressive nurses who kept the things I vomited up in plastic bags for my parents to see. My mom cried, which gave me a little satisfaction, but it wasn't worth the two days I had to spend in the slammer. And then there was this:

I was gone for two days and Chowder took over my new hotdog that Libby gave me! (Turns out that the "other dog" was my cousin Libby. If only I had known!) The nerve of that cat! He steals my bed, drinks my water, uses me as a launching pad, is allowed on the couch AND the bed and now has violated my hotdog! I"ll get my revenge...

I'm back from the hospital now, was well fed by my Grandma in Tallulah, only peed in the house twice, and only butt scooted once. Life is good and I'm feeling like my problem with ibuprofen is in the past...today I just ate an entire package of dog chews.

Thanksgiving pictures

It's been a very long time since we've blogged! The new couches have been battling it out with the cats (The couches are up, as their covers have been removed and stowed away for special occasions...of course that leaves the wicker open for destruction), Buster attempted to overdose on ibuprofen, Thanksgiving has come and gone. Here are a few updates from our lives:

Cleveland!

I went to Cleveland for a great visit with The Shug, Virginia and Grandpa, Kate, and Mom. The weather was awesome, the leaves were boutiful (see below for action pictures of "The Red Rakers" in Virginia and Grandpa's yard), the food was plenty, and we had a fun time visiting and being all together.

During our big leaf rake, Grandpa taught us all how to drive Big Red (which has no brakes??) We almost ran over him, which was scary. Fortunately, despite falling under the wheels of a moving cart, he was spry as ever survived the ordeal without even a scratch! And, although the leaves were hardly phased by our efforts, we felt like we had accomplished something at the end of the day. Like they say, "Cleveland Rocks."

Buster's Overdose

When I went to Cleveland, I left Jim at home to hold down the fort and take care of the kids--Buster, Emma and Chowder (one dog and two cats). On Monday morning, back in Fort Worth, I told Buster I would be back after my run to take him for a walk, and I headed out. 45 minutes later, I came home to find that my purse had been ransacked, papers everywhere, gum consumed, and bits and pieces of everything were scattered all over the house. That was Buster's revenge on me for not taking him for a walk BEFORE my run. Unfortunately, one of the things that Buster decided to eat, was a bottle of 25 200 mg ibuprofen. He chewed through the childproof bottle and ate them like skittles. So it was off to the emergency vet for him, where he had vomiting induced, was forced to eat active charcoal to soak up the rest of the medicine, and then was hooked up to an IV for two days. In addition to that humiliation, he had to wear a bonnet to keep him from chewing on his IV (see Buster's blog for pictures) AND had a huge sign on his cage which read,"Cage Jumper." Apparently, anytime anyone opened Buster's cage, he would jump out. Anyway, Buster will be writing his own blog about his ordeal, but, for now, he is ok....so far no signs of liver or kidney failure.

Thanksgiving

(Pictures to be attached separately)

I want to start this Thanksgiving blog by remembering Wish, our old family cat who had to finally be put down the Monday after Thanksgiving. Even though she was dying Wishy did her best to look perky during Thanksgiving...she ate like a pig just like the rest of us and wandered around aimlessly, occasionally running into things and peoples' legs.

Jim and I got Wish illegally, when we were in high school. We rescued her from Mr. S. our chain smoking, crazy, dramatic English teacher. Wish was named after the Cure (of course) and Jim wasn't really allowed to have a cat, so we spent several months sneaking Wish in and out of Jim's bedroom in a bookbag. Eventually, when Jim went off to college, Mom adopted Wish and she lived almost 13 years on the farm.

Thanksgiving in Tallulah was REALLY fun. We left Fort Worth early and got to Tallulah on Thanksgiving afternoon, where the usual Carpenter feast awaited us. This year, it was just the family (Mom, Dad, Kate, Will, Jim and me) and we managed, by the end of the weekend, to eat almost the entire 21 pound turkey (among other things...). Dad also built a huge bonfire in the giant grill, which kept us warm at night. We took a walk around the farm in the dark, listened to the coyotes and saw a shooting star and Dad cooked up some delicious steaks, which Jim boldly branded with Dad's initials, sacrificing the palms of his hands in the process. And, most important, Kate and Will turned 27 and 24 Thanksgiving weekend! Hooray!!

