Posts Tagged pets

Life’s mystery


Today during my Teenie walk I encountered Life’s Mystery. Alas! I encountered the mystery itself, not the answer: all the grass along our trek, I repeat ALL THE GRASS was deemed unworthy of being peed on. This time, the asphalt in the middle of the road was more deserving… five times.

There, ponder THAT mystery!




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Am I being groomed?

Sometimes I wonder if our pets are grooming us for a life with kids. I know you are a parent so you’ll be able to tell me. Let’s put it in bullet form for you:

  • Dog whines at 3:00 am because she’s thirsty or wants to go out for a pee
  • Cat pukes in bedroom at 5:00 am
  • Dog is hungry but will not eat until we find her little green ball.
  • No, not that little green ball, the *other* little green ball that looks *exactly* like the little green ball that you found
  • Little green ball lands next to the cat so the dog stares at the ball for cat to throw it
  • Cat ignores dog request
  • Dog has a bark fit because cat is ignoring her
  • Cat ignores dog request
  • Dog nibbles on cat because cat is ignoring her
  • Cat cries and hides in the tub
  • Cat is hungry but won’t eat the food that is in his dish so he steals food from the dog
  • Dog barks at cat for stealing
  • Cat cries and hides in the tub
  • Dog follows me into the washroom; otherwise, she’ll cry at the door
  • When dog is sick she looks super small, doesn’t eat, and whines, but can’t tell me what’s wrong so I feel helpless
  • Dog looks super sad when I leave
  • Cat and dog come to the door when I come back home and they are super happy to see me
  • I step on cat puke
  • I step on dog toy
  • Cat and dog stare at me when I’m talking to them and then they go and do exactly the opposite of what I said!

What’s your verdict? Being groomed or not?



And here is the last (but not least) of the characters of my house: my 5-pound bundle of hair.

“That is not a dog, it’s a sample” is still my favorite small dog joke I’ve heard

Her name is Teenie María (HA! You thought she wasn’t going to have 2 names?) For 6 months I would hear “Teenie? How appropriate!” and it was SO frustrating! Why? Because I didn’t know that teeny means small. I named her after a gorgeous black doll I had whose little shirt had “Teenie” embroidered on it. Thus I had a very cartoon-like conversation when I met my former ESL teacher after she said “Teenie? How appropriate!” It went something like this:

  • Me: Why is that appropriate?
  • Her: Because she’s teeny
  • Me: I know, I named her Teenie
  • Her: Yes, and she is teeny
  • Me: Of course she’s Teenie, that’s what I named her!

The conversation went on like that until she finally said “errrh, you do *know* that ‘teeny’ means ‘small’, right?”

She’s very useful when watching TV

She has been with me during my whole canadian life (minus one month) so I am quite attached to my little doggie. I grew up in Venezuela, surrounded by German Shepherds. I was 23 when I moved to Canada by myself on a cold January 3rd, 7.8 years ago into a little tiny basement apartment. I survived my first few weeks sans dog but it was awful arriving everyday to a cold and solitary apartment. I needed the unconditional love that a dog gives you, I needed a home.

So, I did a lot of Internet research and filled in tons of questionnaires, everybody had the same answer: get a West Highland Terrier, I had never had a small dog before but it made sense. So I went in search for one… that’s how I ended up in front of Teenie’s room, looking at a sad tiny pile of black hair in a corner while puppies in other rooms where all happy and playing. I asked the vendor what was wrong with her, the lady told me that she was a very depressed dog with no signs of life (great sales pitch, eh?) and asked me if I wanted her for a discounted prize. Of course I didn’t! Come on! A depressed dog that is was NOT the breed that Internet Wisdom told me was the perfect breed for me?! But I felt so bad for the poor limp doggie that I asked to see her. The lady picked her up and I wondered if the doggie was alive for all the outward signs of life that she was showing. I reached for her and as soon as my hands closed around her… MAGIC! There is absolutely no other word that can describe what happened that day, I can still remember the little gasp of surprise that escaped the sales-lady when Teenie started moving her whole body in excitement, shaking her tail SO fast it was a blur, and licking my hands as fast as her little pink tongue could.

That day I went home.


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Pancho Panza

I believed it’s only fair to introduce you to the 3 characters of my house that would appear and reappear in my posts: my husfried, my doggie, and my kitty. I’ll start with the cat.

Meet my kitty, my 16 pound kitty whose head reaches my hip when he is standing in two legs… maybe “kitty” is not quite the proper term but whatever, he’s my kitty 🙂

I love my cat: Pancho Panza. Yes, he has two names, I’m a firm believer that you need two names in order to be able to make your point. “Pancho Panza off the counter!” sounds more effective that “Pancho off the counter” but that’s just me.

Pancho’s name has its own story. He was first called “Patch” because he had a little bit of a black patch on top of his white head. One day his ear got a bit chewed up by the dog, the membranes of the ear were separated and blood was accumulating in there giving him a tough UFC-fighter-like cauliflower ear. The vet said he needed surgery, after they shaved his head the patch disappeared, now I was left with a totally white cat called “Patch” and so he became “Pancho”. His second name was inspired on Cervantes fictional character Sancho Panza as he has a little bit of “panza”…

He is the sweetest cat on Earth, he sits across from me when I’m cooking to keep me company (and to get the stray bit of celery so he can roll on it). He lies down on my lap when I’m watching TV. He runs to the door to say “hi” when I arrive home; and when he falls off a chair while napping, he gets up and licks himself and looks at you like saying “what? I meant to do that!”

Yup, I love my cat but sometimes I wonder… specially in days like today, when he woke me up at 4:00 am lying down on my stomach (did I mentioned that he weighs 16 lbs?), loudly purring and demanding affection. Yes, yes, so cute BUT AT 4:00 AM!!! And to jump off of me, he made sure to stand on my boobs first, at FOUR.A.M. Afterwards, to make it better what does Pancho do? He vomits! Nothing says good morning quite like a sick cat and, since the dog barked at him, he ran scared leaving a trail of bile and pieces of breakfast all over the floor!

So I wonder do I really love him?! And then he does this:

And I forget about the black bags under my eyes, my sore boobs, and the trails of morning puke.

Later, I’ll be telling you more about the other 2 character of my house. Until then:

Happy ramblings!


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