Toothies

Sleepy Pup the elder had to go in for a dental cleaning today.

T'other day, I was brushing his teeth, as I try to do with some regularity but also fail at, and I pulled the brush out of the back of his jaw...with a tooth? I freaked out a bit, called the vet, they referred us to a different vet because apparently our new vet doesn't do dental cleanings.

So okay, fine, whatever.

I call the other place and schedule an evaluation appointment and find that it's the vet I loved from our original vet here in Virginny who I had been told retired. (I told her this and she just laughed. Because no she never retired and they're just grumpy she left. Figures. The new vets at that place are horrible, which is why I switched to the new place. But now, if you're able to follow, I'm switching to this one because this vet is amazing.)

Anyway, they poke about, agree that a cleaning is a reasonable thing but that it doesn't look too bad. And we schedule it.

They ended up having to pull five of his teethies.

He is, understandably, a little salty this afternoon.

But his breath is lovely again, so there's that. And I will redouble my efforts to be a better tooth brusher. And maybe, as a fabulous side effect, it'll convince younger boy that brushing is important. (Because getting him to brush is a horrifically bad experience every time. Twice a day.)

The Bird is the Word

This bird is such a delight.

Who knew how much I would enjoy her? Certainly not I.

Of course, because I'm me, I'm really overthinking some aspects of having a bird. Like, "Does she need a friend or three?"

The internet is no help. Everything online says "Yes! Your birds need bird friends! Buy allll the birds!"

And I mean...okay! But also, do I really have to fall down that rabbit hole?

The people I adopted her from kept her as a solo bird for 3 years. She seems very happy. She flies around. She eats. She plays. She sings.

You know, all the bird things.

So then I wonder...if I get her a friend or three, what happens if she hates them? How do I deal with bird fights? I honestly have no clue what I would do. Separate them seems like the obvious answer but then...isn't that the same as having a single bird? Or, in that hypothetical case, multiple single birds?

I've already failed in the "Let's have another kid because siblings make life better." format. My kids spend a lot of time separated. Because, real talk, they basically hate each other. Nothing I do seems to help there. People say, "Oh, give them time. When they're grown up, they'll appreciate one another."

Meh. I don't really hold out a lot of hope. But I guess we'll see.

Point being, I've bungled it with kids, so how the heck do I make the decision with a bird?

So I guess we'll see what we see.

In the meantime, I really love this bird.

For the Birds

Growing up, until I was about five, my parents were pretty anti-cat or dog as a pet. My dad had fish. So many tanks of fish (honestly, five? Six tanks? One was massive -- 100 gallons? And then others of the more "normal" home aquarium size.)

He took great care of those fish and seemed to enjoy it. But fish ...are not amazing pets.

We also had goldfinches. I'm not sure that's a thing people do anymore - at pet stores you really only see conures and budgies and the occasional parrot. But back in the day, finches were always there and we would occasionally add another to our flock, carrying it home in a cardboard box with holes to add to one of the two bamboo cages full of finches. They laid eggs. Hatched chicks. It was a whole thing.

And yet, still not a dog or a cat.

They finally caved and we got a dog. And then I found a cat in our yard and begged and pleaded and my mom must have been having a bad day, because she finally caved and let me keep her. And then about two weeks later we had six cats! (Mom was displeased. So. Displeased. But we gave away all but two of the kittens and then got Patches fixed, so really no harm no foul, right?)

As an adult, we've always had dogs. Hubs is dreadfully allergic to cats or I would absolutely have cats, too. But I do love dogs.

And even so, when a friend posted on the FacePlant about needing to rehome her daughter's parakeet (aka budgie - don't get me started on why they need two names. I don't know.) I dug out my pleading face and asked hubs if we could do it.

He just laughed and said, "Do what you want." (Good man, my husband.)

And now, we have a lovely green parakeet complete with yellow face and the most delightful chirp and song. She's such a joy.

I honestly hadn't realized I missed having birds -- although they always catch my eye at the pet store, but I always figure it wouldn't be the same as finches. (And I mean, it's not. But it also kind of is.)

Regardless, I'm not one hundred percent sure I needed another thing to take care of (because let's be real, she's mine to take care of. As are the dogs. And that's fine.) But I enjoy her so much, it's hard to mind.

Apparently, they can sometimes be taught to talk. So we're working on lots of repetitions of the word "hello" right now just to see if we can get her to speak. Because that could be very fun as well. But if she doesn't, that's fine, too. Her songs are plenty.