For Christmas, we'll be headed to Houston, where the holiday adventures will continue and then....Big Bend.

Ode to the Couches.
By: Claire

This past weekend, Jack and Mindy brought us some beautiful new/old couches and I am so happy not to have to sit on our old couch that I have decided to write a haiku in honor of the old one and an Ode to the new!


The Old Couch: A Haiku

Banished to Jim's room
Infused with the smell of dog
Die evil couch, die

Ode to the New Couches!

Joy and rapture! Fluffy and white, they are longer than I am! Oh new/old couches, we welcome you with open arms and much celebration! Never will we lie in cramped and painful positions to watch a movie or throw the back pillows over your edge so that there is enough room for us to sit. Never will we wrinkle our noses at the smell of you or fight to keep your slipcovers on because the zipper is broken. You don't have a zipper to break!!!!!! Never again will we opt for the cold hard floor or worry that our friends might catch a strange odor emenating from within...Oh new couches, you seriously rock.

The new couches stink

By Buster

Joy and raputure? What is this nonsense? First I have to wear the hotdog costume and now I'm not allowed to sleep on the couch anymore? What gives, people? My world is crumbling to pieces. Everytime I even go near the couches, someone screams at me to get off the couches. I'm not on the stupid couches, ok? I know I like to pretend like I can't understand anything, but it's only an act. I get it about the couches. But what is truly an injustice is that the cats get to walk all over the couches and sleep on them as much as they want. I'm going to stage a protest and throw up on those couches, the first chance I get.

And by the way, I don't smell.

A few pictures of the 80's Icons

The 80's Icon Party--Buster's view.

Well, folks, despite my best efforts, I was forced, once again, to wear the dreaded hotdog costume. I thought that since Halloween was behind us, it would be hard for my parents to come up with a good reason to dress me in that thing, but apparently, they felt that a hotdog would fit in perfectly at an 80's icon party, so, with the help of my Aunt Kate (betrayed!!), I was adorned. And I heard someone say that next year maybe I could be a taco. We'll see about that.

My parents had a party last night--a ridiculous affair, during which they and all of their friends dressed up as 80's icons and proceeded to celebrate their childhood. In attendence were Strawberry Shortcake (my mom), Crockett from Miami Vice (my dad), She-Ra Princess of Power (My Aunt Kate...she was SEXY!), Richard Simmons (played very convincingly by Andy. You should have seen him high kick! From a dog's point of view, it was spectacular), Mary Lou Rettin and her coach Bela Whateverhisnameis, Slash, Prince, Pac-Man and Ms. Pac-Man, Daisy Duke, Magnum PI, and the next door neighbor, who came as herself. At first all the people acted kind of normal, despite the fact that they were all standing around looking completely ridiculous, but as they drank the sangria my Dad made, chaos ensued. Suddenly everyone was dancing...and I don't mean in a good way. They were hopping around, doing robot moves, and someone stirred the soup. They picked each other up and swung each other around. My mom kept showing her bloomers and my Dad did the splits in the middle of the dance floor and actually split his pants. Fortunately for all of us--especially those of us who see things at a lower level--he was wearing underwear that kept everything under control.

During the dance chaos, I took the opportunity to steal some food off of the dining room table and almost got away with it, except that I accidentally knocked the platter off the table...it's hard to steal food in a hotdog costume. I had better luck with the trashcan and today, when my parents were out, I went through all of the recycling and got beer and wine all over the dining room floor. That'll teach them to dress me like a hotdog again!

Anyway, the one good thing that comes out of wearing a hotdog suit, is that a lot of the people gave me treats because I looked so "cute." The cats didn't get any attention and my Aunt Kate took me for a stroll through the neighborhood while she was wearing her She-Ra costume (cape and all), so I didn't feel like I stood out that much. I mean, who would YOU think was a freak? A woman in a superhero costume the week after Halloween or a cute, innocent, harassed dog? I think that's a no brainer.

It's a Dog's World--A Commentary on life by Buster

It seems that people find my blogs more interesting than those of my parents, so I am taking over the blog again to appease my fans. Everyone with sense knows that I'm the authority.

