I saw this meme on another blog, and I thought I’d “borrow” it. Life is a bit complicated right now, and I keep starting and stopping posts. This is a good distraction as well as a nice exercise in simplicity.

1. Where is your mobile phone?
Car

2. Relationship?
Solid

3. Your hair?
Dry

4. Work?
Seeking!

5. Your sister(s)?
Non-existent

6. Your favorite thing?
Laughter

7. Your dream last night?
Nightmare

8. Your favorite drink?
Margarita

9. Your dream car?
Unaffordable

10. The room you’re in?
Messy

11. Your shoes?
Numerous

12. Your fears?
Crippling

13. What do you want to be in 10 years?
Content

14. Who did you hang out with this weekend?
Family

15. What are you not good at?
Waiting

16. Muffin?
Corn

17. Wish list item?
Books!

18. Where you grew up?
California

19. The last thing you did?
Eat

20. What are you wearing?
Shorts

21. What are you not wearing?
Shoes

22. Your pet?
Which?

23. Your computer?
Mac

24. Your life?
Complicated

25. Your mood?
Angsty

26. Missing?
Sanity

27. What are you thinking about?
Chocolate

28. Your car?
Awesome!

29. Your kitchen?
Disastrous

30. Your summer?
Fleeting

31. Your favorite color?
Orange

32. Last time you laughed?
Forgot

33. Last time you cried?
Today

34. School?
Soon

35. Love?
Yes

I’m tagging everyone who reads this!

Here’s a totally random quiz I found on another blog I read. This is my PersonalDNA map:

Basically, I spent 20 minutes answering 11 pages of questions that told me I’m outgoing and social, I care about aesthetics, and I have poor self-esteem and worry too much about what others think of me. Shocking indeed! However, it told me this in a new and interesting format, so I thought I’d share it with the rest of you.

In other news, I have a job interview tomorrow that seems somewhat promising, though I hate to jinx it. I’m feeling a great deal of pressure to get a job, though I’m not sure why. I think I’m freaking out over the idea of not having that extra income, but I’m also worried about what I’ll do with myself if I’m not teaching.

When I was a full-time mom, I defined myself by being a great mom. When I was teaching, I derived a huge portion of my identity from being an excellent teacher. If I am not working this fall, I’m not sure who, or what, I will be. Wouldn’t life be great if there was a pill you could take for self-esteem deficits? That is the one thing no amount of therapy or anti-depressants seems to have helped me conquer.

I am recovering from some minor, elective surgery, and I’m bored out of my mind. Daytime TV stinks - what’s the point of having 300 channels if there’s never anything worthwhile to watch? I’ve settled on an episode of NCIS I Tivo’d (which I’ve already seen) while I amuse myself with Blogthings. Enjoy!

You Are a Cappuccino

You’re fun, outgoing, and you love to try anything new. However, you tend to have strong opinions on what you like. You are a total girly girly at heart - and prefer your coffee with good conversation. You’re the type that seems complex to outsiders, but in reality, you are easy to please

I always thought I was a latte, but the description is pretty accurate. On to the next:

You Are Sheryl Crow!

Down to earth with tons of creative energy When you talk, everyone can relate to you “Life springs eternal On a gaudy neon street Not that I care at all”

Ha ha…ha…ha ha ha…no, really. I was hoping for Pink. Next:

Your Inner Pop Princess Is Kelly Clarkson

“Grew up in a small town And when the rain would fall down I’d just stare out my window Dreaming of what could be” No doubt about it, you have star quality. Might just take a while to get there.

I would have characterized her as a rock chick. Oh well…

Your Stress Level is: 66%

You are prone to stress, and you’re probably even pretty stressed right now. Life’s problems seem to pile up on you, and this often makes you feel depressed and burned out. Learn to take time to relax and enjoy life, even if things are stressful. It’s the only way you’ll get through the bad times.

Only 66%? Hey, the meds must be working!

You Are Pretty Logical

You’re a bit of a wizard when it comes to logic While you don’t have perfect logic, you logic is pretty darn good Keep at it - you’ve got a lot of natural talent in this area!

