Casey has developed an unlikely friendship. . . with a cat. This stray has been appearing more and more frequently around our house, often catching me and Casey on her morning walks. I opened the door this evening to find the cat sitting on our porch, meowing pitifully. We let Casey out for a minute so I could get a picture of this unlikely couple.
Anybody want a cat?
Casey’s mug shot. She’s in big trouble. Okay, not really. But this is what she would look like if she WERE in big trouble.
I kid you not. I started this post on March 7th, and then it has just sat there because I was unwilling to finish it. I’ve decided that enough is enough. I’m going to slap some text on the end and finish it no matter how poorly it turns out. Enjoy!
Kate and I often comment on what a good baby/toddler Simon has been to this point in his life. He wasn’t colicky, he’s rarely sick, he’s generally very happy, plays well with others, and . . . I could go on and on, but I won’t. On Monday, we thought that perhaps our luck had finally run out.
I was home from work sick on Monday, and all I wanted to do was to crawl (back) into bed and sleep for a couple of hours. However, my carefully laid plans for a sick day were dashed when Simon started crying. As a parent you come to recognize the different types of cries that your child uses to communicate, and this was clearly the “I’M IN PAIN HERE” cry.
This was a mystery to us. It sprung up out of nowhere, and we couldn’t find a thing wrong with him. We didn’t know if it was gas, teething, or something far more serious. The pediatrician’s office, having dealt with crazy parents often, told us to wait it out and see what happened. Bringing him in might be more traumatic in the long run, because they’d end up running all sorts of possibly invasive tests since we really had no clue what was wrong.
So we waited it out. Simon finally fell asleep, and upon waking up had another bout of The Screams. What finally shook him out of it? Casey. That’s right. Once we let her up onto the bed and he was able to distract himself by hugging the life out of the poor dog, he was happy-go-lucky baby once more.
So Casey has finally pulled her weight. It’s about time. I was beginning to think she was just a gigantic mooch.
I was known, once upon a time, to have said that you can’t love a dog. Kate likes to occasionally throw this in my face when I tell Casey that she’s the cutest dog ever and I love her. I tell Kate it’s special doggy-love that isn’t the same as people-love, but I don’t think I’m off the hook.
We spent the past week in Davis, WV hanging out with my family. It was fun, and I really enjoyed spending the time with my rents and siblings. But Saturday morning was a fiasco as we tried to leave. Between packing, cleaning, and my parents’ minivan dying, tensions were running a bit high. So when Kate came out with the dog and she *poof* disappeared, it was NOT GOOD.
Kate and I had, earlier in the week, had a casual discussion about letting Casey off the leash on a few of our hikes. I, being the more conservative party, wouldn’t take her off the leash when walking her. Kate, being a bit more bold (and confident Casey wouldn’t run away), let her run to her heart’s content. Having seen Kate’s success with the dog off the leash, I followed suit and let Casey run a bit when I was the leash-holder.
So needless to say, when Kate let the dog out, without a leash, and she *poof* disappeared, there were many things running through my head. Not the least of which was I KNEW WE SHOULDN’T LET THAT STUPID DOG OFF THE LEASH.
We spent five or ten minutes walking around the house (which is HIGH on a mountain, and DEEP in the woods) calling for Casey in various tones of voice. Happy, angry, lighthearted-come-and-we’ll-be-best-buds-forever, you name it and we tried it. I had visions of walking around for the next 3 days with a doggy search party in order to find my lost pooch. With panic rising in my chest, I used the ultimate in my doggy-retrieval repertoire. At the top of my voice I shouted “Casey, want a chewy?!?!”.
And Casey, God bless her, magically *poof* appeared from the mystical place to which she had gone. My parents van. That’s right, my lovable adopted dog was so afraid of being abandoned, she decided to make sure she would get home, one way or the other, and had snuck into my parents van. There were muddy footprints on my mother’s pillows to prove it.
So the disaster was averted, and I’m afraid that Kate now has further ammunition in her “You can TOO love a dog” argument. Blast.
I’m not sure what this would be an advertisement for, but darn it, it would sell. I mean really. A cute dog AND a cute baby? Who can resist that? Shameless? Sure. Effective? Yup. This picture comes from the new set of baby photos on Flickr. I swear that some day this will become my blog again, and not Simon’s.
In all seriousness, Casey has been SO GOOD with the baby. She is super curious about him, and just wants to sniff. Oh, and lick his feet. Casey LOVES licking feet, but she is super-enthusiastic about licking Simon’s. We’re not overly enthused about letting her do this, so after one or two licks, she gets sent to her spot. Naturally, she shoots those puppy-dog how-could-you-ruin-my-fun eyes at us, and we (well, I, at any rate) feel horrible.
She’s also jumped into the “protective dog” role, which is so not like her. She makes a big show of jumping up and barking like a fool whenever somebody knocks on the door, and as soon as they are let in tries to punish them by loving them to death. Yeah, you’re a badass, Casey. Bad. Ass.
Peter, don’t read this. And if you do, don’t tell your mom where you learned that new word.
Casey has a new favorite toy. Casey has had lots of favorite toys. There was the Giraffe, which was durable enough to last several days. The sheep, which lasted about 30 seconds. The frog, the Shrek doll, and the terrycloth bone. We don’t talk about the terrycloth bone.
The long and short of it is that Casey goes through plush toys in the blink of an eye. We’d decided that replacing plush toys was becoming too expensive, so Casey had to live with her rubber squeaky toys and her sterilized beef bone.
So for the past 2 or 3 months, Casey has been ABSOLUTELY TORTURED by all the baby toys that have come rolling in due to generous family members, friends, and co-workers. She has been so interested in all the toys, but has been SO well behaved, and hasn’t taken any of them. Kate and I are suckers for our dog, and we thought that all this good behavior deserved a reward. A plush reward. So we spent the $5 on the gator you see here.
It is officially Casey’s new toy. The most amazing part is, that gator has been in our house, and intact, for NEARLY TWO WEEKS. Casey is so cute with it. Late last night I migrated from the computer up to our bedroom, and woke Casey up to move her up there, and I picked up the gator. She was all about taking the gator from me and CARRYING IT UP WITH HER TO BED. It’s like her teddy bear! Or her security blanket! HOW CUTE IS SHE?!?!?!
Wow. When the baby gets here the cute-quotient in this house is going to be so out-of-control.