(Last night, she was singing up a storm and chattering in the evening. Eldest looked at me, "She's noisy." I frowned. "She's happy." He grunted. "I hope she's not happy all the time." Turkey.)

The More The Merrier

Eldest has been on a campaign for us to get a cat for at least the last six months. Now, I'd be all about that. I love cats. But there's just one small problem with that plan.

Hubby is dreadfully allergic to cats.

Several years ago, I looked into the "less allergenic" cats - generally agreed to be the Siberian Forest Cat. So I dug into that research again and even found a cattery that would, for about $30, send a catted up blanket to rub all over the allergic person to see how they did. (I don't think you're actually meant to rub it on people, but point being, it's an exposure.)

We went back and forth on that. Hubby, as he's the one with the allergy and thus would be the guinea pig, was...not enthusiastic. In fact, he said, "Why don't we just get another dog?"

And well...I mean...he did suggest it.

So on Saturday, eldest and I drove out to Luray to gather up another miniature schnauzer pup. He's six months old. Seems to (so far, touch wood) be reasonably housebroken already. And just a delight. Sleepy Pup the elder is happy to play with him, but there are some pecking order issues that will need working out over the next several days. In all, though? It's been a pretty easy addition.

And really, isn't two dogs better than just one? I think so.

Sleepy Pup and Sundries

Sunday, the Sleepy Pup turned three. He's such a delight. I'm awfully glad we have a dog again, and as much as I try to pretend we got him for the boys, it's a lie. He is my baby and I am his person and that's really all there is to say about it. 

He's the best ever.

There's not a ton going on here outside of the normal state of things. Dad and sister continue to be of concern. Hubby's family is working on keeping up with the drama by having their own implosions. I'm on hubby's case, just a tad, about scheduling something with his sisters (zoom? phone call? smoke signals?) to talk about the what ifs of their parents. With the warning shot across the bow, so to speak, coming from their dad and his heart scare (which turned out to be pretty much a non issue, but still) everyone needs to get and be on the same page as far as what happens if one goes before the other. Especially as his mom would be completely unable to live on her own. His dad would probably be okay for a little bit.

And of course there's the question of what to do about the youngest sister who, for varied reasons real and imagined, has yet to live on her own or hold a job for more than a handful of months at a go with long, long gaps between any attempt at employment.

Hubby and I kind of feel like we're calling "not it" and stepping back, but of course that only works in theory. No one's sure what the reality would end up needing to be.

I know we took a little mini vacation in September, but I'm ready for another already.

No Good Deed

So last week, my sister fell and wrecked her knee. I headed up to her place to meet her at the ER and get her home. Then, seeing as she was on crutches and walking an old dog on crutches seemed harder than it needed to be, I took her doggo home with us.

Said doggo is a sweet old girl - just turned 13 - and very clearly on the decline. Sis and I have been talking for the last couple of weeks about how much trouble the girlie has been having on their walks. She trips. She stumbles. She quakes.

She's old.

Today, my sister was planning to come collect her doggo -- she's getting around well enough and missed her company. Given that doggo was less than impressed with a week of puppy enthusiasm this seemed like a good idea. (Sleepy Puppy has been so! excited! to! have! someone! to! play! Even though she didn't really play.) I did mention that last night and then again this morning, doggo hadn't really seemed interested in eating and that today she was coughing quite a lot and her breathing seemed labored. On that conversation, sister and I decided maybe we'd keep her over night and I'd take her to the vet in the morning, because sis doesn't have a vet at her new place yet and I'm closer to the usual one.

I decided to take everyone upstairs and leave old doggo in the basement to see if having some rest time would help her settle and, well, rest.

After supper, youngest wanted to go down and get some toys from the playroom. We said fine, but make sure to leave doggo alone, because she was resting.

He goes down. There's a moment. Then "Something happened to doggo!"

Hubby and I exchange horrified looks and he runs down and I hear him sending youngest up. So I reinforce that, tell eldest to keep Sleepy Puppy and youngest up here and scoot down to help. Poor doggo is collapsed on the floor in a puddle of watery blood -- from her lungs I'm guessing? It was concentrated around her nose. Labored breathing and then she was gone.