Does this mean I could be a Vulcan, or is that highly illogical? Last one…

You Are a Good Friend Because You’re Loyal

You stick with your friends no matter what, even if you feel like they’re doing the wrong thing. You believe in letting people figure out their own path in life. It’s not your place to interfere. And part of your loyalty means that you’ll do a lot for your friends. You definitely go the extra mile. You’ll even do great things for friends without them asking. After all, that’s what friendship is all about. You are truly a friend for life. And you have friends you’ve known since you were a kid. Your friends can count on you to do a favor, remember a birthday, or just be there to listen. Your friends need you most when: They can’t turn to anyone else You really can’t be friends with: Fickle people who change friends quickly Your friendship quote: “Friendship doubles your joys, and divides your sorrows.”

Awww…yay me!

I just hung up on the wrongly-named “Apple Care” after being on hold for over 15 minutes (I am NOT a patient woman). I have a simple, stupid, easy question - one that, a brief Googling tells me, others have as well. I want to know why Photo Booth gives me the following message every time I attempt to launch it:

Photo Booth cannot open because no camera is attached or the camera is in use by another application.

The camera is BUILT IN to the computer, people, so it is, in fact, attached. Further, if it were in use by another application, the little green light at the top of my screen would be on. No light; no camera.

You can see my dilemma.

One cyberdude suggested I download an updated version of Photo Booth - something I am supposed to be able to do automatically through my handy “Software Update” feature. Apparently, Apple forgot to include this one in their updates.

Oops.

I dl’d the update. It didn’t work.

I’m annoyed (but aren’t I hiding it well?). I want to take a #@%&ing picture!! Is that too much to ask? I don’t want to wait in the hold queue when this is CLEARLY an Apple problem that Apple should be aware of and Apple should fix.

That said, I do need to keep some perspective here. After all, the worst day as an Apple user is STILL better than the best day as a PC user.

BTW, if any of you know of a fix for this, please let me know!

As you can see, we haven’t migrated servers yet, so I guess I’ll keep posting here until:
(a) we move this blog
(b) the current host deletes me
(c) I run out of things to snark about*

In the interim, here are the results of a random, poorly written, and grammatically painful quiz I just took. Prepare to be shocked:

Your Political Profile:

Overall: 65% Conservative, 35% Liberal Social Issues: 75% Conservative, 25% Liberal Personal Responsibility: 75% Conservative, 25% Liberal Fiscal Issues: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal Ethics: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal Defense and Crime: 100% Conservative, 0% Liberal

*like THAT would ever happen!

Yes, I’m back. However, sometime in the very near future, we need to migrate this blog to a new server. The url will stay the same, since I own the domain name, but the blog might disappear for a couple of days while we get settled in our new digs. Since we’re moving, I may go ahead and do a redesign. I have a new template picked out; I just need to customize it.

All of this is to say that I don’t want you to be alarmed if I disappear again, however briefly. I appreciate the kind comments, and it’s nice to know I’ve been missed. I’m here, and I’ll have something more interesting to say next time. Stay tuned…

Well, Kids, it’s been a rather looooooong winter here at Casa del D’oh, but there’s a slight possibility spring may be on its way at last.

As you could tell from the tone of my last several posts (lo those NINE long months ago), I was depressed. At that point, I started to feel like all I was ever posting about was how sad and gloomy and whiny and miserable I was, and really, who wants to read about that all the time? I thought it would be best if I took a short break from blogging until I got my act together, figured out the right combination of meds to get me through the day, and started feeling like myself again.

NINE MONTHS LATER, that might, perhaps (let’s all keep our fingers crossed now, shall we?) be finally happening.

And does this little flickering ray of hope have ANYTHING to do with the fact that there are a mere 25 school days left until summer vacation? My friends, is the Pope Catholic?

You see, what I have come to discover, through a great deal of pain and strife, is that my job has been slowly and methodically killing me. While it is not the source of my sickness, it is the swirling vortex of malignant microbes that constantly plagues me, ensuring that I will never have the opportunity to get well. Does that sound melodramatic? Consider that my doctor insisted I take a leave of absence for my mental and physical health shortly before the holidays, that she did everything but have me committed to try to keep me from going back after the break, and that she continues to insist I leave my building as soon as possible for my personal well-being.

No joke.

There are stories I could tell you that would curl your hair. And I will…someday. But for now, I will wait. I will continue to protect my students to the best of my ability, and I will bide my time until I am ensured of another job in another building. And then? I will tell my stories, ALL of my stories, to you and to those people in my community and my district who have the power to stop the sickness once and for all. I WILL get better, and I WON’T let them win.

I’m back. Did ya miss me?

