I Shall Call Him ... Mini G

There is a very large, golden blonde pile of fur in the X household, people. We have G____! We met him today at his foster home and we knew pretty quickly that he was a very special guy. We had some lunch and talked it over and decided to give it a whirl. So, we are officially doggy parents!

Fluffy and the Bad One are doing beautifully and G has shown zero interest in them. He already loves the backyard - including rolling in the grass ("Roll, roll, roll in ze hay") - and charmed everyone at Petco. Tomorrow we'll do our first walk and see how that one goes.

Right now he's conked out on the floor with me. He seems to be doing pretty well. We've also discovered that he is camera-shy. It might be a while before I can get pics up.

Smooches, Mrs. X and Doggie Mommy to G.

Trashy, Trashy

I have literally been in libraries since before I was born. My mother was a librarian and while I gestated for nine months, occasionally numbing her leg with a well-placed kick to the nerve, she was happy to peddle books. My maternal grandmother too was a librarian, although apparently not a particularly good speller and was thus made to promise that she would never work as a cataloguer in order to get her diploma. True story. My paternal grandmother also had a career in a library. Our family produced librarians like some produce doctors or lawyers. I even asked my mother when I was a precocious 9-year-old if I was required to become a librarian when I grew up. This was the last profession that I wanted, but I was sure that because of the family history, that it was my lot in life. Luckily, she absolved me of any requirement to be a librarian.

Just because I'm not that interested in librarianism, doesn't mean that I don't love books (or even libraries for that matter). Like with most things in life, I go through phases with reading. Some weeks I'm interested in non-fiction, others I'm into classic literature. This week's phase: trasy, trashy fiction. We all have those days when all we want to do is curl up with a trashy fiction novel and let go to the torrid affair being played out in between the pages. I didn't realize that I was in the mood for trashy fiction until I was at the library this evening and stumbled across one my favorite guilty pleasure authors: Philippa Gregory. History and soft-core porn rolled into one.

I can't wait to revisit Elizabethan England where in Ms. Gregory's version, Elizabeth did sleep with Dudley and consummated their great love. The husband and I also just finished watching the Masterpiece Theatre's "Virgin Queen", their version of Elizabeth's life, so I shouldn't have too much difficulty conjuring up the necessary costumes and finery. By the way, the young man they got to play Dudley in that version is nothing short of Walking Sex. I had to be careful not to drool all over Mr. X. Yum-my. He's apparently now tackling the role of Heathcliff, which should be extremely entertaining to watch.

Any other suggestions for truly trashy fiction? Keep in mind that I have already read the Gold Standard of Trashy Fiction, Valley of the Dolls. It doesn't get much worse than that.

image: oldtasty

Oh My G__________!

The hubby and I visited the in-laws this weekend, and while we were there I diligently checked e-mail and voice mail just in case we heard from the Dog People. Nada. This afternoon, Sweets and I were laying in bed (fully clothed people, get your minds out of the gutter!) and the phone rang. I assumed it was the in-laws calling to find out if we had gotten home, but I could tell immediately that it wasn't.

It was the Dog People.

And, that which I had lost all hope of happening, has worked out. G_______ has been matched to us!!!! Holy crapoly! Turns out, our matchmaker is kind of new to this matching thing and while she had put us in for G_________, she kind of forgot to tell us. So, the fact that he is listed as "adoption pending" is absolutely correct - our adoption pending!!!

Next step is hear from G's foster mom and go and visit the little man. If there is 'mush love' (their term) then, we get to take him home with us!

I seriously had begun to not believe in happy endings, but this definitely made me think twice.

This and That

I feel chatty, so I will recount the various goings on at the House of X. Get ready, it's pretty boring. I recommend having a pillow nearby in case you suddenly fall into a catatonic state from the sheer excitement.