I have never watched a dog die of natural causes. We've always had them put down when it was obvious that it was necessary (we didn't think we were there yet with her, obviously) and that is relatively peaceful. This...was less so. Poor baby.

Sister is, thankfully, not upset with me. Hoping that continues. Because honestly, I don't know that I want to pet sit again for quite some time.

The Joys of Puppy Ownership

Well, today we're off to the vet because Sleepy Puppy has managed to hurt his leg. He's been limping for a couple days now and, rather than getting better (as I've worked to keep him quiet - or as quiet as a puppy with two boys at home can be). So off to the doc we go.

He doesn't seem to be in significant distress (still wants to play, isn't whining, etc), but I can't at this point not at least get it checked out.

Hopefully it's nothing.

A Puppy in the House

There has been considerable debate the last several years as the boys have gotten older about the possibility of a dog.

Hubs has been firmly on the anti side. I have waffled back and forth because dogs are pretty awesome. But I finally landed on the pro side and joined the boys' campaign.

Yesterday, the Sleepy miniature schnauzer came home. He's adorable. But gosh I'd forgotten what puppies are like. He's a nibbly little one.

Still, we managed to keep a surprise from the kids until he came home, and that was fun.

The New Zoo Review

(See what I did there? What do you mean you don't remember this? Would the theme song help?)

Today we trekked off to The Reston Zoo. I'm not sure who recommended it to me, but I'm grateful that they did. This is a lovely little excursion, and it's closer than the one downtown and, in many ways, much nicer.

The Good:

• Getting there is much less traumatic than driving downtown. Plus they have plenty of parking.
• They have this very cool "safari wagon ride", essentially a tractor pulling a cart with benches. But! It goes through a fun loop where you can see ostriches, emu, antelope, llamas, sheep, deer, cows, watusi, zebra, camels, and other assorted animals. They stop the tractor here and there and the animals all clearly expect to be fed, so they swarm the wagon looking for those of you who purchased animal food to share with them. Even if you don't feed them, they will, mostly, let you pet them. How many of you can say you've pet a watusi? That's what I thought! (For a four year old boy, this is pretty close to what heaven will be.) The safari wagon alone was worth the price of admission.
• The budgie aviary. Now, ok, budgies aren't the worlds most fascinating bird and you can find them in just about any pet store. But it's not often that you can walk among them flying free(ish, there is a screen around the enclosure, after all). And they had so many different varieties (color-wise), way more than you typically see in the pet store. Again, a four year old boy was quite delighted.
• They have kangaroos and a kookaburra. (Of course, this means I had the song stuck in my head all afternoon, but it's a small price to pay.)
• And a porcupine.
• The reptile house, I'm told, had some very cool Burmese Pythons (very long and python-y, I guess.) As well as other very exciting snakes. I can't verify that for myself as I stayed outside and enjoyed watching a mother hen and her chicks wander around randomly.
• They have a petting/feeding barn where you can feed all manner of goats, sheep, and pigs (again with the food they are happy to sell you). 

The Less Good:

• It's relatively small and you're not going to find lions, tigers, and bears (oh my!). Or elephants. (The latter was disappointing to the four year old. He does love elephants.) But honestly, you don't get to touch the exotic animals at the big zoo, so it's a trade off.
• It's kind of pricey...especially if you buy food (and really, you need to buy the animal food. I felt bad for the kids who didn't have something to feed the animals - those animals really wanted you to feed them and lavished love (and drool) on those who were able to do so.) Though I guess if you factor in the parking at the big zoo, it might be a wash.

We'll definitely be going back. The chance to pet the animals (and feed them, did I mention that?!) was really a big hit with the kiddo. They also offer pony rides and paddle boats, but we didn't avail ourselves of those extra items (as in extra cost) this go-round. I have no doubt that, in the future, we will.

Don't Remember What You Had, Til It's Back

Lyra is back visiting with us for a bit while my parents are having a stamped concrete patio put in their back yard. My sister has taken their other dogs, and had planned to take Lyra as well, but it proved too much. (And really, five dogs is probably too much under the best of circumstances. When you have a tiny diva dog (my sister's dog), two reasonably diva-like shelties (my parent's other two dogs), and a big goof ball (Orion, who now lives with my sister) it's too much to add an over-excited, ADHD monster to the mix.) So we said we could take her for a bit.

