An Ocean's Garbled Vomit On The Shore

Did you know that puppies can projectile vomit? Me neither. Until Stella let loose Exorcist-style. All over the couch. It's a small consolation that the couch is leather and not fabric. You'd think that it would be easy to clean up but it wasn't. For some reason, the bottom cushions are attached to the couch; they look removable but aren't (we've had the couch for 3 years and this is the first time I've noticed. Perceptive, much?) So although cleaning the surface of the cushions was easier than it would have been if we had a fabric couch, my cleaning job was hampered by the fact that vomit was dripping in between the cracks of the cushions and I couldn't pull the cushions out. What? Too much vomit talk? The thing is, I don't have a child. Projectile vomiting is not something I should have to deal with. When you have a child you're like "Yup. Projectile vomiting. Been there. Done that." It goes with the territory. Child = projectile vomiting. Cute adorable puppy SHOULD NOT = projectile vomiting. I'm just sayin'. You prepare yourself (or at least, I would prepare myself) when you have a kid. You KNOW it's going to be gross. You psych yourself up for the months of poop and pee and vomit and all the other bodily fluids you are going to come into contact with. I thought I'd prepared myself for having a puppy. I knew about the peeing on the floor. I understood about picking up the poop. But vomit? Really? Projectile vomiting? I can't get over this. And to make matters worse, Stella was so pleased with herself. It was like she'd learned a new trick or something. So here I am, trying to stop the flow of vomit from making it's way into the cracks between the cushions while trying to reassure Stella that I wasn't mad at her (puppy books says that if you freak out about something your puppy might develop a phobia about the thing you're freaking out about. I think one vomit-phobia per household is sufficient and I've got it all locked up, thankyouverymuch) and at the same time trying not to reinforce the thought that projectile vomiting gets you lots of kisses and cuddles. Don't want her to try for a repeat performance.

I`ll Just Take The I-Got-A-Lot-Of-Cheese Award

Look what I got! The lovely Donna gave it to me. Is it nerdy of me to admit how pleased I am to be nominated for a blogging award? Each time I hit publish, I feel a twinge of self-doubt; is this post interesting / witty / relevant? Being nominated gives me the validation that my insecure little heart desires.

So the rule is that I need to link back to the person who nominated me (check!) and then nominate 10 of my favourite / most read blogs. It's tough choosing just 10 (what can I say - I have a boring job and read a lot of blogs to pass the time) but here I go (in no particular order):

- spiritofplace (the first blog I ever read, before I even know what a blog was)
- Dutch Blitz (the second blog I read, because of the link on spiritofplace)
- Life in the Left Lane (she's getting married around the same time I am and it's fun to read about her preparations ... and then freak out about how unprepared I am compared to her)
- See Hear Speak No Evil (3 ladies who never fail to make me giggle)
- The Art of Over-Thinking (because it's eerie how alike we are)
- Trials & Tribulations of a London Lass (her slang reminds me of when I lived in England)
- No Ordinary Rollercoaster (because he has a cute dog - not as cute as Stella obviously, but cute enough)
- Just Jenn Rants & Raves (she bakes and then takes pictures of her awesome food - it makes me hungry)
- New York Dactyl (funny. shit.)
- Chelsea Talks Smack (she makes me think)

So there you go. Check them out. Make some new friends.

Just To Tell You Once Again Who's Bad

Last night was week 2 of puppy school. Stella is now officially the worst dog in the class. Whenever the teacher wants to demonstrate how to react to bad behaviour, she uses Stella as an example. Except that Stella doesn't respond to her methods. Let me paint you a picture of our humiliation:

Teacher wants to show us what to do if your puppy jumps up on you. She brings Stella to the front of the class. Stella immediately starts jumping on her to get at the treats in her hand. Teacher does her "eh eh eh" noise. Stella keeps jumping. Teacher says "off!" in a firm voice. Stella jumps. Teacher yanks on Stella's leash. Stella sits... and then jumps. Teacher stands on Stella's leash. Stella continues to jump even though the leash is constraining her. She's making it half an inch off the ground but still - she jumps. At this point, Teacher tells the class that their dogs would be behaving by now and that Stella is just "being a puggle." Apparently Teacher is biased against puggles because they're known for being difficult. Whatever. Stella's not difficult, she's spirited. She's got character. There's never a dull moment with Stella around.