I have a new guilty pleasure, and it is Snakes on a Plane. This movie is totally hilariously awesomely eye-rollingly entertaining. It’s got the cheesy one-liners everyone will be quoting, the “tell me the snake did NOT just bite him there” gross-out scenes, the requisite character who’s such a jerk you want him to die, the pop culture references, the sappy love stories, the frightening kids-in-peril storyline, the hero who steps up, the ambiguously gay flight attendant, and a WHOLE lot of snakes.

I will be the first to admit that I had to cover my eyes during a couple of the more disgusting parts. While I have no problem with snakes, I tend to get squeamish when they are attached to various and sundry human body parts. Let me also warn some of my more sensitive readers that there is some nudity and quite a bit of language. That said, the movie experience was greatly enhanced by the entire audience reciting Samuel L. Jackson’s internet-inspired tagline along with him. While we saw this at a 6:30 show that was only half full, I’m told the packed audiences at the 10 p.m. sneak previews made the whole experience that much more fun. If you’re going to see this, plan to go at night when the theater is more likely to be full; it sounds like it will be quite a party!

17 years ago today, my mother died by her own hand. They say this type of loss gets easier with time. They say there are Five Stages of Grief (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Grief, and Acceptance), and if you haven’t resolved your feelings, you may be stuck in the process. They, of course, are full of shit. The fact is, a loss as primal as that of a mother NEVER gets easier, and you never “get over” it.

In my case, given the unpleasant circumstances (suicide, undiagnosed and untreated mental illness, the fact that *I* found her), it’s just that much more complicated. This year, with my own mental illness pinging at 11, I’m struggling more than usual. Oh, and just to throw a bit more angst into the mix, allow me to share that I’m at my dad’s right now.

*Sigh*

17 years.

When Genius Grrl started having difficulties this summer, one of the first things we decided to do was to schedule some additional time for her with her psychiatrist for “talk” therapy. Usually, she goes in every couple of months for monitoring (more frequently if her meds are being adjusted), and that’s that. However, with all the anxiety-related brou-ha-ha of the past couple months, we thought she might beneft from a little extra “couch” time, as it were.

Unfortunately, she seems to be having the same trouble articulating the cause of her anxiety to the doctor that she’s been having explaining it to us. This wouldn’t be so bad, but at $150 an hour, I’d like to see a little progress, you know? The doctor and I have spoken, and we both agree she’s too mature for play therapy at this point. I suggested they try art therapy, and I saw something last night at dinner that convinces me I may be on to something.

We went to one of those chain restaurants with oh-so-authentic ambience (in other words, the kind that tries too hard) and a kids’ menu. This place covers the tables with large sheets of butcher paper so that you can color on the entire space - or I could have, had my children been generous enough to share their crayons…but I digress. The Diva began to make little hearts and such, and the D’oh Boy, who is far too cool and teenagerish to color, scowled at his Nintendo DS, while Genius Grrl began to draw cats. This was not terribly unusual, as she has become quite attached to her kitten. It was when she began to focus her drawings around one cat in particular that things got a bit…odd. First, she drew a thought bubble over the cat’s head. Then, she drew a syringe in the bubble. I should stop here and say that she just got her Tdap booster, so it wasn’t as if the kitty was a heroin junkie jonesing for a fix. Even so, disturbing, yes? Next, she drew a dark cloud with lightning over the cat. Finally, she drew a bandaid next to the cat. At that point, she saw us looking at the picture, so she wrote, “STOP LOOKING AT MY PICTURE.” Then, our food came, and her dinner covered the picture.

I told Mr. D’oh that we should have torn off that piece of the paper and taken it to her next appointment. If I had been thinking at all, I would have taken a picture with my camera phone. However, I will certainly tell the doctor what I saw, and I will strongly suggest she try some art therapy at their next appointment. I may even provide the paper and colored pencils.

For $150 and hour, I should at least get something interesting to hang on the fridge.

My Dog (the Labradorable, aka “the Fluppy”) has many toys. She’s a chewer, this one, so she needs a lot of toys. She can devour an entire rawhide bone in an afternoon, which is why she has the most beautiful teeth you’ve ever seen. She can also gut a stuffed toy in about five minutes flat. She even chewed apart one of those supposedly indestructible Kongs. Perhaps we should have named her Jaws or Fang or Killer; I’m just glad she uses her teeth on her toys (and an occasional pair of flip flops the kids neglect to put away) and not on us!

