Somehow, Lauren and I came to the conclusion that driving two giant dogs, two kids and ourselves almost 400 miles to visit my mother in New Hampshire was a good idea. My mother only knew of Annie through pictures and from the tales spun here in this very blog. As you might imagine, she was a bit nervous about the whole thing, but from my point of view, she had the easy job. She didn’t have to share a vehicle with three hundred pounds of dog, a family of four and all the luggage required for their seven day adventure. read more »

It’s been hot here in the northeast. One day last week it was 105 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s 735 degrees in dog years… or something. It was hot. Stupid-hot. Not only was it hot, but the humidity here in New Jersey makes it feel like you’re walking through hot Jello all day. Hot sticky Jello with angry people floating in it. Yum

We wanted three things when we bought our house: Central air, a basement, and a fireplace.  We got the fireplace, and the house, location and everything else was perfect so we bought it without the required basement or central air. We then proceeded to sweat the perspiration of the damned for the next fifteen years. OK, so maybe that’s an exaggeration, and we only sweat the perspiration of the darned, but dammit—it was hot! read more »

One day after coming home from somewhere I don’t recall, having done something unrelated, we were greeted by something we couldn’t believe: the wonder of snow inside our house.

I was pretty sure that snow wasn’t supposed to fall indoors – at least not in the summertime. Yet the floors were dusted with snow, as were the piano bench, the walls, the dog toys, and the ruined canister of bread crumbs resting at the top of the stairs.

Wait, what? read more »

Not for dogs!

I like chocolate. In fact everyone likes chocolate in our house. We try not to have it too much, because it’s not the healthiest thing in the world, but sometimes you just need a tasty morsel of gourmet chocolate to melt in your mouth while you moan in pleasure. You know you do it. There’s no need to deny it. We’re all friends here.

Since we all love the stuff, I buy my girls a tower of heart-shaped boxes filled with a variety of tasty gourmet chocolate every Valentine’s Day. Sure I eat half of them, but that’s not important right now. What matters is that I care enough to buy my girls the chocolate they deserve for no other reason than I like it too. Chocolate defies both logic and grammatical protocols you see. read more »

Guinness the Soap Hound

Everyone loves a clean dog. Not many people enjoy the act of washing a dog, but they certainly enjoy the results. Imagine if you could teach a dog to bathe themselves. Sure they can give themselves a thorough tongue-bath, but that’s not what I mean. Imagine if you could get your dog to soap himself up, work up a good lather, then hose himself off. Heck, while we’re wishing, why not throw in a towel dry. Imagine seeing your dog walking into the bathroom with a bar of soap in his mouth and a towel thrown over his back.

These were the thoughts that ran through my head as I saw Lauren chasing Guinness out of the bathroom. Normally I would expect Annie to be causing trouble in the bathroom, so when I saw that it was Guinness, I had to look again. Mr. Guinness, resident good boy and zombie hunter extraordinaire, had tip-toed into the bathroom and pilfered a bar of soap from the tub. As I watched, he came trotting out of the bathroom, furiously chewing something as Lauren followed. He looked like a kid that had stuffed a candy bar into his mouth and was trying to swallow it before his mom could reach him.

She managed to grab him and then dug her her small hand into his enormous mouth as any mother would in order to get the illicit treat. Lauren then pulled out the remaining third of a well chewed bar of Ivory soap. The girls had just finished their showers, and I had opened the last pack that morning, so the bar was fresh and bubbly. His breath was fresh and bubbly too for the first time in months, which was nice, but not germane to the story at hand.

Lauren and I both stared at the soap remnant, then both looked at Guinness in unison. He was the good dog! Good dog’s don’t eat soap. He looked very pleased with himself and sat like a good boy expecting a treat. He then had the nerve to sniff Lauren’s hand to see if maybe she would return his pilfered snack. We told him No! and put the remains of the soap in the trash.

Guinness showed no signs of any distress over the next few days, which I guess is a testament to his constitution, or perhaps his size. Then again maybe he puked somewhere and it smells so nice we haven’t noticed yet. Lauren and I have been kind of afraid to go into the kid’s room lately. Maybe I’ll don my environmental suit and check it out. Then again maybe I’ll have the kids do it.

We now have to lock the bathroom door not only to hide the kitchen trash, but to hide the tasty soap. I’m sure that plenty of people lock their bathrooms to keep their dogs from drinking in the toilet, but to hide the soap? If there is a book entitled Problems that Normal People Have, I don’t think there’s a chapter regarding the need to hide the already locked kitchen trash can in the bathroom along with the soap. Experience has taught us that it’s hard to be normal with Newfies. Given the choice between the two though, I’ll take the Newfies every time.