Not Just Another Day, Not Just Another Dog, Not Just Another Dusty Chicken…

Grooming day!!! The day only day I am dog free and I can go eat at a restaurant that doesn’t allow dogs and get major errands done. I needed furniture. Specifically a sofa. My bony butt can’t handle the willow bench any more that has been the only seating option since I moved months ago to Mexico.

I first headed to treat myself to a lunch at a canine free establishment the Spoos never let me go. I scarfed down a serving of green bean and baby potato salad in an amazing vinaigrette and a steak sandwich with grilled chipotles. Then I remembered I was really craving the chicken mole at another pup banned place. Oh well – the next grooming day.

I went to a few furniture stores before I made the command call that I was going to have to go with the custom made sofa because nothing was ringing my bells. But, in the process I found “the bird.”

The Ajijic Plaza has this one story tall kinetic bird sculpture that I have loved. You can kind of see it in the picture picture of the square in the bottom near center. Not long ago I saw a smaller one at a sale but it had been purchased. I was bummed.

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I believe the bird’s head is missing. That is quite okay. I lose mine a lot. (I could not find the name of the photographer to give them credit. If you know who took this, let me know so I can give them their due.)

But what did I find at one of the furniture stores??? I have named him Cromwell. He is temporarily placed by my table sold to me by a couple because they were moving back to the States. I had gone to their place hoping to buy their sofa 🤪

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Cromwell the bird. I have not named the guy who looks like he is constipated or the horse. I’m working on it.

Celebration of finding my rocking crane called for chicken mole. That’s right. I ate two lunches in a three hour time period. Gangstas need that chow. My solution to my bony butt on the bench is to fatten up that fanny

I still had two hours before picking up the Spoos. I decided to go check out an area I hadn’t explored yet. When I arrived in Ajijic, someone told me it was impossible to get lost. If you went too far one way you hit the lake. If you went too far the other way you hit the mountains. I ended up lost…

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Here is the lay out. Mountain (I call them hills as I have spent my fair share in the Rockies,) to the North. The lake to the South. The lake is 50 miles long so I have yet to get lost and ended up on the other side of it.

…on the opposite side of the mountains. I have no idea still after staring at google maps how I did it. But, all of a sudden I noticed the mountains to the south. Ummm – the lake is always to the south. Time to pull over and figure out if Waze knew Mexico. I pulled up at the groomers right at 5:00 pm and still confused as to where I had been.

The dog’s groom looked great. So that wasn’t going to last. I got home and they went into zoomies. Sherlock went into one of his spin jumps just as Shasta hit him full force. Sherlock slammed into the edge of the steel driveway gate where it rubs on the bushes when it opens. Hence the green line on Sherlock’s hip. He went down with a horrid yelp.

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Speaking of bony butt… A few have messaged me concerned about Sherlock’s weight. He is four years old and has always been skin and bones.  I have tried everything and he has been through countless vets and testing and he has always been extremely healthy. He eats higher quality food than I do and a lot of it. If you go to the movie section of this blog you will see he burns two calories for every one he eats. I promise this is not an abused or sick dog. Just ADHD (emphasis on the H,) deluxe.

I ran over, picked him up, put him in the car, loaded Shasta, and headed to the vet. Sherlock laid still during the short five minute drive. Sherlock laying down is never a good sign.

I got to the vets (where they are also groomed,) jumped out, ran in, and told the vet Sherlock was in the car and couldn’t stand up. She went to the car with me and when I opened the back hatch, Sherlock was spinning and jumping in circles like he always does. If it wasn’t for the stain on his back end I’m sure she would have thought that I was one of the worst over-reactors on Earth. She poked it and moved it around and said to see how he was in the morning. Darn dog!

And this is where the dusty chicken comes into play. There is a roadside stand where a man grills nothing but chicken. The locals call it dusty chicken because it use to be on a dirt section of the road and the passing cars coated the chicken as it grilled making a most yummy crust. It is like crack – meat meth. You have it once and you are hooked

It was a dusty chicken that the Spoos stole off the counter after their their last groom. I was unloading everything and made the mistake of bringing the chicken in first. Spoos are smart. Together their IQ adds up higher than mine. Unless I put a roasted chicken in a vault, it will be theirs. Now, let me add that the dusty chicken comes with some roasted hot peppers and onions. When I finished unloading the dogs were not to be found. I discovered them in the back bathroom like this:

It was clear which one ate the one missing pepper and that they had both shared in the chicken. All that was found was the two onions and one remaining pepper. One thing that was not remaining was the plastic bag the chicken was in. Crud! One or both ate the plastic along with chickens and bones.  I called the vet who recommended giving them white bread and watching them for signs of a problem. They got their bread and so did I as now toast was the only thing left for me for dinner. That night I wearily crawled into bed after being on poop vigil. On my pillow was the inside-out chicken bag. They put the evidence in the last place I would see for the day. They knew my anger would be long gone by then. “I love my dogs, I love my dogs, I love my……”

So fast forward back to the day Sherlock hurt his hip and Cromwell came into our life. The vet/groomers is right across from the dusty chicken stand and the smell has lured me in every time we left grooming or vet care before. But since they ate it – bones and all – last time I had decided there would be no pollo for them that as I had left grooming the first time. But, as I looked in the rear view mirror as I backed out of the vets after his “injury” I saw Sherlock standing with his leg up looking miserable. It might not have been broken but he was in pain. He needed chicken crack to make himself feel better. I stopped for a chicken – minus onions and peppers.

It was only after we got home and dug into our treat that it hit me he was holding up his front leg which he has done since a puppy as one of his cute begging poses. I was sure I had been played.

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“Look into my eyes. You are getting very sleepy. Now count backwards from ten. When you get to one, the bacon will fall from your hands and you will have no memory of making bacon.”

Regardless, after my two lunches, I still enjoyed my share of the score. Birds win the day!

Update:

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I have named the constipated guy Congress. As showy as he is, he hasn’t done a thing since I have known him. And the horse is named A Horse With No Name because I’m just not all that clever these days. 

What I Learned From My Dogs Today – I’m Not Saying Your Child Looks Like a Dog…

Momma Mim being allowed to blog today:

The results are in.  The average dog is as smart as the average two year old human.  So my advice today goes for bare skinned, as well as fur covered, kids. Put this to memory: if you don’t want to do something for the rest of your life, don’t do it even once for your child/dog.

I learned this the hard way with my two footed child. I made the mistake one time of cutting his sandwich in triangles instead of rectangles. Now, I am destined to stress over geometry every time I make one. When I am in an assisted living retirement home and my 65 year old son comes to visit, I will still have to make sure he is not served anything with four sides – three it is for eternity. If you do it and they like it: game over.

No squares

It hit me this applied to dogs as well when I had my dearly departed Shandy.  Shandy would sit at my feet every day while I put on my make up.  One day I decided to let her smell my blush. It was so cute how her little nose went into action. The next day I let her smell my lipstick before I put it on.  Then I got a new makeup brush and, without thinking it through, used the old one and tickled her nose with it.  The monster was born. From then on out, even if I didn’t have time to put my own makeup, hers had to be done. She wouldn’t go pee until she had her NARS bronzer on.  And if she didn’t get to smell check my lipstick for the day she would pitch a fit.  I will admit I would give anything to put a dot of foundation on her nose just once more, but at the time it was heck.

shandy nose

She was such a diva.

bad hair

My current problem I created by not following my own advice involves coconut oil.  I have used this on my face as a moisturizer for decades.  Lately, a blog made it’s way around touting all the great uses for it. The one that caught my eye was that it was good for dogs. So, one night after rubbing some into my cheeks, I called the dogs over to see if they would like the taste. Uggggg. My nightly routine for the last few months is now this: brush my teeth, wash my face, and put coconut oil on my face while being stared at, give Sherlock the opportunity to lick any remaining oil off my fingers, feel sorry for Shasta not getting any and scooping her out some, give into Sherlock’s whining because Shasta got a scoop and he only got a lick and get more for him, give into Shasta’s whining because Sherlock got to lick my finger’s twice and she only got to lick it once and get more out for her, cave to Sherlock’s pestering because Shasta….. you get the drift.

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And it has to be off my fingers. I got a spoon but did not want to put the spoon back in the jar after the dogs licked it and they had no patience waiting for me to wash it. I then put it on little plates, but the idea of me still having a remaining molecule left on my fingers made the plates mute. Now I scoop some with a spoon and let them lick it off my digits. Everyone is happy. Well, except me. I resent the fact every night I am required to become a coconut flavored lollipop.

So the moral of the story is: think about your every action when it comes to your pups/offspring! It may only take a second and not seem like a big deal at the time, but if you do something for your babies once, the 7,529,462 times you will have to repeat it will wear you down.

And for the record – child approved….

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Poodle approved….

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