This Halloween, I have escaped the ultimate humiliation--the Hotdog Costume. Unfortunately, last year I wasn't so lucky. Also, this Halloween, my parents saw fit that I wear a stupid looking bandana that says "Boo" on it and is covered with white ghosts. Not only did I have to wear that thing in front of all of my cousins at the farm last weekend, but today they put it on me and made me wear it in the hope that someone would see how "cute" I looked. I'm not sure who that someone was--possibly the cats? No one else could possibly have seen me today, because I was locked inside of the house. I don't think they wanted the trick or treaters to see me, since they didn't even buy candy and have been hiding out with the lights out so that no one will think that they are home. So, I don't know what the point of the bandana was, except to exert power over me and humiliate me into submission.

But I will not submit. Last weekend, we went to the farm and I showed everyone who was boss. First, I stopped Moose from humping Libby with my masterful referee skills. Then, while all the people were out at their Pigfest I tore into the trash like a rabid beast, spreading death and destruction throughout the kitchen.

Well, maybe that last part was a little dramatic. I did get some good morsels out of the trash, though...and I did make a mess, but there was no death. Only destruction.

Of course a weekend in Tallulah wouldn't be complete if I didn't rub my butt across my Grandma's rug. And the best part is that before I did that, I scared one of the cats so badly that she lost control of her bladder ON THE SAME RUG.

Well, let's be honest. I didn't scare her...but Libby did. And Libby is a dog, too, so that means that I definitely would have scared her if I had gotten there first.

After rubbing my butt on Grandma's rug, I defeated Moose in a dramatic tug of war, which I celebrated with a victory toss of the victim of Tug of War--a stuffed bird. I tossed it so well that it's eyes popped off and gave me extra things to chew on and destroy. And then, once again, I prevented Moose from humping Libby. If I felt love for anyone besides my pink pig, I, too, would be humping Libby. But, due to some circumstances out of my control, I can only imagine what it would be like to want to hump a female dog.

The best part about the weekend is that even though I was "bad" my grandma still fed me meatloaf and even though I growled at my Shug, she still called me "Sweetie." Now that's love, people. I bet my Grandma would never make me wear a hotdog costume.

The Mexico Saga...continued (resolved???) and what we REALLY think about Travelocity

Oh yeah, the little gnome commercials are SO cute and they make life with Travelocity look cushy and fun and flexible--trips all over the world! It doesn't matter if you miss your flights! Natural disasters?? NO problem with the travel gnome!!

All we have to say to that is it's a bunch of hooey.

After 10-12 phone calls and many hours talking to Travelocity and Sun Country Airlines, we finally got our stupid refund...or we'll get it after 15-30 days. What a nightmare! Jim and I talked to no fewer than 15 different people at Travelocity and not one of them was a native English speaker, so we spent half of the conversations not being able to understand each other. Once we started to make some progress, the Travelocity person would claim that he/she had to speak with someone else and then would come back and retract every positive thing that they had told us. Yesterday, someone told me that if we cancelled our hotel reservation, we would get all but $80 back and then today I was told that we would lose all $320. After I pitched a fit about that and insisted that they call the hotel and see for themselves that it wasn't even open, they agreed that we would get our full refund.

It was the same thing with the airline. Yesterday, Travelocity said the airline had cancelled our ticket, so we would definitely get a full refund. But, unfortunately, they couldn't reach the airline due to long wait periods, so they couldn't confirm. When I got off the phone with Travelocity, I called the airline myself (on hold for 8 minutes) and they said that (insert bitchy voice of your choice here) NO THEY HADN'T CANCELLED OUR RESERVATIONS and that they NEVER give refunds for coach tickets. NEVER EVER EVER....and that it was all Travelocity's fault so we should talk to them.

Apparently overnight the airline decided that since the Cancun airport is closed to all flights but those getting people out of the city, they could, they guess, give us our money back. But we had to deal with Travelocity. An hour and a half later, Travelocity also agreed to give us our money back.