After she destroyed her last chewman toy, we decided to get her something different. Since one of the girls is a frog lover and the other has a soft spot for pigs, we had limited options. We finally found a cute little duck toy that makes a silly quacking sound when you press on it. We figured it would last a few days and that would be the end of it.

Well, we were wrong.

Apparently, the doggie really likes her duckie. She carries it around with her, she licks it, she occasionally sleeps with it in her paws, and she growls at the other dog when she sniffs around at it. Once, in a moment of puppyness, she chewed off one of its feet, but she immediately felt remorseful, and she has been licking the other foot to make up for it ever since. Here’s the really funny part, though - she’s afraid of the quacking sound. Whenever she accidentally pushes it, she turns away with this guilty, pained look on her face until it stops. It’s too funny.

Meanwhile, she found the D’oh Boy’s old Pikachu in a give-away pile the other day, and she pulled out its eyeballs in about 2.5 seconds. Apparently, Pikachu is NO duckie.

ETA… This really has little to do with the above post, but it made me think of my dog gutting the heck out of all her stuffed toys and I had to question the wisdom of having a dog guarding a collection of what, in his eyes, amounts to a big pile of dog toys. Not the brightest idea in the world - that’s for sure!

The other night, when we finally got Genius Grrl off to bed (her own bed, that is), I casually mentioned to Mr. D’oh how very much I was looking forward to seeing this movie, at which point he looked at me as if I had suddently sprouted a second head and said, “You ARE?” Frankly, his incredulousness shocked me. Given the fact that this man works at Internet Central, I’m surprised he and his colleagues haven’t been geeking out over the whole thing themselves.

I mean, what’s not to love? You have Snakes! On a motherf*ckin’ Plane! With Samuel L. Jackson! How cool is that?!?!? Unless, of course, you have Ophidiophobia and/or Aviophbia, in which case there is a WHOLE LOT not to love. Barring any potentially traumatic and psychologically paralyzing phobias, however, this looks too hilariously over the top to miss.

What do you think? Is anyone else planning to see this?

In two short weeks, I will be taking the kids to The Happiest Place on Earth as the grand finale to our annual pilgrimage to visit the familia.

“Hey, Jane - you’ve just survived another visit with your dad and stepmother. What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to Disneyland!”

When I booked the tickets, I put in all our info and paid w/Mr. D’oh’s credit card. I suppose it would have been easier to use my card, but it was late at night and I was too lazy to go downstairs and get my wallet. Sue me. Had I but known that their stupid computer would screw up the paperwork, I would have gladly hauled my cookies to the garage to get my card, but, alas, I did not.

Well, wouldn’t you know that my tickets showed up today, and they issued the travel documents in my husband’s name instead of mine. The assured me that this could be corrected and the documents re-issued, and they would only charge me HALF of the $50 fee.

Excuse me?

I calmly explained that I had filled out all the forms correctly, so the error was in their site. Silly me - I did not realize their Terms and Conditions clearly states that the person whose name is on the credit card is listed as the primary party on the travel documents.

Stop right there. Do you mean to tell me that people are actually supposed to READ those things? Come on, guys - everyone knows that’s just the gobledy gook your lawyers put in there to cover your bums. “The party of the first part acknowledges receipt of said information from the party of the second part yadda yadda yadda…” You would have to pay ME $50 to read through all that crap.

The point is that there was NO WAY I was going to pay for them to make ONE stupid change on ONE stupid document and re-print the paper. Perhaps they can pull that crap with the nice family from Mayberry who booked their trip on their Commodore 64 using dial-up (sure, it took them 17 hours to do it, but they’re going to Disneyland, by golly!), but it doesn’t fly around here. Besides, if those vultures had half a brain, then they would have taken a second to page through my travel history on the screen in front of them and the ridiculous amount of money my family has dropped at ye olde Magic Kingdom over the years to see the idiocy of arguing over that fee with me.

Clearly, I am really ticked off. I may have to pursue this further. I’ll let you know.

Today, I took my dog in for a clip. This is the dog we adopted last summer when our beloved puggy went to that giant dog house in the sky. When we got her, they had named her “Shyla” because she was, well, shy. I thought that was a pretty stupid name, so it didn’t keep. At the time, they told us she was most likely a Flat-coated Retriever mix. While I can see where they would use this particular breed as a jumping off point, to me, she looked more like the offspring of a Newfie who’d had a torrid affair with a Border Collie, but what do I know? My best guess was that we had found a very tame, very sweet Sasquatch, and we were lucky that she had chosen us as her family.

