I got to spend my "No Real Pants Weekend" (i.e., the one weekend in June where I didn't have any plans, and therefore spent 56+ hours in pajama's, even if I left the house) with my brother Josh's rescue dog, Lobo. Aka, Robo Cop, Lobo-Tron, Lobiticus, Land o'Lobo, Lobo Lakes, Lobo-Raptor, Hobo Lobo, LoboOboBoBoSh'laMobo, etc.
Josh and his wife rescued Lobo a few years ago. He was found at 6 weeks old in a rancid, flooded basement with the rest of his litter. From the best they can tell, he's a shepherd/rottweiler mix, and his screaming shrieking howl is terrifying (when he's scared, he basically sounds like a girl getting raped in a park. Not that I know what that sounds like. I'm just guessing. Wow, what an awkward analogy.)
He's almost 5 now, but he still has the energy of a puppy. He's ginormous, has raptor claws, is funny and oh so lovable, takes all our stairs in one single bound, leaps like a gazelle, and is just happy to be alive. And while I love Josh like crazy, I think I love my dog-nephew more.
So I spent a bunch of my weekend writing, playing with Lobo, and taking 7000 pictures of him.
Lucy, on the other hand, did not have any fun with Lobo. In fact, it's safe to say that she sees Lobo as a clumsy, lumbering jackass. She literally spent the entire weekend looking like this:
Now, I know what you're thinking. Audrey, she *always* looks like she's on the verge of suicide or cardiac arrest. But, to the discerning eye, the above picture is one of a basset hound who sees me getting excited over another dog, and has perceived herself to be replaced, abandoned, and unloved for eternity. She didn't even cheer up when I decorated her with Star Wars figurines:
|"I do say sir, this terrain does seem rather... ruff."|
Spending time with Lobo reminded me of spending time with Bart, which was really bittersweet. From barking his balls off at strangers, to sneaking food off the counter (Lobo absconded with 2 whole sticks of butter, 3 muffins, and half a pb&j), to making the grossest sound ever while cleaning himself, and even his long legged prancy gait, I couldn't help but think of Bart and miss him terribly.
Let's just file that under the "break ups suck" category.
And, onto cheerier topics!
My parents were watching Shayne's kids this weekend. And on Saturday morning, Grey and I had some quality time while Neve slept in, wherein I introduced him to The Simpsons.
And he loved it! He sat down and watched, engrossed and laughing, through 6 straight episodes while I cleaned the kitchen. And when the disc was over, he reminded me every 45 seconds that I needed to change the DVD. It's cool to think that he's 5 and appreciating The Simpsons. It's even more cool to think that I was 5 when I started watching them. And, that fact just aged me another 20 years.
|laughing at Grounds Keeper Willy|
And then we had a photo shoot, because Grey is an eternal camera ham, just like his dad.
|Sheldon Cooper from Big Bang Theory, anyone?|
|"take one of my turtle's butt!"|
My nephew is awesome.
I also died my hair near-black,
and made a questionably good coconut cream pie from the Back in the Day Bakery cookbook.
I say questionable because I made the filling twice, following the directions precisely, and it still wouldn't firm up. I think it's something to do with the double boiling process, which I'm still not comfortable with. Also, more than 3 bites of this pie is enough to send you into a diabetic coma. I ate a whole piece and saw stars and couldn't feel my legs for 4 hours. It's dangerous.
Basically, my weekend was exceedingly lazy and dog-filled and then there was a delicious father's day BBQ at Lance and Mary's house.
That's a good weekend in my book.
This blog is bordering dangerously close on "Sad Woman Who Only Blogs About Dogs". I promise to post a blog with some kind of substance** soon, I promise.
**this is funny, because it implies that I typically post meaningful, worthwhile blogs.