We are SUPER touched to have been given a blogging award (our first) by the amazing Kristen, Zaphod and Hailey over at The Hailey and Zaphod Chronicles! It's called 'Seven Things About Me', where you guessed it- we list 7 things y'all don't know about us!
1) Within the first 45 minutes of having Rascal at home in our care, he managed to crawl into a hole in the box spring and jumped from bed board to bed board while I screamed my head off. He was this tiny little thing- I can still remember seeing that little white and orange face peering back at me through the mattress. I firmly believe the reason he knows his name so well is because I must have called out for him two thousand times in an effort to get him out of the mattress.
2) Scott initially thought that Zoe didn’t have a tongue (weird- I know). When we adopted her, she was barely three months old and didn’t know how to properly clean herself. Somehow this all led to Scott coming to the conclusion that she was missing her tongue, a concern I quickly dismissed after explaining how the humane society would have definitely mentioned if she were missing something like that. Ironically, Zoe licks everything, including Scott’s head.
3) Bailey’s favorite person in the entire world is not me, or Scott, or any of our friends. It’s my dad. She goes crazy with affection when she sees him. It’s almost as though she doesn’t know what to do with herself when he shows up. He even gets the really slow, lovey dovey licks from her!
4) I have never seen a dog get as excited as Bonnie does when I show her the leash. I mean- ever. She doesn’t care where she’s going- I think she’s just happy that she’s leaving the house WITH us, and not watching us go to work. She does this happy Snoopy dance around the front hall, with some intense ‘hands up’ action.
5) My pets make me the happiest person. I L O V E waking up each morning and have four furry faces nuzzling against me. These animals make and break my day. I remember once coming home for lunch from an absolutely terrible day at work. I managed to make it to the car before bursting into tears. I pulled myself into the apartment, scooped up Rascal and bawled like a baby all over him. I’m not kidding- he was soaked. But wouldn’t you believe, that little guy didn’t move a muscle. He sat there, purred and let me burry my face into him and muffle my ugly sobs until I gained enough composure to go back to work. That’s our understand, me and my pets. It’s all unconditional love.
6) I suffer from a condition called anosmia, which basically means I don’t have a sense of smell. Long story short, I fell off my bike while riding without a helmet and severed the nerve (let that be a lesson to all you kidlets!). And before you ask, yes my taste sucks and I haven’t been able to smell for almost 12 years so I don’t overly miss it. It does however make it difficult to find out where the dog has peed…..or pooped…You know the ‘find the poop’ game? Well it’s like triple harder for me. It’s more like “find the mysterious poop that is purposely hiding from you’. Dark rooms with hiding poop are my nemesis.
7) I love animal blogs, food blogs, craft blogs, blogs blogs blogs! I have a few that I read each morning but would love to add to my list. If you have some recommendations for places for a good read, send ‘em my way! This blog has become an outlet where I can get my need to write out of my system, while still avoiding boring friends, family and co workers about pet stories. I love the different perspectives you can get from reading others blogs- you should always keep your mind open to the idea of looking from a different angle!
I love my pets dearly. And I mean, I love them more than life. We’re pretty lucky- Bailey is an incredibly well behaved dog. Zoe is an absolute angel. And Rascal, well he’s a riot. BUT, is seems as though over the past few weeks our Rascal has been doing whatever is needed to live up to his name. Fun right? No. Not at all.
Now that we’re living in a house, I was worried about the cats trying to get outside. We had a little experiment to see what they would do if they were to get outside. Turns out Zoe is so disgusted by the outdoors that she took one sniff, and turned right around and went back inside. Rascal on the other hand seems to like going out onto the porch and rolling around on the concrete. I’m assuming it was the scratchy goodness that caused the worm like movement. Whatever floats your boat I suppose!
