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My Life Between Coffee and Wine

Humor from the Home Front

EVELYN AUCOIN

Evelyn Aucoin

Pets

The Dog (Walking) Days of Summer

07/04/2016 by Evelyn Aucoin 1 Comment

As summer commenced, hope my 17-year-old son would land a job faded as quickly as my aspirations for an instant forty pound weight loss.

By the second week of June, his summer rhythm was set: Eating randomly at least six times a day, playing video games endlessly (after he pounded out 15 minutes of chores), staying up late binge watching Netflix and sleeping until noon.

My husband and I began brainstorming additional projects and chores to address his idle capacity.  One night over dinner, we decided that he should take the dogs for a walk the next day. Perhaps this thought was prompted because we had to buy him bigger shorts due to the six-times-a-day-face-in-the-refrigerator habit. Incorporating some physical exertion seemed like a prudent parenting move.

We knew we needed to set some parameters. This child needs expectations clearly set, since he has the genetic blessing of being able to argue the semantics about anything. He could walk them to and from the mailbox, “check the box” on the list and call it complete with a clear conscious. So we asked him to use his (“his” = the one we bought and pay for) iPhone, and turn on an activity tracker during his stroll. We asked him to walk at least three miles with the dogs, which we reasoned would be less than an hour out of his busy day. He agreed without complaining. That fact alone should have put us on high alert.

The following  evening, my husband asks to see the tracker, and our son opens the app and hands the phone to him. It shows exactly three miles. Passing the phone to me, I, out of habit and being obsessed with statistics, hit the “workout details”  button.

His fastest mile? “1:33” – One minute and thirty-three seconds. WTH?

My face twists in confusion. I look up and witness my spawn spontaneously bursts into a spin doctor. “What mom? Give me that. What did you do to it? It must be broken.There is no way. You are looking at it wrong.” Too bad he did not apply as a summer intern with a local politician – his gift of verbal deflection might have been put to better use.

His slowest mile? 22:45 – twenty-two minutes and forty-five seconds.

I silently gaze at him for a few more minutes, as his spew of verbal diarrhea loses steam. Finally, he succumbs to Catholic guilt and fesses up. He had started the tracker, and then got in his  (“his” = the one we bought and pay for) car, went cruising through our ‘hood, and then left the tracker turned on sitting on the kitchen counter – while he ate a snack after his exhausting five-minute drive – to let the total time catch up with the distance.

He didn’t even have the decency to take the dogs for a joy ride. I am pretty sure he bought their silence with cheese.

The consequence needed to be as creative as his little scheme. Channelling Dr. Phil, I asked myself – what is his currency? What is valuable to him? Instantly my thoughts turned to is his love of sleep. Waking him up in the morning (which I wrote about here: I Swear I Skipped the Poison Apple) is an adventure all on its own. Over and over as school winds down, all he says is “I can sleep as late as I want!”

So for the next 30 days, our dear Pinocchio,  must walk the dogs every day. Since he cannot be trusted, he must be awake, on his own, by 6:45 am so he can walk them before I leave for work. And if he fails to arise, two additional days are tacked on to the punishment period.

captain_tired_2

So far, the dogs have walked over 40 miles and, as a bonus, those new shorts are a little looser. My neighbors have even commented that they see him walk the dogs everyday, and add sweet commentary like, “Isn’t that wonderful?”

Yep, Mr. Wonderful is counting down the days until he can pile up the Z’s before he is back in school. Hopefully we will also think twice before he tries to blow sunshine up my arse. Happy Summer y’all.

Filed Under: humor, parenting, Pets Tagged With: dogs

Objects on iPhone Screen May be Larger than They Appear (part 2)

03/09/2015 by Evelyn Aucoin Leave a Comment

objects maybe larger than they appear

(See part one below for the beginning of this adventure)

Pepper and I were kindred spirits immediately. The second day she was at my house, I went into her area with a bag of dog treats. As I pulled the treat out for her, she came and sat at my feet. That is probably one of the saddest moments in fostering, because it is the second you know she was someone’s pet. I searched Craigslist and lost pet websites, called every ad that could have been her, but nothing. What was her story? I will never know.

I settled into a daily routine with Pepper and the puppies (sounds like a rock band?). There was a lot of googling and texting involved since I was clueless to the ways of gruel and whelping boxes.  My husband just shook his head a lot. He actually put his head in his hands and sighed when he discovered my daily weighing of the puppies, to be sure they were getting nourishment nursing, was conducted on his food scale protected by a paper plate.

Momma was a different story. She was one of the gentlest dogs I have ever known. I would walk her and play with her, and all my trepidation about the breed melted. Some dogs are mean, some are not, and breed may create a disposition, but it does not absolutely define. (#labelbreakers). One of my good friends has two “pigs” as she calls her pitties. I was intimidated by their big heads and massive, square jaws as I went to her house the first time. And then her female pit decided to say hi by sticking her nose all the way up my skirt unnoticed until her cold nose hit my bum. I grew up with German Shepherds and giant Dobermans (think of a Doberman the size of a Great Dane), so I know first hand other breeds who can get a bad wrap.

To market her, my case manager at the rescue league decided we needed a cuter name, so I changed it to Peppi. Peppi the Pit Bull. She should have her own blog.

About six weeks passed, the puppies weaned, and another foster stepped up to help save my marriage. But finding a foster for the “Terrier Mix” was going to be near impossible. I was secretly glad. Peppi and I had bonded, and she was a piece of cake to obedience train, and had never had a single accident in my house (even though she had been entirely in an outdoor kennel for six months prior) so she would be a great dog if we could just find the right home.

