A Letter to Boogie


Dearest Boogie,

I remember the day you came into our lives.  You crept so timid, and hungry into our back yard.   I thought you were a puppy because you were so small, and I thought you were brown because you were so dirty.     We fed you and cleaned you and you became part of our family.

I remember you first trip to the vet when they said, “She has heartworms.  It is going to be expensive to treat,” and we said, “FIX THE DOG.”

Remember the trip to the Grand Canyon with Mommy and Daddy?   Not every dog gets to go to the Grand Canyon.     We took you with us everywhere and I will never regret that time spent with you.

I remember your second trip to the vet when they reminded us that you could get pregnant, and we said, “FIX THE DOG.”

Remember all the things you destroyed?   Those three sets of blinds weren’t too bad, but that garage door was expensive.  How did you eat the wiring out of the wall?  I don’t know how you destroyed a metal panel from your kennel, but you managed handily.  Oh, and thanks for destroying the curtains, downstairs door and carpet at mom’s house.   That was a nice check I had to write.

That is nothing compared to your capacity to hoard hidden foodstuffs.  Remember taking that whole loaf of garlic bread off the counter?  You hid it in Daddy’s closet and he called it your “Strategic Garlic Bread Reserve”.  That wasn’t quite as bad as the time I had a ten pound sack of raw chicken thawing in the sink and came home to NO chicken.    I found raw cutlets shoved under pillows and in laundry hampers for an unfortunately long time.     I was really amazed that you learned how to open the dishwasher so you could use it as a ladder to the countertop.  You were such a smart dog.

Remember how we loved you SO much that two people who swore they would never have children decided to give it a try.    Dearest girl,  I owe my second and third baby to you.   I know there were times that you were a little jealous, but you were such a good big sister.   I love how even when you were dying that you insisted on doing the stairs every night to put them to bed.


Thank you for sticking with me through both pregnancies and cuddling me at night.   You got up with me every time I had to pee or throw-up and went with me to the bathroom.  I will never forget that kindness my love.

Remember the first time your pancreas flared six months ago?   They said, “We can give her medicine but it is going to be expensive,” and we said, “FIX THE DOG.”

I will miss giving you belly and face rubs.   I will miss feeling your beautiful silky ears.     Remember how you inspired Dr. Pepper to get his own dog and LuckyPup instantly fell in love with you and thought you were his mommy?   I don’t know how I am going to tell LuckyPup about this.   I still haven’t told your sisters.

Remember that phase before having human babies when Mommy wanted to dress you up all the time?  You were so tolerant.

You were our first baby and Daddy’s first dog, and I am pretty sure you were the best dog in the world.


I am sorry that when they told me yesterday that it was liver cancer, that I couldn’t answer, “FIX THE DOG.”   I am sorry if you suffered a moment longer than necessary because mommy wanted to spend more time with you.   I am sorry that it has been hard for you to eat and drink for the last few days.  We just wanted to spend a few more moments with you, precious girl.  I will always appreciate that couple of days where you felt good and chased the gator like a pup and played with me again.

I know my father in heaven and I will see you again sweet puppy.  Say hi to Papa and Sammy Short Legs Daddy and all the people we love and miss.    I will be with you someday.





Turnabout is Fair Play

It has finally come to the point that we have to watch what we say and do around Z because she will now loudly voice embarrassing personal information in public.   For example, a couple of weeks ago, we were on our way to her ballet class and I had pneumonia.   I started coughing, so I took a drink of my soda, and got to coughing so hard that I had to pull over and vomit.  When we got to dance, Z loudly announced to the class,  “Mommy was drinking and had to vomit out of the van on the way over her.”   Awesome kid, thanks for that.

Just yesterday I stopped to move a turtle to the other side of the road (because I am a great person, right?) and the turtle peed all over me.   When we arrived at our play date, Z proclaimed,  “A turtle just peed on mommy.  See that water?  It isn’t water.  It is PEEEEEE.”

So, turnabout is fair play.   Recently, Daddy had a birthday.  Z was given a donut at school for a treat.   She brought it home in a plastic bag and it looked a little weird.  When Daddy got home,  she brought it to him and said, “Happy Burfday, Daddy.  I save my donut for you, but I licked the sugar off so it won’t be too sweet.”    Very thoughtful kiddo.

And perhaps the worst ever happened two nights ago.  I was cleaning the back porch and I look out and both the girls are playing in mud.  It was adorable, except it hadn’t been raining in the last few days.   I said, “hey girls, where did you get that mud”.

“I made it with my pee,” Z proudly declared.

As I am staring at my children, horrified, Baby Bird squawks, “I play in PEE MUD!”  while holding her muddy hands up in the air.

Baths were had by all.  And by baths, I mean they were hosed off in the yard.

So, you see dear daughter, turnabout is fair play.  You have your pee story and I have mine!

The Worst Dairy Queen in the World- A Review

I haven’t blogged in some time, but something finally persuaded me to break my silence.   First,  I must disclose that I am not really a Dairy Queen fan, and my husband unabashedly LOVES Dairy Queen.   Recently we were on the way back from Nashville and had the distinctive pleasure of visiting the worst Dairy Queen in the world.

The worst Dairy Queen in the world is located right off of beautiful I-40 at exit 108.   We stopped in on a Saturday afternoon and it was completely empty.  I thought this looked promising because we were in “Off peak” hours and no one was there.  Boy was I mistaken.

First, as we tried to place our order, the clerk seemed puzzled by exotic items that we tried to order such as: burgers and fries.   I politely inquired as she was struggling, “Are you new?”    She replied with a confused, “No, I’ve been here for four years.”     This was not confidence inspiring.

We sit down and wait on our food.   The initial order gets literally every item we ordered wrong.    I sent it back…. 3 times.     I am not talking about small errors.  I am talking about Not. Even. Close.    Fortunately, they eventually got fries for the kiddos .  Z and Baby Bird declared this the “Best Restaurant Ever”.

At this point, my husband and I have been waiting over 30 minutes for our burgers.   The kiddos are asking for ice cream (face palm).  By now, we are in peak dinner rush and the place is full of customers (none of which actually have food).

Hubby and I start taking bets as to whether the drive thru is any faster.  He decides to go through the drive thru to get some ice cream for the kids in hopes that it will be faster.

About the time he starts through the drive thru, they actually bring our burgers.   Now, the kids are clamoring to go to the outdoor play area.   The outdoor play area is giant concrete pad with two tables.  It resembles a prison yard.  I take the girls outside to play and await ice cream.

My children start playing”dinosaur” with some children in the play yard while I struck up a conversation with their mom “Tina”.   Tina is hugely pregnant with three other children already in tow.  Wearing a tiny tank top, and sporting multiple questionable tattoos, Tina has not received her food either.

Amber informs me that it is no surprise to her that the service is bad.  She apparently went to high school with the manager, Amber.  She told me that half the time she gets take out there and has to call and tell Amber she is on her way back over because they screwed up her order, again.

“And these people want us to pay them fifteen GD dollars and hour?”  Tina asks, “I don’t think so.  They don’t deserve that.  They aren’t like those folks at McDonalds in Lexington.  Those people hustle.”

At this point it has been about fifteen to twenty minutes since my husband entered the drive thru.  He calls me and informs me that there are still three cars in front of him.  Unfortunately it is one of those drive thrus that is built so there is no possibility of escape.    Below, is the pictures of my daughters trapped in the Dairy Queen prison yard waiting on ice cream.


Just one short hour after our arrival, my husband was enjoying his Dairy Queen burger while driving home.



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