Since that initial experiment, Rascal has graduated from staying on the front porch to running around the front yard. To clarify- they are NOT outdoor cats. They are not allowed outside. So, as you can imagine my stress level goes way up when I see that little orange butt sneaking out from underneath my feet and running outside. It’s become a part of our daily morning freak out. Scott and I are rushing out the door, completely unaware of the fuzzy orange face hiding behind the front door waiting for his great escape. Just shoot me now.
In addition to his morning break out, Rascal has picked up a BAD habit that I had foolishly thought was broken months ago. For some reason, he runs around the house SCREAMING at the top of his lungs. It’s like this. MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW. No breaths in between. I don’t know how he gets oxygen. This morning, he had me up at 1:30 AM freaking out. He meows for food, I lie in bed cursing his name trying to ignore his vocal abilities, and after an hour of wanting to pull my hair out get up and feed him.
5:00 AM. Meowing again. Excessive meowing. Now I’m thinking about how I might lock him up in a sound proof room. Except I don’t have a sound proof room. Damnit!
6:00 AM. Now Scott is yelling at Rascal, and I’m pretty sure Rascal is yelling back.
6:30 AM. The meowing is closer to me now. I open my eyes, and Rascal is sitting there staring at me. It’s scary, and I debate waking Scott up.
7:00 AM. The only time where Rascal opts to be quiet, which means I get some sleep. But wait, aren’t I supposed to get up at 7:00 AM?
8:00 AM- Leave house, have to park at work because cat is insane and is trying to kill me. Death by meow. That’s a real thing, right?
This funny little schedule has been going on every morning for the past week. Needless to say, I am at my wit ends. I could always spray him with water, but he loves the sink and to get his fur all soaked so I am doubtful in the success rate for that route. I could give him up. JOKES. Clearly not a choice. I think I’m left with the Thundershift for CATS. That’s right! For cats! I’d like to thank Google for bringing me to the Thundershirts for cats webpage, and the Thundershirt company for being so super duper and offering some slice of sanity during my night time sleeping. Woot woot for sanity!
Remember how upset Rascal was? Turns out he's over it. I'm assuming he and the bunny Chase had a heart to heart and talked things out.
Our lives this week are DRASTICALLY better than the ones we were living last week. We found a new apartment that has a backyard for the Bailster! Hopefully by mid June I will be reunited with my furry family.
As I mentioned above, Rascal seems to be perfectly fine with bunking up with Chase.
Wow Rascal. You look stressed out.
How about you Zoe, are you okay with all of this?
Remind me why I was freaking out again.......
Well. Let me tell you a story.......
Last week our kitchen suffered not one, but TWO floods. After spending the bulk of our Monday with buckets, mops and every towel we own, we called in a plumber. Apparently our pipes had leaked, which caused the water anyone above us used to empty onto our floor. And so, when said plumber was called and came over for a visit we learned that a leaky pipe was the least of our problems. After cutting a hole in the wall (you know. The only red accent wall in the entire place) they discovered that there are vast amounts of mold growing.
On Monday morning we were dealing with a leak, and by Tuesday afternoon we were packing up our clothes to vacate the premises for at least two weeks!
Because of all of this, we had to figure out an immediate game plan for the furry family. Sadly, our cats cannot come with us to my parents house, as their cat is somewhat CRAZY and wouldn't be able to deal with others in his house. Thankfully my bestest friend in the entire world graciously offered up her apartment for the cats.
This is Rascal and Zoe on their way to Auntie Kimmy's. Bailey, Scott and myself are camping out at my parents place. While I know this is temporary, the idea of being seperated from my cats is killing me. Yes, I'm aware this might make me a crazy lady, but I don't care.
Zoe and Bailey are great- barely even notice they're not at their home right now. Rascal however is NOT doing well. Usually he's pretty laid back, social and lovey. I thought that Zoe would have been more upset about the move before Rascal. But he's not eating, drinking or socializing at all. He crept into the farthest point of a closet and wouldn't come out. I arrived at my friends last night to sleep over and try to coax Rascal out of his depression. I managed to get him to come out, but he refuses to eat :( I've put some of my clothes around the apartment for some familiar smells....but I don't think my Scooner is going to last long in such a different environment.
