Monday, December 28, 2009

Christmas Vacation

I hope everyone had a successful holiday, whatever it is you celebrate.

The Gator Girl started the holidays off early when she decided to break into the gifts I had wrapped for the other dogs in our life and pick through them for the stuff she'd rather not give away. She stole tennis balls from Sonny and Piper and completely took (and hid) Mindy the Rat Terrier's present. Mindy had a box of milkbones and a stuffed cat toy. I didn't realize it was missing until Christmas morning when Mindy didn't have a present under the tree from us.

Still haven't found it.

In addition to her criminal activities, the Gator Girl seemed damn determined to land herself in the emergency vet's clinic. On Wednesday, she busted her way into a box I had been sure was gator proof (Note to self: nothing is ever gator proof.) and helped herself to a cookie tree present my godchildren had made for both her and Big. It was three milkbone biscuits tied with ribbons and glued to a construction paper tree. It was cute. And when I wasn't looking, it ended up (ribbons and all) in the Gator Girl's stomach. Now we're on poop patrol. Nothing says 'Merry Christmas' like having to dig through piles of dog shit to locate ribbons.

The ribbons, by the way, are still MIA.

Then, Christmas morning, in her rush to get out of the house and into the car (she's always concerned we're going to leave without her), she slipped on the ice and hurt her back leg. The Gator Girl doesn't often feel pain. Or, at least, she doesn't show that she feels pain. A few times, she's cut her pads while playing ball, but she's so focused on playing ball that she doesn't act hurt and you don't know anything's wrong until you notice the bloody footprints all over your once white rug. After her fall on the ice, she wouldn't put any weight on her back leg. It still didn't stop her and her one track mind from running to the car because she was still worried about being left behind.

She seems better now. Right now, she's amusing herself by running around the house, trying to find things to get into to, things that will make me get up from this desk so I can go and steal back whatever she's taken.

So yeah, we had a good holiday. We had some good laughs with both sides of the family and ate entirely too much food. We were sent home with a ton of sweets with which I am now gorging myself and I spent yesterday on the couch watching my new Alias DVDs, the Incredible Dog Challenge (Yea, diving dog Malinois champion!) and Patriots football (Yea, AFC East Champs!!!).

But today it is back to work. However, Joe is on vacation this week.

I am not. Not really.

Of course, I'm not actually leaving the house (much) to work (although I have to work a whole eight hours at the store this week...spread across two days, of course). I'm sitting at my desk in my office, trying to write a couple of scenes I've had stuck in my head for a few days now. The holidays robbed me of time to write them down properly so I scribbled some notes and swore to get back to it as soon as I could.

And that's today. Or at least I hope it will be today.

But Joe's on vacation and he doesn't know what to do with himself when he's on vacation and at home, so he spends his time wandering around the house and periodically coming into my office to see what I'm doing.

"Whatcha doing?" he asks nearly every time.

"Working," I say. I am nice enough not to say "wishing you were working today."

Sometimes he comes in and sits on the daybed and watches me type. Which I find to be highly annoying. But he generally doesn't stay long. He just pops in to interrupt my train of thought, pat the dogs (because they both hang out in the office with me, even if Joe's home), ask some asinine question and then go back to the living room.

"Why is there white stuff falling from the sky?" was the latest question.

"Because we live in New England and that's what happens in December?" I ask.

Granted, yesterday it was forty degrees and it rained all day. But today it's much colder and we're due to get about five inches of snow. What's that old saying about New England? If you don't like the weather, just wait five minutes?

It's a saying for a reason.

He's on the phone right now. Dollars to donuts, it's the office. That's another of Joe's vacation traditions. Spend lots of time on the phone with work helping them fix things that went wrong. When we were in Las Vegas last June, he got a couple of phone calls at 4am, Vegas time, from the office. I was particularly less than thrilled by those calls because we'd only gone to bed a couple hours earlier.

But hey, at least now he has something to do.

Happy New Year's, everyone.

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