I got an email last night from the Matchmaker at the Golden rescue organization which was worthy of a whoop until I read that they somehow had it in their heads that we had indicated we could not adopt a dog until July 28th. Um, nooooo. I sent a very nice email back essentially saying that wasn't us and could you please put us on the regular adoption track ASAP? They also sent some information on introducing dogs to cats. That should be an entertaining read. Although, I doubt they espouse Mr. X's idea of putting them all together in a steel cage match where only the winner emerges victoriously. Yes, he was kidding.

My parents are climbing the Swiss Alps. They called me yesterday to complain about a) how tired they were, b) how sore they were, c) how freakin' tired they were and d) how they didn't think they could do four more days of torture. I was a little incredulous since they had signed up voluntarily and I asked my dad if he really was secretly expecting an escalator, to which he feebly responded, "well, yeah." Oy. They both kept mentioning how many rocks there were. Well, duh!

I went to Bunco last night and thankfully, did not come home with Pinkey. In fact, I came home with $8 and had two ice cold Dos Equis to boot. Not a bad haul for a night spent throwing around little plastic dice and dishing about the neighborhood gossip.

Speaking of neighborhood gossip, I don't know how much longer I can handle being on the Board of Directors of our little home owners association. Our neighborhood is being torn asunder and divided into two camps: those who want speed bumps and those who do not. Oh, the horror! Seriously, people, we spent at least an hour debating this issue at the general meeting last year. Snore. Obviously, we live in an affluent community because the topic of greatest concern is whether to stick asphalt bumps on the road in an (ineffective) effort to control traffic speeds.

I have been listening to iTunes radio today - switching between the R 'n B channels and classical. Yes, I have very eclectic taste. It reminds me of the Old School station I listened to in the town where we lived. I loved that station and our current city has squat. So, iTunes it is for my fix. I also have access to XM Radio online, but their R n' B stations just aren't cutting it for me. Now, their alternative stations - that's another story entirely.

Our latest Netflix arrived in the mail. We've been Netflix subscribers since 2005 and we love it. Netflix was the only way in which I was able to watch all three seasons of Grey's Anatomy in one summer just in time to catch up to the fourth season - and just in time for the writers' strike! Recently, we watched the first season of the Tudors and both agreed that while it was extremely entertaining, Jonathan Rhys-Meyers was no Henry VIII. The chicken legs are the first dead giveaway as is the whisp of an Irish accent and don't even get me started on the lack of red hair! But, Sam Neill was fabulous. We are also making our way through the Sharpe's series starring - wait for it - Sean Bean! Mr. X and I have been having a grand time watching these gems of 90s production values and bodice-ripping. And, of course, my weekly Sean Bean dose, fully endorsed and encouraged by Mr. X.

That's all the news that's fit to print for now. Scintillating as always.

Show & Tell: On the Walls in Paris

I'm a newbie to Show and Tell, but there's no time like the present. So, here's my first installment.

Parisians love their animals, perhaps more than their children. I saw some of the most well-behaved dogs in Paris that I have ever seen - all off the leash, but completely under control. The children should have been so well-trained! I found this love of animals in the street art and posters. Here are two of my faves:


I love this jaunty little spray-painted kitty. He even has little paw pads! I just think it's wonderful. So kitty-esque.


I imagine this kitty is thinking, dude, I am so going to kill you when you put me down. That tongue? I'm licking my chops for dinner of YOU. And the pooch, so cute. I think the translation is: Come Adopt! Doors Open All Day May 17 - 18.
___________________________________________________________________

In other news, I was distressed - but not surprised - to see that G_____ has an adoption pending (and it's not with us. We haven't even heard from the matchmaker yet). The important thing is he is getting a good forever home. Our dog will come!

For the Love of a Child

I had what I considered to be a pretty unremarkable childhood and upbringing. I was an only child not because of infertility but because my parents decided that they could give the best life to one child as opposed to two or three. I didn't quibble with this decision, even when I was young. Every so often, my father would ask if I wanted a brother or sister. One memorable answer put an end to the questions: "What? And have to share?!"

