Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow? Nope, Still Hair!

   I live in the hairiest house in America. I have three dogs that despite the fact that they are short-haired seem to shed hair by the pound. Jamie and I both have long hair (his is to his shoulders now giving him a decidedly roguish look, and mine is past my waist for the first time ever). For this reason I invest in only top quality air filters, I vacuum/sweep more than your average person, as well as spend countless hours pulling hair out of places like drains, hair brushes, and the vacuum cleaner.
  I feel that this is just another sign from fate that Moxi and I belong together: Moxi LOVES hair. She loves to be on my shoulders preening me or at night snuggling under my curtain of hair. I've decided that Moxi was clearly a hairstylist in a previous life: not only does she try to ninja-poop in my hair as often as possible (obviously for the nutrient benefit), but she also spends a great deal of her time restyling my hair. The fact that during the day I choose to wear my hair in a simple bun with a couple of serviceable brown bobby pins here and there clearly offends her delicate hair-styling sensibilities! She sits on my shoulder carefully pulling hair out of my bun in her efforts to make my hair more chic.  Removing all of the offensive bobby pins, scattering them haphazardly.  To the casual observer it might appear that she is just a crazy bird pulling the hair out willy-nilly, but I know that she has a great vision. If I try to tuck a piece of hair that she has purposefully removed, she dutifully pulls it right back out and occasionally scolds me for my impertinence.
  Just today I had cut off a piece of a delicious red apple and put it on her plate. At first she viewed the apple a little skeptically, but then she decided to chow down. And when she had her fill of apple, where to you think she turned to clean her beak? That's right my hair.

Takin This Show on the Road

  I'm trying to sell my house.  It's a great house: the rooms are huge, tons of space, and there are more closets than I can count, but I am in no way under the delusion that I'll be able to obtain a job in Columbia on the doorstep of the school ergo I must sell.  The house hit the market at the beginning of the summer and since then we have had one, yes I said one, person come through the house.  At this point when I do get a job, I suppose we are going to have to rent the place out til the market decides to come back around. 
   Anywho my agent has been trying for weeks to get an "Agent Open House" together w/ the other real estate agents who have homes in the neighborhood.  Everybody is gung-ho about it til the day before when everybody drops out last minute.  So, naturally after having this happen three or four times I didn't count on it actually happening this week either, haha wrong.  My agent called me yesterday afternoon and said everything was in order and good to go.  I smiled looking at the wreckage that was my kitchen, "Ooooh, that's good news . . ." So, I spent the evening cleaning the house to sparkly.  And today we had to vacate the house from 10:30 to 1:30. 
   So, here we go: three dogs, bird (complete w/massively awkward cage), and myself.  I felt like all we were missing was the pear tree.  I loaded in shifts.  We finally got on the road and went over to a friends house to spend the afternoon.  While driving across town, I couldn't help but think how my life has turned into a little three ring circus.  Not hard to see the similarities when I look to my right and there's Moxi sitting in her cage that is strapped awkwardly into the passenger seat w/ the toys, ropes, and treats all swaying with the motion of the car and Moxi happily munching on a pretzel cooing at me occasionally.  Gumbo is in the back seat moving from window to window and drooling on absolutely everything (she has excited drool).  At one point she tried to get in the far back and in her graceless attempt to hop over the seats she became immobilized w/ her belly over the seats and neither her front legs or her back legs touching down anywhere.  So, for a short time the rearview mirror displayed nothing but the disturbing sight of Gumbo bum flailing to get over the seat, tail just waggin away the entire time.  Chiquita is frozen in one spot legs all sprawled outward as if to brace herself, refusing to move, and growling at Gumbo tromping all over and being generally happy.  She is extremely peeved to be riding in the back seat when the rest of the 'common folk' (she's kindof a diva).  While Conker, in an attempt to get to the front, has wedged his little body underneath my seat where he gets stuck for three quarters of a mile til I can safely pull over and remove him. 
   O yes, we are like a traveling three ring circus, next thing you know someone will have pitched a tent and started charging admission.

Godzilla Bird!

Moxi

Conker: Backwards Evolution

   I'm not going to make any qualms about it: my dogs are heathens.  I am probably the worst dog owner ever.  Ok probably not ever, I mean I have seen that heartbreaking show Animal Cops on Animal Planet, but lets just say my dogs are spoiled to the point of rotten.  The discipline they do have is a little iffy at best.  Of course Chiquita is well behaved (I think that goes w/out saying).  They can follow simple commands easily enough: sit, come, lay down, get down.  (Notice how 'stay' was not included on that list as this command has completely eluded them!)  That being said Conker can only sit, and usually only if there is a treat involved. 
   When I tried to teach the little mongrel how to lay down he wasn't having it.  I tried a couple of times putting the treat very close to him on the ground saying the command as this worked for the other two.  In their excitement to get the treat they would flop to the ground.  Conker not so much.  So, then I tried a couple of times to show him what I wanted by putting him in the laying position: hah!  You would've thought I was strapping him to a nuclear weapon aimed at evil space aliens the way he contorted his body so as not to lay on the floor!  Then I tried to command, sweep the front legs, and quickly reward.  I have to say the little devil learned very quickly: he learned after the FIRST time that when I say 'Lay Down' I am going to sweep his front legs so he had better get out of the way.  So, now as you've probably guessed for Conker the command 'Lay Down' simply means 'Back up Really Quick!' 
   So, now even years later I can have all my little doggies lined up in a row and give the command, "Lay Down" and Gumbo and Chiquita will flop to the floor w/ lightening speed and Conker takes three fast little steps backwards: sigh.

Conker layin on the couch w/ Jamie

Come one, come all! Welcome to my blog!

  Congratulations, you've successfully navigated the world wide web and landed safely in my blog!  A noble feat, I can assure you, as not many ever will. :)  This blog is sure to be full of my own personal views and yammerings.  Disclaimer: I would 83% of the time never do what I report doing in my blog as it is 74% of the time misguided and 26% of the time just totally wrong.  That being said I am an avid animal lover and pet owner currently looking for work and engaged to the love of my life, and aside from the jobless part my life is pretty sweet.  I live with my fiance, three dogs, and a bird; i.e. my life is like a circus!