Wednesday Smalls ‘n’ Bensday: Special Doggie Door Edition

Tim got the dogs a new present, and so far they are very confused about it.

Ben and Smalls vs. the Doggie Door

During the summer, when we have the doors and windows open so we don’t melt into puddles of goo on the couch, we are constantly peeling ourselves off the couch to let the dogs in and out. They hear a noise outside and need to go bark in the yard. Then they realize they’re outside and we’re inside and they want to be with us so they need to come in. And then they hear a noise outside and need to go bark in the yard. And, repeat.

Fun as it is to go through this cycle approximately 1,000 times/night, Tim decided to put an end to it and install a doggie door in our screen door. They’re very skeptical of the contraption, naturally, and so far refuse to go though it unless we hold it open with a piece of cheese on the other side. The concept of pushing through it themselves is downright terrifying. Nobody is surprised by this.

I’m sure that in time they’ll figure it out. They’ll be desperate enough to go outside and bark at a noise that they’ll just run though it (much like Smalls tried to run through the screen pre-doggie-door yesterday afternoon) and realize all the freedom and joy that come with the doggie door.

Until then, I expect there will be a lot of coaxing on our part, and a lot of cheese eating on their part.

Creepy, not Cuddly

I’ve been lounging on the couch most of the evening, snuggled up with a good book, and I just got up to turn a light on and discovered a big, nasty, mean-looking spider casually hanging out on the back of the couch. Talk about unsettling.

It reminds me of the time a few months ago when I was getting ready for bed and I looked at Tim, already in bed and snuggled up with an e-book. There was a dark spot of lint or fuzz or something on the pillow next to him and, because my first thought upon seeing any dark piece of lint is, “is that a spider?” I lightheartedly said to him, “Is there a spider on your pillow?” (Even though I knew it was most likely just a harmless piece of lint.) Tim slowly turned his head to discover that the harmless piece of lint mere inches from his face was, in fact, a big, nasty spider. I watched in awe as he calmly got out of bed, found something suitable for spider-squishing, and took care of the situation, not acting at all like someone who has just been in bed snuggled up with an unfriendly spider. He later admitted to being rather freaked out about his nasty bed bug (and he probably thanked me profusely for saving his life).

I’m a little irritated that our neighborhood spiders seem to be under the impression that we would like them to come into our house and try to cuddle with us. I’m also annoyed about the big, ugly spider-gut stain that now adorns the back of my couch and won’t come out, despite my best blotting and scrubbing efforts.

The Sounds of Nature

You know what’s fun? Spontaneous camping trips, like the one Tim and I took Friday night. We decided to go about 5:30, ran to the store for campfire food, packed the Jeep with camping gear and dogs, and drove up the mountain in search of a good campsite. It took some hunting, but we eventually found a beautiful secluded spot with a view of the peak. We set up camp, prepared some delicious cheeseburgers over the fire, and enjoyed a beverage or two as the sun set behind the mountains.

You know what else is fun? Taking refuge in the tent from an unexpected rainstorm, snuggling up with two cute dogs, and playing cards by flashlight (not quite as romantic as candlelight, but less likely to burn the tent down). Then burrowing into sleeping bags and drifting off to sleep to the sound of raindrops falling softly outside the tent.

You know what’s not so fun? Waking up to the sound of mariachi music being blasted from the car stereo of campers up the road from us at 2:00 AM. As we lay awake in the tent trying in vain to sleep through the neighbors’ fiesta, we learned that the bass line in every mariachi song is exactly the same. Mariachi bass players must be bored out of their minds, playing the same 6 notes in the same rhythm over and over and over again. Tim and I could hardly tolerate it for two hours; I can’t imagine having to make a career of it. Needless to say, we were relieved when the rain started up again at 4:00 and drowned out the music so we could get back to sleep.