I was given lots of opportunities for self-discovery - ballet, horseback riding, art lessons, swimming lessons at the Y - pretty much anything I was interested in, I was allowed to pursue with vigour and support. My father was raised in a much different household and had to defend these expenditures to my grandmother who said that I needed some type of job - chores, whatever. To which my father replied, "Her job is learning." Lucky for him, I love to learn.

They listened at dinner when I regaled them with tales of my days in middle school science learning about Trouble in the Alimentary Canal. I just assumed that this was what all parents did with their children. It wasn't until years later that I realized that not many people want to hear about trouble in the alimentary canal as they are eating dinner. But, they never complained.

In high school, they cheered me on as I ran track - however improbable it was to go from flute recitals to track meets. My mother weeped when I was named salutatorian of my graduating class in a suspense-filled graduation ceremony since four of us were so close in grades, they couldn't tell until the very end. I had no limits on the number of colleges I could apply to or where I could go. They had made me a promise that I could go to school wherever I wanted - I had no idea then what an incredible gift this was. I certainly know now.

Even when we started to try to have a child, it did not dawn on me what a sustained effort my parents made to raise me to be a successful, productive member of society. I was reminded, though, when I was watching Spellbound this evening. I saw my parents over and over again in the parents who invested so much energy and hope in their children - not in the creepy-my-child-is-destined-for-Hollywood-way - but in the I-am-so-proud-of-my-child-that-it-makes-me-cry way. I've seen them give me that look and I didn't realize what a gift it was back then.

Their support didn't stop once I left home - it was just given over the phone and through email. They are looking to move here to be near myself and Mr. X. Hopefully, there will be a new generation for them to be proud of because my days of flute recitals are long, long gone.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me a Match!

We survived the home interview on Sunday! Sweetie and I were all scrubbed and clean, the house was in good order and the back yard looked inviting with lots and lots of grass (and of course, a secure fence). The interviewer showed up with her GINORMOUS Golden M___, who I swear was at least 1/2 fur.

M___ was very excited to meet us but the minute she caught sight of the kitties tried to hide behind her mommy. Apparently M_____ had been chased by a Persian earlier in her canine life and had a real fear of cats. Fluffy stuck around for a tentative sniff, all the while doing the Arched Cat Back of Warning. The Bad One, on the other hand, promptly decamped from the living room for the kitchen where he immediately got up on top of the cabinets. He was having nothing to do with the dog.

Sending M's discomfort, her mom suggested we go out back to inspect the fence. It was a pretty easy process and our fence passed with flying colors. M___ just kind of sniffed around and stuck with us.

We headed back inside to sit down for a chat and went over some of the same ground that I had gone through in the application and the phone interview. She also did a very good grooming demonstration. It was very helpful. Then, with M____ literally pulling her out the door, the interview was over.

Now, we wait to hear from The Matchmaker. There is one pooch G____ who I have seen on their website and have simply fallen in love with. I sent the link to my dad and he wants to adopt G_____ now too! Unfortunately for him, I saw him first. I have no idea when we will hear from the Matchmaker - or even if they will mention G___ for us.

But, another step down!

Scenes in Paris: Jardin des Plantes

After we landed, we made it to our Parisian pied-a-terre around 10:30 in the morning to find that there was no electricity, no juice, no nothing. We called the apartment managers who found out that the electric company (EDF) had inexplicably turned off the power the day before. "It's France!" she told me. So it was.

This little situation didn't get resolved until about 4pm that afternoon, but we had used the time to nap and decompress after the long flight. There's nothing like trying to sleep in steerage to make you truly appreciate an actual bed! Once it all got fixed, we headed out to enjoy the rest of the day, such as it was.

We headed to the Jardin des Plantes (Garden of Plants - so original!) for a stroll and some late touristing. We timed our visit perfectly since it was May and all of the flowers were blooming, including roses as large as my fist. And they smelled heavenly. Yes, I stopped and smelled lots and lots of roses.

There were actually multiple gardens, within gardens, some next to the Museum of Natural History and some next to the zoo on the other side of the main garden.