So if anyone out there knows of a short term, pet friendly, furnished rental space....please let me know. I'm on the hunt for a place where WE (and I mean pets) can stay together.
I hate mold........
I have mixed emotions about fire alarms. I get that they are in place to help save you should an actual fire invade your home. But for some reason, the only 'fire alarms' I've experienced were nothing more than a routine drill.
Our apartment building has a routine fire drill quite often, making it's tenants a little less frantic about there ever being a real fire. Personally, when I hear those bells go off I want to throw my pets in a bag and run for dear life. My fiancé however knows that they are simply drills and reminds me that there's no need for urgency.
A few weeks ago we were on our way out the door when the fire alarm went off. Unlike the beloved drills, this sound wouldn't stop. This constant "BBBBBRRRRRIIIINNNNNNGGGG" was filling every single corner of our apartment. The whole thing went something like this.
Me: "I think that's an actual fire alarm"
Scott: "No. It's just a drill"
Me: "Ya....but people are leaving the building"
Scott: "It's a drill, they do it all the time"
Me: "Fine. But if I hear fire trucks, we are out of here".
Outside world: "FIRE TRUCK SOUNDS!"
Me: "Holy crap! There's a REAL fire!"
When we brought both cats home, I opted to keep a cat carrier near the patio door should we ever need to make a quick get away. As Scott and I start to scramble trying to figure out what to do, I say "The cat carrier! It's by the patio door!". Look me at go, all prepared and such for these events. Sadly, I hadn't thought about the fact that Rascal is the size of a dog, and there was no way we could fit BOTH cats in this tiny wee carrier. Rascal butt actually burst the door open, and both cats made a bee-line for under the bed.
In the past, I've always been worried about my felines' absolute love of treats. I hated that they were so obsessed with it, and would drop whatever they were doing to respond to the sound of a treat sounding bag being opened. So as were freaking out because both cats are MIA, my brains goes "SHABAM!" Treats! Turns out my cats will risk their furry little lives for some Temptations! We coax them out, throw them in the dog crate and leave immediately. The entire thing probably last less than four minutes.
Turns out someone on the fourth floor "forgot" they were cooking something, and the smoke set the fire alarms off. Thankfully, we were on the second floor and had no trouble getting out of the building (if it meant saving my pets, I'd jump off any balcony!). Aside from strongly wanting to kick the "I like to cook and leave it to burn" person in the shins, the whole things ended up being pretty funny.
So, it turns out that dog crates double VERY well as a "don't let your cats burn to a crisp" escape option. Another highlight- people asking us if Rascal was some kind of exotic cat because of his size. Thinking back, I should have said a lion or something!
Whoops! I have been caught up in things and have lost track of time. Here's a quick little catch of what the furry family has been up to in recent weeks.
Bailey got to enjoy some serious dog time with Rizzo and Sophie both last weekend and this weekend.
Poor Rizzo. She's literally on the outside looking in!
In case you're wondering, there were ribs and chicken on that BBQ....surprised you can't see the dog drool on the deck!
Naturally Rascal and Zoe were at home getting ready for their close ups......
Check out those whiskers!
Oh Ottawa. The only place you can find a humidex warning, thunderstorms and a chance of flurries in the same 5 day forecast!
This weekend we couldn't resist the beautiful weather that was Ottawa! We brought the Bailster out on Saturday to enjoy the many many smells that only a beagle mix could appreciate.
This past winter, we discovered Bailey's intense desire to bury things around the apartment (there's still a dog bone under the armchair cushion). She didn't develop this fun new little habit in time for last summer, so when we got outside and she realized she could bury her face in leaves and grass instead of bedsheets, it was like a light when off in her head.
I can see it now. When I close my eyes and dream about our future home with the cute little fence, driveway with two cars, beautiful decor.......oh ya....and a backyard that will be demolished by this
Let me know when you get to China ok puppy?