On the allergy front, I can tell that rehoming the dogs was the right choice. Tim is already doing a bit worse from two days with Lyra (and we've got her confined to the office when she's inside, so it's not as if she's all over the place) and the eldest is rashing out every time he plays with her (which he loves to do, and she seems to enjoy as well.)

But beyond that? I had already forgotten how much work Lyra is. (And really, I think maybe it's just her - I don't remember the other two causing this much stress.) First off, she barks. Constantly. Despite the bark collar that I've re-tightened. Also? She jumps. She jumps against the patio door. She jumps against the living room windows (you can reach those from the deck). She scratches at the screens. I mean, I get that she wants in, but at some point wouldn't you think she'd give it up? In her case, the answer is no. When she gets frustrated, she sits down and howls.

Don't think from that that she's being ignored, though! Honestly, she is probably getting more attention from humans here than she does at my folk's house. It's just that she's used to running about in their yard (3xs the size of ours) with her two compatriots. I think the take away is that Lyra is a herd dog, and right now she's feeling herd-less.

Last week I was complaining that I missed having the little pitter patter of dog feet around the house. This week? I'm remembering that while, ok, yes, it's sad to not have pets anymore...it's really nice not to have that extra responsibility. So while it's nice to borrow her for a bit, I'll be ok, I think, when it's time for her to go back to her new home.

Heartbroken

Let me first quickly say this is not about our impending adoption. You may now all exhale.

When we went on our cruise this summer, Tim commented more than twice (probably somewhere around 2 zillion times, in fact) how nice it was to not feel like he needed his allergy medicine. He did great in Vancouver. He did great on the ship. He did great in Seattle. Then we got home and life was, once again, miserable. But we were all suffering...it was fall in Virginia, after all.

Shortly thereafter he went on a business trip to the frozen north (Massachusetts or somesuch northern place) and commented on how it was so nice to not need to double his allergy doses. But it's cold there, frankly I'm surprised people can survive, let alone allergens.

Last week, he went on a business trip to South Carolina. And while there, in the state that, while we lived there, caused him to curse all things allergy-like because they wrecked him every which way to Sunday, he commented how nice it was to not feel like he needed his allergy medicine. And something in me started to shrivel a little and cry "uh oh!" (not unlike a Lemming just before it explodes.)

This past week, he went on a business trip to Baltimore...same thing. No allergy medicine, life is free and delightful and his sinuses were clear. Then he came home. And within three hours of being home he was rummaging around in the medicine drawer and grumbling about his stupid allergies (to which the kiddo helpfully piped up, "We don't say 'stupid' daddy!")

I'm slow on the uptake, I'll admit it. But really, it seemed pretty clear at that point. Either Tim had grown allergic to me and the kiddo, or he'd developed an allergy to the dogs. And so, to test the theory, today the dogs went to live with my parents (though they may split their time with my sister, and/or they'll split them up and one will live at my folks and one at my sister's). We'll still get to see them plenty, but I'm heartbroken. Sure, they drove me a little nuts, but it's hard to sit here in the office and not hear the tapping of nails on the floor as someone sneaks around looking for a spare scritch or something to nibble.

And so we've become, essentially, a no pet household. (He's already deathly allergic to cats. We have the fish, but really...fish are not pets. At best they're mobile decorations.) I know, in the grand scheme of things, life could be a lot worse...but it's killing me just a little inside.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like a Mud Pit?

Long time readers of this here blog may recall that in November (no, it doesn't take much for me to consider you a long time reader. Make it back this week? You're in like Flynn!) we had a patio put in under our deck. The main purpose of this was to do something with the space that otherwise reverted to the natural state somewhere in the icky-ness factor of the LaBrea Tar Pits, though we never have found our pet saber toothed tiger.

After much digging and engineering (more than they originally banked on when they bid the project - which is sad for them, but we got a steal of a deal on a really awesome patio), we had a lovely stamped concrete patio where previously there was just a tar pit in the making.

Enter the bobcat. No, not this bobcat. Or this bobcat. This bobcat. See, our yard is hilly. And rocky. And apparently a real pain to dig in manually. Thus the bobcat (and really, I don't blame them.) Plus, that way they were able to shovel up all the dirt/mud/clay/tar pit and take it away to wherever they take such things. (Do you think there's a really big carpet somewhere that construction companies use to sweep large piles of dirt under?)