Sheesh. A word of advice to all of you who don't want to spend 12 hours in two days trying to get your money back in the wake of a hurricane. Use Travelocity to find the cheap tickets and the good deals and then book it yourself directly with the airline and hotel...or use a travel agent! They know all of the laws and what the airlines can and can't get away with. If we had done it that way, we could have avoided much confusion and may have gotten all of this figured out with time to plan for changing our destination.

As it is, we are very disappointed that we are going to miss the Katie and John wedding extravaganza in Cabo San Lucas, but we're really glad that they are still getting married this weekend, despite Wilma! We'll be celebrating from afar and we plan to spend the money that we get back on a fun trip out to Seattle to visit them and all of our other "out west" friends. It won't be Mexico, but I don't doubt it will be a lot of fun anyway.

The Mexico Saga...

Our friends Katie and John had their wedding planned in Playa Del Carmen for next weekend. Unfortunately, Hurricane Wilma decided to hang out on top of Playa for a few days, so the wedding has been moved.

Beware to all of you who book your travel on obscure airlines through Travelocity: they are liars and will try to tell you that you can't get a full refund, despite the bold print on their confirmation to you that states otherwise. At the moment, we are in the throes of trying to get our full refund and re-book our travels to Cabo San Lucas (or somewhere around there). Jim is going to put a full court press on Travelocity tomorrow...stay tuned for the gorey details.

Next blog: To Mexico or Not to Mexico?

Yesterday was my birthday!!!! I entered the last year of my 20's with a romantic get away, planned by Jim.

I have to say that turning 29 hasn't been traumatic for me at all. Yes, I have had the usual fleeting thoughts about sagging body parts and aching limbs, but, in reality, I feel better now than I did when I was in my early 20's. It has a lot to do with not living in New Orleans anymore...

Anyway, we had a great birthday celebration in Dallas, which is cosmopolitan and more happening than Fort Worth (it has good restaurants and funky bars, for example). Jim took me to a nice dinner and then to the symphony and we stayed the night at the Magnolia Hotel. Besides the luxury of not having two cats walking on us and having a bathtub that didn't require that we sit in it with our knees around our ears, the best part about the hotel room was the window shades. They had DOUBLE shades and the second layer blocked out the light entirely. I was in an insomniac's heaven.

Happy birthday to me!! One more year until I get to plan my 30th!

We apologize for the lack of blog lately. Life has been busy, sleep has been in demand, and time has been non-existant...

Here is a re-cap of the recent adventures of Jim and Claire. Last weekend, we headed up to chilly, rainy New England to celebrate the marriage of Paul and Natalie. Our flight, due to the horrible weather, was delayed, and, fortunately, Andrea and Danny let us stay at their place for the night. We surprised Jessie and Steve (who were coming over for dinner) and had a fun time re-living the old days in Arlington. It was just like 2003--delicious food, flowing wine, lots of laughter--a great start to a great weekend!

On Saturday we mapped out an alternate route through New Hampshire, which, I'm sure many of you saw on the news, was being flooded out by persistant, torrential rain storms (also the cause of our delayed flight). Ever the mapster, Jim had several routes figured out on the map of New Hampshire that we bought at a corner store, but was thwarted by various washed out roads. We took backroads through the woods and saw rushing streams and beautifully colored leaves on the way. Although it was supposedly a "muted" fall, after looking at Fort Worth all summer (it's brown), we were really impressed by the beauty of backwoods New Hampshire. It was almost better, we think, that we had to go around our usual route, because we saw so much that we probably would have missed otherwise.

Finally, after about four and a half hours, we made it to Walpole...and, being the ill prepared people that we are, didn't have a map or directions to the apple orchard. We got country directions from a local (go left a the big yellow house, make a right at the second dirt road and cut across that property, then go up two hills and around the corner) and we arrived in the pouring down rain!

When we got there, it was naptime at the lodge. All of the babies were getting ready for the big night, so we had to quietly celebrate being there and, by the time we got there it was practically time for the wedding anyway, so we just went upstairs and rested, before whipping into our wedding best and heading over to the apple orchard.

It was a beautiful wedding. The sun came out while Paul and Natalie were saying their vows and Jim got a little teary eyed when he saw Paul start up. After the wedding, we took a hayride through the apple orchards (minus the hay) and enjoyed the great music and food. Jim and Kristian shared a dance (they've got moves!) and the champagne was flowing.