We had her picture and story up on the rescue’s Facebook page. Sure enough, one fateful day they receive an inquiry about her. I offered to let the potential adopter introduce her 12 pound, long-haired Dachshund to Peppi at my house. The foster managers of the rescue warned me to be cautious, but I assured them that Peppi was gentle, and I would manage the introduction.

The potential adopter and her 20-something daughter show up with their precious dog, and we introduce the dogs, and chatted while the pooches sniffed butt.

POTENTIAL ADOPTER: “Ideally, I want this dog to go with my daughter to graduate school.  She will be living alone, so I want her to have a dog for companionship, that is sweet as pie to her, but will put the fear of God into strangers.”

ME: “Peppi is a canine missionary. One look at her, and they will start praying.”

That is when I knew it was meant to be. Ultimately all the puppies and Peppi the pit bull went to forever homes. All because I was tipsy on Facebook and love dogs. Never underestimate how dropping your filter and taking a risk can be the best choice.

IMG_0107 IMG_0117

My favorite picture of Pepper/Peppi – and the pile of big-bellied,  puppies that by a happy accident ended up at my house.

Filed Under: humor, Pets Tagged With: animalrescue, dogs

Objects on iPhone Screen May Be Larger than They Appear (Part 1)

03/06/2015 by Evelyn Aucoin 3 Comments

objects maybe larger than they appear

So one night cruising Facebook in early March 2014, an urgent request pops up on the page for Cypress Lucky Mutt Rescue. I had recently fostered a dog, Snickerdoodle, (which is, as they say, another story) so I liked to see the updates of the other misfit, mixed breed, random parade of canines that passed through the rescue’s ranks.

The plea is something like this:

URGENT Help needed – at a shelter in South Houston, a box of newborn puppies, no momma, was dumped on the front step last night. When the workers arrived this AM they had no idea what to do – they are not equipped to bottle feed five puppies! One of the workers took a risk – the no-kill shelter had a six month resident, a sweet dog named Pepper, who was lactating from a hysterical (false) pregnancy.The workers put the puppies in with her, and she is feeding them! But this is an outdoor shelter, and the puppies will not survive (due to the weather /elements) unless we can find a foster to take all six dogs. Look at how cute they are – the puppies even match their foster mom!

And I see a picture of 5 tiny puppies, eyes closed, fragile and innocent, and the big eyes of a sweet momma dog. All are black and white – it looks ike a pile of Oreos.

Did I mention I was past my second glass of wine this night?

One of my many talents I like to brag about, is my knowledge of dog breeds. As I look at the black and white momma, I think what a cute Boston Terrier! So in a moment of dog adoring passion, fueled by Cabernet, I post “I will do it!”

The kudos and the love flowed from the rescue group “Evelyn are you sure? You are awesome! You are a hero!” Yes I am, I think. And then the text messages fly setting the appointed time for the arrival of my house guests the following afternoon.

Oh, did I mention my husband was already asleep?

So I go to bed, glowing with nobility and ego in full splendor.  And the next morning, I open my eyes and think “Oh sh*t!”

I do often cite one of my many philosophies as “ always do sober what you said you would do drunk.” I think when your filters are off (or slightly drowned) a lot of true feelings and insights can emerge. And by living up to your unfiltered ideas and desires, it will help keep you honest. This situation is one of those times.

So at the appointed time, the lady from the shelter arrives after a nearly two-hour drive at my house. She comes to my door, requesting to “see my set up” for the dogs. You know, all 6 of them.

So I take her to my laundry room, and show her the extra-large black wire kennel I have set up, with towels and blankets. She takes a quick look, and says “There is no way they will fit in there”. I think how silly! So to appease her, I demonstrate how I can use a baby gate to make a secure area of the laundry room. With the gate in place, when the doors to the kitchen, garage and wine cellar (don’t look surprised) open, no dogs can rush in or out, and my dogs, Coco and Captain, also are segregated from the unvaccinated puppies and momma dog.

Once the shelter representative was satisfied, I grab a leash and follow her to the car that contains the two large crates – one with momma and one with the pups. She opens the back of the Hyundai, and opens the first kennel door, and reaches inside to attach the leash to Pepper. Pepper is a black and white pit bull, approximately 55 pounds, who immediately jumps out to greet me. I seriously thought I was going to poop my pants right there.

ME: “Oh, I had no idea how big she is.” (Pregnant pause – no pun intended) “Um, what kind of dog do you think she is?”

SHELTER REPRESENTATIVE: Gives the standard rescue league answer in this situation: “Terrier Mix”.

Well, I think, at least I was right about the “terrier” part.  So I take the leash as lady grabs the kennel of pups; who are at least twice the size I estimated through my wine haze when I thought they were snuggled up to a Boston Terrier.

The lady heads to my front door with the puppies, and mama knows where they are, so Pepper literally drags me into my own home – just as Chris, my spouse, arrives home from the office. One of the golden moments of timing that could have never been planned to execute in this manner. So Chris walks through the living room, looks up to the open front door, to see a  stranger carrying a large kennel of whimpering puppies, being followed by a pit bull, who is dragging his wife behind her, through the living room, kitchen and into the laundry room. Let’s just say he was surprised.

It only now occurs to me that I have, in fact, 8 dogs in my house. I fear I have leaped far over the line of being a crazy dog lady. (to be continued…)

Pepper the misunderstood Pit Bull giving kisses

Filed Under: humor, Pets Tagged With: dogs

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Welcome

As the mom of two boys, I have learned that a sense of humor is one of the most important parenting skills you should master. I share my stories (including my missteps) to hopefully lighten the load of parenthood, helping other look for the humor – even if only in hindsight. Since my kids are now legally adults, I figure CPS won’t come after me as I share the reality of raising boys.

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