Hot Dog!

Our dog has been on his last stretch of life for a while now. Instead of buying him healthier food and treats we make sure every night he gets some kind of delicious left-over mixed in with his kibble. I'm convinced this is what keeps him going.

The other night it was Rio's turn to feed Max. He added a heaping amount of dog kibble to the bowl then opened the fridge to find a suitable left over.

"Dad!" Rio screamed hanging from inside the open fridge door. "We don't have anything for Max! Amaya ate all the left-overs!" he accused.

"I was hungry," Amaya shouted from her room.

My husband walked into the kitchen and peered into the fridge over Rio, shuffling food items around.

"Here, give him a hot dog," my husband suggested.

"A hot dog!" Rio's eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't feed a dog, DOG!" Rio uttered in disgust.

My husband laughed, "Dude..it's okay. Hot dogs aren't made from dogs."

"They're not?" Rio questioned. "What are they made from then?" he asked.

"Different processed meats," my husband told him.

"Oh, okay," Rio said. "Slice it up."

I don't know what's more disturbing. The idea of feeding a dog: DOG. or that Rio has been okay with eating DOG all this time.

Whose Dog Peed on my Lawn?

I've been watering the brown spots on my lawn for the past two weeks like a crazy person.

"Come look at this!" I demanded, dragging my husband to the front yard to inspect the grass.  "Someone's been letting their dog pee all over our lawn."

"What the..." my husband stated.

"There's one...two...three...four...five," I paced across the front yard pointing each one out. "There's like 30 brown spots!" I ranted.

"I wonder which neighbor it is?" he asked.

The kids immediately shared their suspicions. They accused the old man down the street with the two chihuahuas, the lady who jogs at night with her black lab, another neighbor with one white dog and one brown dog, and a wiener dog that was ruled out because it's too fat to waddle up the grassy slope to pee.  All other dogs and owners however, were suspects.

"When I find out who's doing this, I'm walking Max down to their house so he can pee on their lawn." I declared.

The kids helped by setting up look out posts to catch the peeing perpetrator. 

"DOG!" Rio yelled. "Don't let your dog pee on my moms grass." Rio warned people when they passed our house, as Amaya ran to the front corner to watch dog and owner until they were clear of our property.

"Nope, it's not them!" Amaya reported.

Then while watering yesterday I noticed something odd in the center of one of our many dead patches of grass. A shriveled up, dead weed. That's when it hit me. I called my husband out front to discuss the yard.

"You know the dogs that have been destroying our lawn?" I hinted.

"Yeah, what about them?" he asked.

"It's not dogs at all," I informed him. "It's you!"

"Me?" he asked as if I was accusing him of peeing on our lawn.

"A couple weeks ago, you sprayed weed killer around the sidewalks and planters..." I tried to trigger his memory. "Did you happen to use it on the weeds in the lawn also?"

"Oh, that's right I did," he admitted, laughing. "I forgot!"

"You do realize it says weed and grass killer on the bottle?" I asked.

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Apparently the joke's on me.

A Boy and His Dog

A boy and his dog...does anything else need to be said?

It isn't something we planned  8 years ago when we bought our dog.  That one day our dog would get sick and we might have to make the heart wrenching decision to let him go.  What will we tell our children when they ask why he didn't come home from the vet?  That's the question we're asking ourselves these days.  Our dog is sick, and we are spending bundles of money on vet bills trying to slow the progression of his disease and extend his life.  People who don't understand, ask us why? 

 A boy and his dog...isn't that reason enough.