The good times, unfortunately, had to end and we capped the weekend off with a nauseating drive back through the hills of New Hampshire (not such a good mix with the champagne and lack of sleep...it was fetal position all the way home for me). After fifteen hours of traveling, we made it back to Fort Worth, worn out, but happy to have gotten to spend time with so many good friends. And to those of you we missed, we'll be back soon! We have the Boston itch and we're already making plans for a longer visit ASAP!

O L I V I A

This is my niece. She's cool.

Jim has a new love....BABIES! You'll recall, from an Ofoto download not long ago, that Jim did not used to have such a good relationship with babies. In fact, he consistently made them cry. Hand a baby to Jim and both he and the baby would get VERY uncomfortable. Even with our adorable, happy neice, Jenna Hope, Jim is tentative. (Note: we'll be dedicating a whole blog to Olivia and Jenna, our neices, including some pretty awesome baby pictures of Olivia from back in the day. We'll also be creating an entire blog dedicated to Kate, during her most fashionable days. Posting old, embarassing pictures of people on the internet never gets old.) Anyway, with the help of a little champagne, it appears that Jim's baby attitude may have changed! We took a trip up north for Paul and Natalie's wedding and Jim, it seems, has become a new man! A BABY man.

The first picture is Jim, REALLY excited, because he just felt the little Bagley give a good hearty kick! Then, the next day, at Paul and Natalie's wedding, Jim played airplane with cute litte Ella Manon. She was so tickled that she threw up on him. After that, Jim was so enamored that he said, "I want one!" Suspecting that he had champagne goggles on, I re-confirmed the comment on Sunday and Jim quickly clarified, "I meant I want one some day a few years from now after we've travelled to Europe." Whew. (Don't worry, Mendy...some day we'll have one.)

In the meantime, enjoy these pictures of Jim with other people's babies. Unfortunately, we didn't get pictures of every baby over the weekend, but ALL the babies at the wedding (and there were a lot) were well behaved and could have been Gerber's or Huggies models.

Umm...ok. You should all look forward to some extremely humiliating pictures of Jim in the near future. Check back at the end of November, after I've had some time to riffle through the hundreds of Jim photos from high school that I have stashed in my bedroom in Tallulah.

One thing that Jim forgot to point out is that he, too, is in the prom picture (re:primary colors, airplane earrings). For the record, Jim was wearing a paisley shirt and had one of the most beautiful seniors as his date (I guess she could see past the shirt). I also was with a senior, who I wasn't really that interested in, but the thrill of going to the Junior/Senior prom when I was only a Sophomore, was worth it...and the guy was really nice. Anyway, at that point, Jim and I didn't know each other. I knew who he was because he was the object of all of the Sophomore girls' affections and was in with the "cool" crowd, but I never knew that the guy my sister and I had dubbed "Highwaters" (he rolled his pants up to mid-calf...some weird Arizona fashion, I guess) and who drove the pumpkin orange Saab knew who I was. I can't remember the details of the actual prom, but one thing stands out very clearly in my mind from the prom after party. I was off in a corner avoiding my date and suddenly Highwaters appeared and said, "Wouldn't it be cool if we could do some tequila shots right now?" I think I just looked at him. I probably didn't even know what tequila was at that point in my life. I think I remember thinking, "what a dork."

A couple of months passed and I was "dating" (playing pinball, not holding hands and not kissing) a guy my mother adored because he was handsome and a merit scholar. I thought he was boring, but in a cool way and as I was meandering my way through getting out of that relationship, I received an unexpect call. It was "Jim." At first I was confused. Who is Jim? Wait Jim Highwaters??! And why was Jim Highwaters calling me? He wanted to know if I was going to So and So's party tonight and if I wanted some crawfish. My mom freaked out because she was in love with the handsome merit scholar and thought that I, at fifteen, was making a horrible mistake by ditching him to hang out with some guy in the 11th grade, but I was adventurous and just discovering my manipulative woman side, so I went to the party with one guy and completely ignored him while I ate crawfish and played asshole with Jim Highwaters.

