Christmas Pictures

Well, we had a great trip to Florida. I'd better get rid of this blog before Michael is old enough to read, because I don't want him to get too big for his britches, but he was very nearly a perfect kid on the two flights. And the airlines were wonderful. I'm usually expecting the luggage to get lost or the lines to be long or the seats to be over-filled, but everything went really well. We flew on American Airlines on the way down and when we got to the security line two security guards came over and one took the diaper bag, one took the stroller and they took Michael and I to the front of the line. We went with Northwest on the way home and Michael slept the entire trip. I believe it was his Christmas gift to me. And when we landed in Detroit, he went right back to sleep in the car after dinner and slept all the way home. What a kid.
The visit was great. We didn't have to wonder more than 1/2 second whether Michael was going to remember his Grandma and Grandpa. He sure was excited to see them and he's getting very good at giving hugs, so they were able to get stocked up on those until spring. And Grandma got Michael all caught up on fish kisses. It's weird the things kids remember. Michael enjoyed being outdoors again--I think he's got cabin fever up here in Michigan. He spent most of his time out on the porch building block towers with Grandpa or helping to count the stones in the drive way. That's a pretty big project, but that kid can focus. And we had a cookout at the beach on Christmas. I know some people dream of a white Christmas, but I dream of a white sand beach. It was beautiful. Michael didn't know what to think about the water, but he loved the sand. He's a kook. Here's some pictures:

"I sure like my Grandpa!"

Do you see my fun rocket? And all these stones!


Christmas pajamas

I'm not afraid of the waves. I don't think...



"Momma, maybe we should move, my feet are sinking"

"I might put all this sand in my hair..."

"It took Grandma a long time to get the sand out"

"Momma, I don't think we're ready to say goodbye--you go ahead and go."

A Little Help Here, Please

Jamie is going to write about her trip to Florida (only the favorite kid got to go with her) but first I have something to say. I'm a cat and it's not easy to train people, but Jamie has brought things to an all new level of incompetence. I mean, all she has to do is keep my food bowl full, the litter box empty and stay out of my way. That doesn't seem like too much to ask. But there she was yesterday completely stepping on my toes--and then acted like I was the problem. I can see I'm going to have to time-line the facts for you so you can judge for yourself:
I am a hunter. It's what I was born to do. I don't think Jamie was born to do that, so her opinion is not always helpful. So I tend to ignore her. I have lately been reading signs that say the mice aren't necessarily all gone. They get careless at night because they think when I'm curled up under blankets I can't sense them. So I've heard some scratching in the walls and some skittering in the cupboards. And I'm on high alert. Yesterday I was ready to make my move. I was inching my way carefully along the counter with an unsuspecting mouse right in my sights, oh so slowly making my way closer to the wily creature when along comes bumbling Jamie--she took one look at the target and screamed. That's right. Screamed. Which started a frenzy of activity. The dogs started running full speed around the house trying to climb the walls, the kid started crying, (either because his mom screamed or because she grabbed him and perched precariously on a chair) and the mouse, of course, ran away. Good grief. Since I'm a wise hunter, I knew it would be a while before I could re-set my trap, so I decided to take a nap. And all I wanted before my nap was a little snack. But Jamie seemed to think that would spoil my appetite for mouse so she refused to feed me. And kept pointing out that the mouse was trying to sneak back onto the counter--I tried to tell her I knew all that and to have patience, but she wouldn't listen. Then she picked me up and put me on the counter when the mouse was right there--I tried to pretend I didn't see it (how can you play cat and mouse when the mouse knows you know it's there?) and then she said the dogs could do a better job catching mice than I could. Excuse me? Those are fighting words, missy. Well, through persistence I managed to convince her to feed me my snack. And then dinner. And then a bedtime snack. And while everybody was sleeping I did my job. I wasn't hungry though, so I left the mouse right in the middle of the bathroom. See, sometimes I don't mind if she screams.

We Love Snow!

