{"id":553,"date":"2011-01-15T18:12:00","date_gmt":"2011-01-15T23:12:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/saturday-january-15-2011\/"},"modified":"2011-01-15T18:12:00","modified_gmt":"2011-01-15T23:12:00","slug":"saturday-january-15-2011","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/saturday-january-15-2011\/","title":{"rendered":"Saturday January 15, 2011"},"content":{"rendered":"

And Liam being interpreted ……….<\/span><\/font>

Last week David called me around 10:30 in the morning saying, “How is your day?”<\/span>

Great.<\/span>

“Well, it’s about not to be.”  <\/span>

Don’t you just love an opening line like that?  Warms you all the way to your toes.  Wait, didn’t I just use that phrase in yesterday’s post?  Told you winter is getting to me.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/a>

Apparently after an entire year of not noticing her invisible fence collar battery was dead, Miss Goldilocks decided to go exploring.  And just because it would be the logical choice, she wandered over to our neighbors who think dogs should experience heaven on earth.  I am not a dog lover.  I’m not a dog hater either.  I just am not one of those people who kisses animals.  Or who thinks they belong in my house.  Or who buys air conditioned dog houses.  It’s just not me.  I don’t mind if you do.  But please don’t mind if I stop at general care and kindness to our dog.  <\/span>

We bought Goldi for Adam’s first birthday.  They weren’t the best match.  Rambunctious her and slow-moving him.  But as the years went on and she calmed down, they’ve started liking each other a lot more.  Liam loves her.  He’s still little enough to sit on her when she’s lying down and he snuggles up to her and yes, sometimes gives her kisses.  “Doe-di i doe dozy,” he says happily.  She really is a pretty dog.  And she really is cozy.  I love feeling the warmth of her when she stretches out by my feet when I sit on the front porch.  I like coming home and seeing her snuggled up on the front porch in her bed waiting for us.  But other than that, she’s mostly the men’s dog.  David is the one who takes care of her and the only one she really listens to although she’s not a bad dog at all.  <\/span>

But now she was gone.  To the neighbor’s dog heaven.  Their dogs went crazy when she got to their dog so they opened the door.  Goldi ran in.  Their dogs ran out.  Great.  Just great.  And now it’s my job to pick her up.  I headed over to their house and stopped just outside the gate.  Nick brought her out and I suddenly realized I was bribeless.  Brilliant of me.  She jumps into the back of David’s truck when he tells her to, but remember she doesn’t listen to me.  And this is the car, not the truck.  <\/span>

Nick finally bodily lifts all 60 or 70 pounds of her into the back and kisses her seventeen times as he says goodbye … and gives me words on her lack of grooming.  Tell David.  Not me.  <\/span>

I’ve had bad experiences with her before.  She did a terrible number to my shoulder when I was 8 1\/2 months pregnant and I didn’t want her dragging baby chicks around in her mouth.  I wasn’t about to risk having her run over me and head straight back to where we’d just come from so I backed straight down the steep hill as close to the kennel as I could.  Gingerly opening the back door three inches I eased my hand in and grabbed her collar.  And just like I expected, I dragged, shoved, pushed and prodded her the two feet into the kennel where she’d have to stay (and was determined not to be) til David got home with a new battery.  <\/span>

Happy to be successful, I jumped back into the car, pulled the gear stick into drive, and hit the gas.  rrrRRRRRRRRRrrn.  Oh.  Back up two inches.  Tried again.  More spinning.  Four tries later I realized I was going to tear up the yard and never get up.  Visions of the woman who drove all over our yard in the middle of the night because she used our driveway to turn around and went down over the hill in the dark flooded my mind.  I could still hear her cursing as she spun and spun and spun and spun tearing up our grass at 3 am on a Saturday morning.<\/span>

Finally I got Liam out of his car seat and went inside.  It was my turn to do the afternoon school run and I was not vehicle-less.  And I could. not. get hold of Kristina.  I tried her home phone.  Her cell phone.  Home phone again.  Great.  After lunch when the grass had dried off, I parked Liam on the sofa by the window and went out to try again.  Every maneuver seemed to take me further down the hill until finally I said to myself, “think like a man.”  So I did.  I think.  Because it worked.  (Never mind that it took six more tries.) And that’s not normal for my very woman brain.  I was so happy to be up that hill.  <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/a>

Liam came flying to open the door, “Mommy, MADE it,” he said.  And all afternoon and evening and all the next day and part of the next he said the story I just told you about.  Only his version is the one you heard yesterday … and the one that’s hard to interpret. <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

And Liam being interpreted ……….Last week David called me around 10:30 in the morning saying, “How is your day?”Great.“Well, it’s about not to be.”  Don’t you just love an opening… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-553","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p39ynQ-8V","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/553","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=553"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/553\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=553"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=553"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=553"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}