So that's how it all began. Eventually Jim and I went to the movies (Fried Green Tomatos) and stuck gummy bears all over the car, stop signs, and movie chairs. Then we climbed some trees in the pecan grove....and then my Dad came outside in his bathrobe and glasses and Jim took off so fast I figured I would never see him again. My dad has that effect on new boyfriends.

Fortunately, he came back...and he's never been able to get over those airplane earrings.

I'm still going to post some EVIL pictures of you, Jim Avant, so don't think you're off the hook.

As promised, here are some pictures of my one and only wife back in the '90s. Can you find her? Here's a hint: She's wearing a primary yellow, blue, green, red and white shirt with....and this is the best part...WWII airplane earings. I think they're P-38s.

What can I say, she was ahead of her times.



Thus ends the cruel and unusual pictures of Claire. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before she posts the one of me wearing my Depeche Mode t-shirt and Flock of Seagulls haircut.
Bring it on.

Since I can't write as well as my wife, and I never ever will, I have elected to post pictures in the place of words. Here is a collection of random images taken over the years. And yes, several of these are revenge photos for the "cactus picture" that Claire promised she would never show to anyone. Enjoy.

Oh my, what have we here...could it be Claire in the 10th Grade? Why, yes it is!! Take note of the 4" diameter glasses (it should be noted that my glasses were approximately 2x the diamter of Claire's when this picture was taken)

Please note the red sleaves, polka-dot skirt and sailor-like collar. Stylish, indeed. (it should be said that this was about the time I fell head over heals for Claire and, yes, fashion had something to do with it.)
















Apparently, those are all the pictures I'm allowed to post in this blog. Must be a size limit or something. Anyway, my next post will be of normal photos of Claire during the '90s. Well, at least they were normal back then.....

Well, since my parents are completely lame and do NOTHING worth writing about during the week, I have decided to take over the blog to defend dogs of all shapes and sizes. This is Buster, the family dog. The ONLY dog. You should remember me, because I'm pretty sure I've bitten most of you at some point or the other.

Anyway, I'm writing because today my mom received a document from a friend which is truly, truly insulting and demeaning to all dogs. Basically it said that the only emotion that dogs have is blind happiness and excitement and that cats are full of deep and conniving thoughts. When I read it (yes, people, I CAN read...just because I can't speak your language, doesn't mean I'm illiterate. I mean, how do you think I'm typing this blog?) I was filled with rage and horror at how misunderstood, emotionally, we dogs are.

First of all, I'm sure many of you remember my early years in Houston. Contrary to the claims of the insulting document, I was neither blindly happy nor was I excited. I was nervous and scared and insecure. Why do you think I bit so many people?

Besides being a tender little thing, I also was, and still am, scheming and conniving. Although my parents have wised up in recent years and discovered that just because I have short legs, it doesn't mean I can't get up onto table tops and eat sheet cakes, I still do my fair share of getting into things. For instance, the other day I ate half a bottle of pills that were meant to help me with my joint pain. It wasn't my fault that my parents left them somewhere I could reach them, and that they tasted like treats! I walked really well for a couple of days....and then I got diarreah. Green, viscous diarreah, which I made sure to desposit in every room in the house...especially my parents' bedroom. How's that for conniving?

I have to admit that I do get excited. When my parents get home from work I AM really happy to see them, BECAUSE I HAVE TO PEE! And yes, I look longingly at them, BECAUSE I'M HUNGRY! I mean, I only get to eat one cup of food a day now and it's DIET food. Please...the only thing that I really, truly get excited about is going on walks. It's an opportunity to show everyone on the street that I'm the boss of this household. I get to drag my parents around by a string, while stimultaneously barking at all the dogs in the neighborhood, who don't have the priviledge. AND my parents PICK UP MY POOP. How is that for power?

I also feel true love. My pink pig, "Piggy," is the object of all of my true affections. I roll on him and toss him around, I rub on him, and...well, you get the picture. Without Piggy, life would be much less amourous.

So, remember people. Just because cats have big eyes and clean themselves, doesn't mean that they are the superior, more emotional race. When cats have the power to control the social lives of people, have the ability to lead humans around by a string instead of just playing with one, and figure out that leaves blown by the wind are not living objects and that the lazer pointer is just light, then we'll talk about emotions and intelligence. Until then, I'll just eat their poop.