Which brings me to our next moment of shame. Last night there was a new dog in class, Sophie, an 11-week old Maltese. Sophie is about the size of a guinea pig. She probably weighs 3 lbs and is pretty much a big ball of white fluff. During class, Stella was really interested in Sophie. We thought it was because Sophie was new. It was actually because Stella wanted to eat her. At the end of class we played "pass the puppy." We passed the puppies around the circle, giving each puppy the chance to be petted by someone new. Teacher wants us to have 2000 people touch our puppies by the time they're 2 years old. I have no idea how she expects us to keep track. (Did I mention that Teacher is a bit of a tool? Stella is so disdainful of her. It's pretty funny.) Anyway, we're passing the puppies around, which gives them a bit more freedom. Stella sees this as her opportunity and pounces on Sophie. I really wish I was exaggerating this for comedic effect but I'm not. We had to drag Stella off this poor, traumatized puppy (though what an 11-week old puppy is doing in puppy school is beyond me.) It was mortifying. S thinks that Stella thought Sophie was a chewtoy. She's got a stuffed bunny that's about twice the size of Sophie, so he might be on to something. All I know is that we are going to work Stella's ass off this week with the puppy school homework and next week she is going to be the puppy school star. *feverishly knocking on wood*

And My New Grandma Bea Arthur Come On Over

*Disclaimer for Jess: This post has pictures of food. If you are hungry, stop reading now.

This weekend was relaxed and slow and exactly what I needed. There was not 1 gin & tonic involved (shocking, I know.) Since moving out of downtown Vancouver, our social life has decreased somewhat. I think I'm okay with that. I haven't felt that bone-crushing exhaustion I used to feel Sunday afternoon after a weekend of bars, clubs and patios. I actually feel almost rested up and ready for the week ahead. It's bizarre and a bit unsettling but also nice. It's nice to feel healthy again. To not wake up feeling like you've been run over by a truck. To not be able to actually feel your sore liver. That being said, I am definitely in need of a girls' night out. I want to go out with my ladies, drink far too many gins and dance my ass off. I just don't want to deal with public transit at the end of the night :)

Last weekend I made the mistake of hoping Westy's team would lose on Friday so I could drive up to Vernon to watch their next game. Well I got my wish - they did lose on Friday. But then they lost on Saturday too, forcing their playoff series to go to the dreaded game 7. Fortunately they managed to pull off a win, advancing them to the next round. I was toying with the idea of driving up to Penticton this weekend to watch games 1 & 2 of this series but in the end my laziness won out and I stayed put. Turtle drove up for Friday's game and won a bucket full of jelly beans - clearly karma was trying to tell me something. Westy's team won both nights so they're ahead 2-0 in the series. I refuse to make any sort of predictions - I am keeping my big mouth shut. Games 3 & 4 are Tuesday and Wednesday.

I went to visit my grandma in the "retirement community" on Saturday. We had coffee and these:

I think the highlight of the visit was when she told me that she thinks my uncle is a "stupid ass." It was hilarious. He is a stupid ass, it was just funny to hear my 92-year old grandma say so. Or it could have been when she said she has solved Vancouver's homeless problem. She thinks we need to lock up the homeless because "then they'd have homes." What can I say - Grandma has an opinion on everything and Grandma's always right.

I made a banana cream pie this weekend for Easter dinner at future MIL's house. It was not a success. It was the first banada cream pie I've ever made and it will probably be the last. It tasted really good, it just looked like crap. So much so that I can't post a picture of it here because it will make you throw up in your mouth a little. It didn't set fully so it was very gooey looking. It also got that nasty pudding-skin on the surface. It was not an attractive dessert. So I smothered it in whipped cream and sprinkled it with nuts and told everyone to eat with their eyes closed. Now I need to come up with another dessert for next weekend's Easter dinner at my parents' house. Suggestions?