Well today, my friends, the mystery has been solved! I have now been able to identify the breed of my doggie beyond a shadow of a doubt. What’s more, I believe she is actually a heretofore undiscovered breed which I will be attempting to register with the AKC posthaste! My dog, you see, is none other than the world’s first Labradorable! You almost have to pity the poor schmuck who thoughtlessly tossed her aside…

Almost.

The Grrl Genius is still not sleeping, which means, for the first time in 15 years of marriage, we are questioning the adequacy of our queen-sized bed. Suddenly, a California King is looking quite appealing, what with the child AND the dog sharing our space (did I forget to mention the fact that the dog sleeps with us every night?). We actually do fine once we transfer GG to her own bed, but the period of time it takes for her to actually fall asleep is rather crowded and uncomfortable, to say the least.

This morning, she awakened with an uncomfortable “cramp” in her side. Apparently, this cramp is painful enough that it will prevent her from attending church (which means I will have to stay home) but not so painful as to prevent her from making her way to the basement to watch television.

Sigh.

Galatians 5:22-23 says, “…the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control…” All that I need and nothing I have at the moment. I guess the upside to all of this is that, when you hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up.

Thank you for your kind words. I’m sorry to comment-whore over such a touchy subject, and please rest assured that I’m not keeping some kind of tally sheet over here at Casa del D’oh in which I much have a certain amount of feedback or I will commit myself. Still, it’s nice to know someone is out there…

One of the big stressors in my life at the moment is my darling daughter, the Grrl Genius (not to be confused with the Diva). I realized I’ve used many nicknames for my kids in this blog, and I’m sorry for the confusion. The truth is, I cannot remember what I’ve called them in the past, and I’m too darn lazy to go back through the archives to look it up! The Grrl Genius is my middle child. This is the overachiever, the competitive child; She Who Must Succeed At Everything. This is the child who got all of my husband’s spatial and mathematical intelligence and all of my verbal intelligence. She is who *I* want to be when I grow up.

Sadly, she also inherited a not-so-healthy amount of mental illness from both sides of our family. This first reared its ugly but manageable head a couple years ago in the form of a mild anxiety disorder. Now that she’s on the verge of puberty, it has grown the razor-sharp claws and vile, raptor-like fangs of a full-blown mood disorder that may or may not be bi-polar. In our latest go-round, she is experiencing such an accute bout of separation anxiety that she cannot fall asleep at night unless she is in the physical presence of the object of her obsession attachment. For those of you playing along at home, that would be me. In other words, unless she is IN MY ROOM, IN MY BED, LYING NEXT TO ME, she will literally become hysterical, wracked with sobs, and will be inconsolable. The longer this goes on, the longer it takes her to calm down. Last night, I went into my bathroom to brush my teeth, and in the FIVE MINUTES I was gone, she began to sob because, “I couldn’t see you.” We are talking about a child who is eleven. She has no idea why this is happening or what is causing it.

As you can imagine, this is doing nothing to improve my current emotional state. Her doctor has informed us that, if she cannot stabilize her on her current medication, she will have to switch her to a medication that will require weekly blood testing to monitor the dosage. Our insurance will not cover this. Again, not helping me. I am having dinner with friends tonight. I have to be home by 9 so that my daughter can go to bed (in MY bed). Not helping. I am 36 years old, and I have a curfew. I am feeling completely and totally trapped, and it’s not a good feeling. I’m also feeling totally helpless, because I can’t help but wonder what I did to make this child feel so insecure in the first place (even though I know it’s not my fault - maternal guilt is a POWERFUL thing).

For now, I guess I just need to focus on getting through one day at a time. It’s all I really can do.

My host decided to upgrade the server and install some fancy new bells and whistles…which promptly broke my site. Niiiiice.

Thanks to the heroic efforts of Mr. D’oh, I am back in business…for now, anyway.

But here’s the thing. I am not really doing so well at the moment. Physically, I’m OK. Yes, the whole “traffic” incident has been a bit of a bummer, but I am dealing. Emotionally, however, I’m kind of falling apart. I had a post up a week or two ago that dealt with this very topic. I wrote, rather candidly, about my fragile mental state and my fears that I might have to check myself in to a hospital for a few days to get my medications sorted out and get things stabilized.

The reponse to that post was, in a word, non-existent. Which means one of two things. Either no one is really reading this (which is OK, because I’m not really writing this for anyone else), or that particular subject makes people uncomfortable (well, duh!). Either way, it’s where I’m at for the foreseeable future, and I can’t really see the point to faking sunshine and roses here when I can barely fake it for my kids in real life.