In Fort Worth, TX, the summers are so hot that it's hard to go outside. Everything fries to a crispy brown (especially our yard...and the bushes in the back yard....we are bad, bad tenants). Walking from your office to your car is an intense and draining experience and getting into your car, after it's been sitting in the parking lot all day...torture.

That said, we welcome the fall with open arms and much enthusiasm!

North Texas has lots of state parks, so we have been exploring them. Today, we even bought a state park pass, so that we can go to the parks as much as we want AND we can bring fifteen of our friends with us. If we make sure that we visit state parks at least 15 times in the next year, we'll break even on the cost of our state park pass!

Anyway, until today, our experiences in the North Texas State parks have been pretty dismal. The first state park we went to, Lake Mineral Wells, was desert-like. It was 103 degrees outside and we had the brilliant idea to go to the park and take a bike ride. At first, we were enthusiastic, enjoying the scenery, marveling over the cacti, in awe of the coyote poop. Then, our bike trail led us into the town of Mineral Wells, which looked a lot like most towns around here--strip malls, huge pick-up trucks, lots of mullets and cowboy hats. Continuing on, we soon entered the ghetto of Mineral Wells, complete with falling down houses, chickens in the bike path, goats tied to trees in the back yards. Finally, the trail ended in urban Mineral Wells, where homeless, slightly demented looking people, were surrounding the water fountain. We chose to take a chance with our minimal water supply and headed back up the dusty trail. Moments after we stopped for sips of 100 degree water (baked by the sun), on a scenic bridge, I got a flat. We were out of water, it was 103, and we had never changed a bike tire before. But we made it back to Fort Worth safely, after taking a dip in the slightly slimey, luke-warm, and red-neck filled Lake Mineral Wells.

Our next park adventure was at Ray Roberts State Park near Denton, TX. This park is ideal for mountain bikers (which we are not), so we decided to take advantage of the mountain bike trail trail and hike it instead. Apparently, they had done some controlled burning right before we got there. Somehow, it wasn't the scenic experience we had hoped for.

So, today, when we decided, on a whim, to go to Dinosaur Valley State Park in Glen Rose, TX, we went with very low expectations. First of all, this park is called Dinosaur Valley, because there are fossils of dinosaur footprints in it and, on their webpage and all the guides, there are pictures of these huge, plaster dinosaurs. We figured it would be cheesy, but it was a beautiful day and we wanted to get out and enjoy it, so we took a risk...and it was SO worth it. The park does have giant, plaster dinosaurs, but they are there to give you an idea of the size of the dinosaurs that lived there. The first fossils they found there were of a giant plant eating dinosaur (something like the brontosaurus) being pursued by a meat eating dinosaur (something like a smaller Tyranasaurus...sorry, I'm not very good with my dinosaur names). Those fossils are now in the New York Natural History Museum. There is a beautiful, shaded river that runs through the park, and that is where we found our first dinosaur tracks. I was surprised at how excited I was and how cool it was to look down into the water and see the tracks from something that lived so long ago. It's hard to imagine North Texas, with all it's strip malls and bad traffic, being a place where dinosaurs used to live.

After the fossil viewing, we went on a hike up some bluffs and were, again, surprised at the beautiful views and the steep drop offs. There also were, as evidenced by this picture of Jim, many cacti.

We plan to continue exploring the Texas State Parks--next on our list is Colorado Bend State Park and then, our big trip in December, is Big Bend. We have to keep our food in a bear box and were warned, repeatedly, not to bring our pets unless we wanted them eaten by a bear or mountain lion or goared by a wild boar. And we were also warned, repeatedly, to make sure that our families knew where we were going, in case we didn't make it back to our campsite. Very reassuring...this will be a true test of my camping stamina and survival skills....stay tuned.

We're bloggin

Following in the footsteps of our friends Courtney and Adam, we are going to take a shot at this blog thing so that we, too, can keep everyone up to date with what we are doing. At first we thought that, because we live in Fort Worth, TX--not exactly an exciting city--we wouldn't have much of interest to say, but then we realized that we DO have a life that our friends and family might want to hear about, so here we go!!!