All I See Is Mystery And I Obey

Why Stella needs puppy school:

This is what remains of Stella's bed. See the sad, deflated centre of the bed? It used to be full of stuffing. Until Stella decided to eat it:


Stella hiding the evidence:


Sometimes Stella gets a really scary look in her eyes. It's times like this that I know she would eat my face if given the opportunity:

Stella telling us it's time to go for a walk. We don't tell her. She tells us:

Stella giving the evil eye. She gives me this look when she's sick of the camera flash constantly going off in her face:

And this is my sweet puppy givin' the business to the Easter bunny:

This is why we decided to enroll her in puppy school. The first class wasn't too bad. She wasn't the worst puppy in the class but she certainly wasn't the best. She has this adorable habit of vocalizing her yawns. I really don't know how else to describe it. Anyway, she kept doing it during class. We thought it was hilarious because man, puppy school is boring, but the teacher wasn't too impressed. This week involved a lot of talking (and the teacher wouldn't let the puppies interact with each other - which I thought the whole point of puppy school was, but whatever.) Hopefully next week we actually get to do stuff. I'm hoping that puppy school will convert Stella from a leash-puller (she weighs 15lbs and I'm not kidding when I say that she drags me down the street) into a well-behaved heeler. Hah, I just accidentally typed "heller" there - foreshadowing, perhaps?

Baby Needs A New And Shiny Prize

The ladies at See Hear Speak No Evil are giving away a fabulous prize just for commenting on their blog. Go check it out. Even if you don't love free stuff you will love their blog. They are funny ladies who will make you laugh.

Is Lump Fast Asleep Or Rockin' Out With The Band?

I noticed Stella's Lump of Doom Saturday afternoon. She seemed fine; she wasn't in any pain but she had this protrusion coming out of her back. I thought maybe it was a rib. She tends to run into things a lot (she takes after me) so I thought maybe she'd bumped herself out of alignment. Don't ask me how I thought this was possible, I just did. I tried to push the lump back in (thinking it was either a rib or a hernia - either way I thought I could just push it back and it would be fine.)

Stella was having none of it. It wasn't painful to her, just really annoying. I know this because she was doing her sniffy thing. When Stella is annoyed she huffs and sighs like an adolescent girl. When Stella is in pain she bites like a mofo (I know this because of the time I was cutting her nails and accidentally cut her toe off. Ok, I didn't cut her toe off, I just cut the nail too short, but it f-ing bled like I cut her toe off. And she bit me like I cut her toe off. I don't want to talk about it.)

The lump is not connected to her innards. Stella has a lot of extra skin, so I was able to actually lift the lump up away from her body. The lump is big (about the size of a peach pit - a BIG peach pit) and worrisome. At this point I decide that Stella has cancer. S agrees that we should call the vet so I call and make an appointment for the next morning. And then spend the rest of the evening fawning over my poor, sick puppy (who is acting like her usual, monster self.)

Sunday morning I walked Stella to the vet (the logic being that if she has a 30 minute walk before she gets to the vet, she won't act like a demon when she gets to the vet. This logic has yet to pan out but I'm sure one day - one day! - it will.) We get to the vet and wrestle Stella onto the scale. She's now 14.6 lbs - double the weight she was when we got her. My baby's growing up.

The vet tries very hard not to laugh at us when we tell him what's wrong. Apparently it's really common for dogs to have reactions to the rabies vaccine. Stella had her rabies shot 2 weeks ago though so I didn't even think of it. Also, if it's so common, shouldn't the vet tell you that when you get the shot? So that you don't freak out when your dog grows a lump the size of a peach pit on their back? And have to spend $34.13 getting the lump checked out? Gah!

Stella's Lump of Doom should disappear on its own within the next 6 months (I know, right? 6 months!) It's not a problem unless it starts to grow or ooze pus. Apparently these rabies vaccine lumps can become infected AND they can turn cancerous - how screwed up is that?

In other Stella news, tonight we start puppy school. Hilarity ensues.