So, if I maintain this blog (which is a big “if”), it will be a bumpy ride. If you’re looking for puppies and kitties, you might want to go here instead.

Actually, this kind of bummed me out a bit. I thought I’d score higher!

I’m having a bit of a delicate situation these days. It involves certain bodily systems (mine) and their inability to function as they are supposed to do. And while I have absolutely no problem entertaining a room full of complete strangers with graphic tales of the labor and delivery of each of my three offspring (complete with the color and consistency of the various and sundry fluids involved), I cannot seem to bring myself to speak quite so openly about issues pertaining to the other orifice.

So, if you are looking for a frank and open discussion on poop, you’ve come to the wrong place. However, if you’re in the mood for an extended metaphor, then please…read on!

What we are dealing with here is an unfortunate and ongoing traffic jam. Approximately two to three weeks ago, a rather large vehicle appears to have broken down in the center of the highway. As the breakdown occured in a place of zero visibility, it is unclear what type of vehicle this is or what caused the breakdown. All we know for certain is that the flow of traffic is clearly impeded. We have sent various officials in to help restore the traffic patterns to normal, both in front of and in back of the stalled vehicle, but they were only able to allow a few cars around the stall.

In a desperate attempt to restore traffic to normal, until more cars exit the highway, I shall only allow one car per day to enter the highway. All minivans and station wagons are being turned away, and only sports cars and compact cars are being allowed through. Absolutely no semis are allowed to enter the highway until further notice. A traffic expert has been consulted and he has provided a special highway lubricant that should, when used properly, enable the stalled vehicle to move out of the highway in order that the flow of traffic may be restored in two to three days. Godspeed, highway lubricant!

We are in the throes of a dilemma in the D’oh household, and we don’t know what to do. Mr. D’oh is currently of the mind to “sleep on it.” This would be a fine solution, were it not for the fact that I haven’t been sleeping all that well lately. However, I will certainly do my best. Perhaps the answer will come to me in a dream.

What is our dilemma, you ask? We found out this weekend that there was a puppy in need of a home. A couple of empty nesters with too much disposable income and too little intelligence bought themselves a Puggle when they moved into a flashy new condo this year. For those of you not in the know, the Puggle is the newest trendy designer hybrid dog (read: mutt). It is a cross between a Pug and a Beagle, and thanks to a few empty headed Hollywood B-listers and some unscrupulous puppy mills who have the audacity to call themselves breeders, it is the new must-have “It” dog. This means that, while thousands of sweet, wonderfuls dogs are euthanized in shelters each day in this country (both mutts and purebreds), vapid assholes like Jake Gyllenhaal are parading their $1000 living accessories around on the talk show circuit ensuring that more irresponsible fools will purchase these dogs.

This particular couple did NO research whatsoever on dogs or dog ownership. Apparently, they liked the looks of the breed, so they bought a puppy. Imagine their surprise when the puppy they purchased began to shed (as ALL pugs do), bark (a classic Beagle trait), run around and try to engage them in play (both breeds are extremely social, and Beagles are pack animals), and attempt to sleep with them (again - social animals). The dog became increasingly demanding as she grew older (yet it never occured to them that maybe - just maybe - she might be approaching puberty and be in need of spaying?!).

A member of the local Pug rescue heard through the grapevine that they were thinking of selling her. She contacted the couple and begged them to surrender the dog to rescue, explaining what would happen if a puppy mill purchased her (can you imagine what they’d do to a dog like her of prime breeding age?). They said they’d get back to her, and they called a week later and agreed to give her up saying they “just wanted their freedom back!” Wow - maybe they should have thought of that before they got a dog! They even gave the rescue money for her spaying, which makes me wonder why they didn’t bother getting it done in the first place!

Enter the D’oh family. We heard about her through a Pug meet up group we recently joined. She came over to meet us today, and most of us were smitten (including our own Pug, who has a MAJOR crush). Mr. D’oh is being a bit of a fence sitter. It seems he’s rather a Pug purist. While I admit I’m one of the few who doesn’t think the Puggle is the cutest thing ever, I do find this girl darling. The kids are, naturally, in love. What to do…what to do?

Stay tuned…

Oh, here’s an interesting bit of trivia I learned today: did you know that baby echidna and platypi are called puggles?