And so, as tracked vehicles are wont to do, the bobcat (despite adequate precautions - they put down boards and such for it to drive on) tore up exactly 99.99999% of living grass-like matter from the part of our yard that was not becoming a patio. Creating, in effect, an even larger version of LaBrea than we had originally been faced with.

For those of you who aren't aware, mid-November is not the time to try and plant grass. And so, we now have a really gorgeous patio and a yard full of, on a good day, hard packed, frozen mud. (On a not so good day, lots and lots of mud.) Couple this with two big dogs who like to run and pounce, both actions creating a bit of a digging motion, and you end up with two rather consistently filthy big dogs. And so we rearranged how they got to come in the house to try and minimize the mud that I have to mop, sweep, scrub, and yell out of the various flooring surfaces of our house and have, essentially, relegated them to the office (and it's lovely, easy to clean, laminate floor.) All would be well in the land if Tim was not allergic to dust.

Dust that you can watch collect on our black desks if you sit still enough.

Apparently, dog + dirt/mud = dust all over the room they're confined in. Who knew?

For now, we're researching options (I'm all about the astroturf and to heck with the HOA, Tim is thinking maybe really deep mulch. We'll probably also see about shade loving grass varieties.) and dusting every day. And mopping every day. Sometimes twice a day.

It leaves me to wonder if the cave people didn't just give up and die off simply to avoid cleaning up after their saber tooth tigers played in the tar pits all day.

I'm Just Here To Make God Chuckle

What is it they say, God laughs while man makes plans. Or something like that? We could go the route of "The best laid plans of mice and men..." but then I start thinking of Steinbeck and the poor little puppy that got loved to death by dear old Lennie and, well, really, who needs to think about dead puppies? After all, we know that dead puppies aren't much fun.

So there was the whole "Hey! The new bed is making progress! And he's not sleeping in our room!" Yeah. That. Well, he's still not sleeping in our room, but he's not really sleeping, either. Last night he didn't feel well, and really that's a free pass, I'll give you that, but it meant we ended up sleeping in the guest room because nothing would do but mommy sleeping with him. And, like I said, sick is  free pass. But I am tired.

Then there's an upcoming trip to meet the birth mother of the baby we're hoping to adopt at the beginning of the year. The attorneys were going to meet with us, but one thing led to another and now the meeting is not at their office but at some yet-to-be-determined location and it's going to be a bit away from the office, which means that it would cost a rather large amount of money to have the attorney still facilitate (and honestly, why did I not become an attorney? I would love to charge people $200/hour for my time. Even if all I'm doing is driving to a meeting. Oh. Plus mileage, of course.) And on the one hand, I'm probably ok with not having the attorney there. But on the other hand I wonder if I'm not too sleep deprived currently to be making smart decisions. And oh yes, Tim has three phone numbers I can use to get a hold of him at work. Except he doesn't answer any of them.

Le sigh.

The whole not meeting at the same place thing has also caused me to question taking the kiddo along, except I'm guessing she will want to meet him, too (I would, were the positions reversed), so I'm thinking maybe we could suggest meeting at a park where there is a playground so that he can run and zip and not destroy something. Provided, of course, that the weather goes along with that. It is fall, after all.

Add to that the fact that I started a new class this week and, for the first time, was planning to have everyone call me Dr. Sleepy (Hey, I earned it, I'm gonna use it at least for a little while) and there are two students who have had me before who have already started things out using my first name. (And really, it's not a big deal, but no one else is going to address me as Dr., so I thought it would be fun.)

Throw in the fact that the dogs are on my very last nerve (and, oh yes, I'm tired) and you have a fairly grumpy person on the other end of this keyboard. Do they even make Calgon anymore?

They May Not Live To See Their Birthdays

Puppies. Oh...puppies. Why did I think puppies were a good idea?

I just finished writing a $200 check (well, $218 to be exact) to the heat and air guy because he was out for our annual summer inspection (ok, yes, we're a tad behind on that - we'll do our fall inspection next month) and he found that the dogs, bless their pointy heads, had nearly chewed through one of the wires leading to the outside unit. So he fixed it and arranged it so that it's not as accessible. But honestly.

This in addition to the chewed baseboards and window sills and carpet. (On the one hand, yay, I'll need to replace the carpet a tad sooner than later. On the other hand, I want hardwood and we have been saving, but there's a lot more to save before that can happen. Especially with a new baby on the way and, oh yes, two cars that are happily climbing further and further over 100K miles every day. And really, I would rather take care of the mud pit under the deck (that oh yes, the lovely dogs DIG in at any opportunity) before dealing with anything else because that would make keeping the house clean that much easier.)