We love the snow. Because we're dogs and we're trackers and it sure is easier in the snow. You can smell the track so much better, or maybe I mean you can see the tracks better. I guess it's easier to see the bunnies--I mean rabbits against the snow from farther away and Pepper was just reminding me yesterday that we're on constant vigil for the deer and now we can see them all the way across the hay field. Jackie says she could see a deer in the middle of a full grown corn field but since there's no corn around us I guess we can't put that to the test. And boy, oh boy, are those things important. I wouldn't let anything get in the way of keeping my eye out for anything that tries to invade our territory. I am completely focused. Well, sure I stick my head under the snow every once in a while, but have you ever tried that? It's a huge challenge to see if you can burrow all the way down to solid ground. And I like how it sounds. It mutes the constant barking of Jackie and Pepper. C'mon guys--give it a rest. If mommy wanted to know every time a cat crossed the road she'd put in an alarm system. And of course if Mommy is outside then I have to take time out of my work to play with her. Every morning she scoops big piles of snow off her car and I try to catch it all. I catch most of it on my head, but hearing mommy laugh makes it worth it. And on the rare occasion that she comes outside without Michael I feel it's my duty to continue her wrestling lessons. We've really been neglecting that for the last year--apparently I'm not supposed to knock Michael down when I'm playing with Mommy and I've found it's easier to just wait until he takes his naps. I've also found that the more snow we have on the ground, the more mommy's laugh resembles a screech. And maybe a cuss word. OK, OK, OK, so maybe I'm not the most diligent guard dog. If you promise not to tell Jackie and Pepper, I'll tell you my real favorite thing about snow. Snow angels. I make them all the time but when the other dogs catch me I have to tell them I thought I was rolling in rabbit pellets. I guess that's what good dogs are supposed to do...

I dream of...a King Size Bed!

I'd like to describe our nightly routine and then I want some commiseration on what I have to put up with. First of all, Michael is fine. He goes to bed in his own bed without any theatrics. Just says night, night to the dogs and the cat and then kisses his baby, Elmo, his doggie, me and Pooh goodnight (usually me and Pooh get two kisses) and then listens to his music as he drifts off into dreamland. Easy. The animals are a whole other story. They are needy. Mainly they need to be closer to me than any of the other animals. If they can get a head or a foot or any other body part on me, all the better. And this is when I'm sitting on the couch watching TV. I only have two sides and there are three dogs so you'd think that would be insurmountable, but Pepper crawls up behind me on the couch and lays there with a paw or a butt hanging down resting on my head. The cat likes being close just as much as anybody else, but because she's a cat she needs to act like she doesn't care. So she crawls under my blanket and chews on my foot for a couple minutes before she curls up half on/half off my feet. There I sit, Jorgie's head pinning my arm down, Jackie's feet digging into my ribs, Pepper's butt on my shoulder and Jessie trapping me in place, not by her weight on my feet, but by her complete assurance that I am content being her pillow. As cozy as all this sounds, I've been finding myself going to bed earlier and earlier--I have to try to catch them all off guard so I can be the first one upstairs. At the very least, I try not to be the last one upstairs because if I am, I can kiss a good night's sleep goodbye. I have to be tricky because while the dogs can scoot right into the bed, I have to turn off all the lights, unplug the Christmas tree lights, turn down the heat, feed the cat and check on Michael before I can turn in. I have never beaten Pepper, but I can trick the other two dogs. Sometimes I leave a light on so they don't recognize my routine and a couple times I've put the sleep timer on the TV so that they would think I just got up to go to the bathroom. So usually I walk into my room and Pepper is on my pillow. I shove him over a little and he re-settles himself and snuggles into my back. Next Jackie comes upstairs and she gets on the bed by my feet and snuggles right into them. Now Jorgie might seem like a stupid dog, but she's never one to waste her energy, so if she sees that the best spots are already taken she just curls up right next to my bed and goes to sleep. The cat usually makes an appearance about then to bat at my face for a while, but eventually she goes into the spare room where she gets a bed all to herself. Nice and peaceful. That's what usually happens. If anybody gets out of order, though, we're toast. I've gotten upstairs a couple times to see the cat planted squarely in the middle of the bed. At that point, I'm the only one brave enough to join her and we spend the rest of the night listening to the frustrated whines of the dogs on the floor. If Pepper has already claimed his spot and Jorgie beats Jackie to the place by my feet that's the most difficult to resolve. Because Jackie does not give up easily. She usually tries to trick Jorgie first by talking about how she thinks she's going to go down and eat all the food in the house or drink the rest of the water but if that doesn't work (and sometimes it does--Jorgie really loves water) then she just climbs on up and assumes that we'll make room. Which we always do, but since none of the dogs can be directly next to each other we have some tense moments. Pepper usually ends up by my stomach, Jackie curled up by my back and Jorgie moves to the front of my legs because she doesn't want to get poked in the ribs by Jackie's toenails. I, in the mean time, could rival a pretzel when it comes to arm/leg placement. But we're all together and I guess that's important, too.