We strolled and just took in the beautiful flowers which were everywhere. At one point, though, we heard the strangest animal sound. We each thought it sounded like a Kookaburra, a native Australian bird whose call sounds like a laugh. We were near the zoo, so we figured they probably had some. Weirdly, enough, though, we were walking away from the zoo and the noise got louder. We came upon a shallow water feature with a bunch of people standing around. I heard the noise again and everyone pointed at the water. There was no Kookaburra, there was a GINORMOUS FROG making that noise. It was so cool! And, the little guy was actually really cute. (No, I didn't kiss it.)

What was wonderful as well was how many people were there just reading and relaxing on the grass, as if it wasn't a Friday night and time had just stopped. It was very peaceful and pleasant. The perfect ending to our first day.

Some major highlight pictures:

Fire and Ice!

The fabulous carousel with strange (and possibly extinct) creatures.

Giant irises!

On to the Home Visit!

Despite my current funk, I am a wee bit excited that we have apparently passed the phone interview because I got an email yesterday to set up our home visit! I'm having whiplash this is going so quickly.

So, Sunday the home front will be visited by a volunteer with the rescue organization with her Golden in tow to inspect the premises. There will be a fence inspection to see if enterprising dogs can get out of the enclosure (we have a 6-foot wooden fence around the whole backyard) and there is also a grooming demonstration. Don't quite know what that will entail!

I think I will keep the kitties locked away for the visit to keep the hissing and swatting at a minimum.

How Much is the Doggy in the Interview?

I survived the phone interview on Friday for the Golden rescue group! It was about an hour and covered a lot of the ground that I had answered in the application. The main topic of conversation was the kind of temperment that we want in a Golden and how we plan to introduce a dog into the Kitty Domain that is our home. As it is, Fluffy and the Bad One reign supreme over their 2500 square feet. How will they react to a pooch invading their territory?

They are not without experience on this one. A few years ago, we hosted Sweetie's parents' dogs for a month while his parents were traveling out of the country. Granted these were two mutts who collectively weighed about 40 lbs, but after the first few days (and swats), a detente was established. They have been exposed to larger dogs, but only for short periods of time and usually weren't particularly happy about it.

The key is to get a Golden who has a low prey drive or that is completely uninterested in cats so that the kitties don't spend too much of their day being chased around the house by a large slobbering dog. The kitties do chase each other around the house, but that's different than being pursued by a dog!

We also talked about how I work from home so it is really important to get a dog who doesn't bark too much. Sweetie also isn't too fond of loud dogs so that was another reason behind that one.

Really the hardest part of the interview came with a question I hadn't been anticipating (but totally should have seen coming): how are you going to discipline the dog? I thought about it for minute - and totally thought back to all of the episodes of It's Me or the Dog I had watched - and answered that most behaviors that we consider "bad", like peeing in the house, usually have some reason behind them, so I would find out what that reason was and try to fix the underlying problem. After that I drew a blank - what was she looking for? I asked her if she could give me an example and she basically said that they were looking to see if I was someone who would use negative reinforcement rather than positive reinforcement. I answered most definitely that I would do positive reinforcement!

We also talked about how taking the dog to obedience training would help cut down on unwanted behavior. She asked if I would be willing to take the dog to training and I said absolutely. It is as much about training the dog as it is about training me since I've never had a dog before (no, not even when I was a kid - my first pets in my life are the beasties we have now). It will be a learning adventure for us both! And, I think it would be a lot of fun.

After the interview, I also had a good talk with Sweetie. I've been driving this particular train and I wanted to make sure he was still on board. I was very adamant that once we get to meet the dogs, he would have to agree to get one or else it is a no-go. This is a decision that we are both going to have to live with, so we both need to make it. He was ok with that, so I feel good that we are on the same page.

So, we once again wait. Although, this time I'm not nearly as impatient. We've got the process started and that's good for now. We will either hear back very soon or not for a while. We will hear back very soon from the adoption coordinator if there are "issues" with our application. Otherwise, we won't hear anything for a few weeks when we hear from a volunteer to set up a home visit. So far, we haven't heard anything - no news is good news!
image: Valley Vistas