Sunday was equally as beautiful .Thank goodness. Some of us needed the fresh air after St. Patrick's day.....
Who drank all that beer on the balcony? Rascal..........................is there something you want to tell me?
You're still drunk, aren't you cat?
Hope you all had a fantastic weekend
We bought Bailey a nice, big pillow a few weeks ago. Since she travels with us quite frequently, we opted to move her dog bed into the car (it's all about comfort), and so because of this we had to get a replacement for the apartment.
When we first brought Bailey home, it was *decided* that she would sleep in her dog bed on the floor. You know, like this
But let's face it. That beautiful little scene up there was never going to happen. Why? Because my nights usually look a little something like this...
That would be me. Awake. In the middle of the night, on the edge of the bed. It's not uncommon to wake up with a dog paw in my face, or pushing into my back. I know it looks like Bailey doubled in size in this picture. It's because somehow when she's sleeping, she manages to expand her body to the size of a full grown lab. But as if by magic, when I wake up she's back to being Bailey sized.
Now that I think about it, something is missing from the picture above..
Nope still something missing....
Yup! That looks about right! At some point EACH night I'd got all three pets on my side of the bed.
Dogs to the left of me.
Cat to the right.
Here I am, stuck in the middle with you.
I don't know about you, but I have one million pet names for my pets. Funny how that works out...pet names for your pets......
We learned last night that Bailey, who has been called everything from Bailster to Biddle has begun to respond to the name 'Dogis'. I don't mean she'll casually look your way when you say it, I mean she will come running from another room at the mere mention of the word 'Dogis'. Apparently Scott calls her that fairly often, and she's started to turn her head when either Bailey or Dogis is said.
This got me thinking about other pet pet names we use. Zoe has been called Zoe Bear, Panda Bear and Zoester from the toaster (a personal favorite!). But Rascal, other than being called names that aren't suitable for a child friendly blog, never really had one. That is, until Mexico.
When pet owners travel, we tend to find characteristics in our pets in the foreign animals around us. We're able to link our domesticated pets with any tropical animal within view. Don't lie- I know you've done it. I'm sure we've all had our "Do you see that parrot? He looks JUST like my dog back home!" moments. The non-pet owners around you roll their eyes and go along with your statement, probably saying something like "yes, the resemblance is unbelievable...."
And so when we arrived in beautiful Mexico last Spring (has it been a year already?), we met this creature. I was fairly certain that he was either 1) something I was imagining as a result of heat stroke or 2) an animal some mad scientist had assembled in a Frankenstein fashion.
It has the nose of a pig, the body of a monkey and the tail and hands of a racoon. They were ALL over the resort, trying to get into garbage and walking right up to tourists. For some reason, I immediately assumed that this creature's personality would match it's adorable appearance. You'd think I'd consider that neither a pig, monkey or racoon are the friendliest of animals.
We (my parents, brother, brother in law and Scott) decided that this crazy looking thing needed a name. Rather than consulting Google, we chose to name it the Rascoon. Why? We unanimously (this is where people go along to indulge me) felt that it deeply resembled our Rascal back home.
I know what you're thinking. It's like they came from the same litter.
Six days into our seven day stay in paradise I chose to shed my tourist mindset and did some research on my furry little friends. Here's what I found out.
Name: Coati Mundi
Behaviour: Unlike racoons, the Coati Mundi are active during the day. They use vocal signals to communicate, and their pig like snouts can be rotated at an angle of 60° in any direction!
Sure, I knew the name of this weird little animal. And yes, I could have educated my family about the interesting little tid bits I found out. But my entire family spent the entire vacation calling them Rascoons. One German couple sitting beside us one day thought that was what they were called! So I chose to give my Rascal his 15 minutes of fame.
The Rascoon encounter led Rascal to being solely called 'Rascoon' for an entire month after our trip. This was then shortened to Scoon. Which turned into Scooner. Then Scoon Dog. And this my friends, is the pet name for Rascoon. I mean Rascal.