I love them. I do. But they need to be done with bad puppy behaviors sooner than later.

Oh, Look, a Squirrel!

If you don't see anything new here for a while, it's because I'm studiously working on my dissertation. Or procrastinating while I should be doing so, though I can't quite justify blogging because then you just had to admit that you're procrastinating instead of working.

Point being, I'm trying to get the stupid thing written so I can just graduate already.

Also? We got a new puppy on Saturday. I think this just clinches the notion that I am certifiable. But she's a cutie. More on her later when I'm not supposed to be working.

My Sweet Puppy

Just when I thought that maybe there was hope on the horizon, I noticed that Cassi's left back leg was dragging on the rare instances she actually decided to try and walk. So instead of heading out to the grocery store I called the vet who asked when I could bring her in. She liked the idea of it being only 10 minutes.

They ran some more blood work and decided on an abdominal xray since she was now finding something in her belly that she hadn't found on Tuesday. Her anemia had gotten considerably worse (from 39 now to 22 whatevers) and the xray just had darkness instead of a happy, bright spleen. (The difference was visible when she showed me the liver, which was happy and bright, and then pointed to where the spleen should have been doing the same thing.) There was a choice - transfusions and fluids to get her peppy enough to make it up to the ER where they could do an abdominal ultrasound and, most likely, a biopsy and/or splenectomy, though the vet cautioned that with her platelets so low, it was a strong possibility that she would bleed too much with just the biopsy - thus the major reason she wanted to have that done at the ER if we went that way as she could do a transfusion but just wasn't set up for a major bleed during surgery. And even then, with the breathing trouble Cassi has been having, she wasn't sure what the anesthesia would do to her.

And so, rather than subjecting my sweet old dog to that, I called Tim at work and we made the decision to put her down. So now she is, as the kiddo says (because this is what I've told him about Meg, because I need to believe it), playing fetch in heaven with Jesus. I already miss my girl, she was such a sweet, wonderful balm to my soul her whole life.

Dog Days

On Saturday night (I think it was Saturday night), Tim and I were getting ready for bed and as he turned out the light, the sound of insanely loud panting filled the air. "Is that Cassi?" Tim turned the light back on and looked at the dog who was, in fact, laying there panting, her sides heaving as if she'd just run a marathon. We went back and forth with her trying to get her to drink some water (she wasn't thirsty), moved her to the bathroom tile in case she was hot (she wasn't), and so forth and so on. Finally, Tim gave up and went to sleep. A few hours after that I ended up moving to the guest room because the snoring and the panting were just not going to let me get any shut eye.

The next morning, she didn't really eat. She didn't really eat dinner that night either. And the panting. Oh, the panting.

So, half way through Monday I called the vet and explained what was going on and they said to go ahead and bring her in. And so yesterday found us at the vet for two hours while they did bloodwork and a chest x-ray and various other pokes and prods. Right now they can't come up with an underlying issue, but her platelet count is crazy low (normal is something like 170,000 and she's at 42,000) and she's borderline anemic (normal is 37 something (thousand?) and she's at 38.5). Before we left yesterday they gave her a steroid shot and set us home with antibiotics. Today they called and are putting her on oral prednisone as well. On the positive side, with the steroids, she's actually eating again.

We'll take her back in a week and see what we can see. Hopefully we can figure out what's going on, though I worry that they'll end up deciding it's something bad (they said multiple times that they couldn't rule out cancer yet), because no matter how much I love my puppy, I'm not putting her through chemo at 13. And while I don't want to have to make a decision to put her down, I think that may be coming at us sooner than I'd hoped.

The New Zoo Review

On Friday, Tim, the doodle, and myself ventured off to the zoo in DC. Part of this was because we paid for a membership the last time we went, which gives us free parking. And so, in order to make this a worthwhile investment, we needed to go at least twice. Thus: check. The other part is that the kiddo loves the zoo.

Now, if you have never been to the National Zoo, you might not realize that it was built on a hill. The incline for this hill looks something like this:

If you are wise, you park at the bottom of the hill, then you walk up while you're fresh, and when you get to the top and are tired and ready to head home, you can still see animals on the way back down to your car. You don't want to park at the top and do the reverse.

The first animals we encountered were members of the ridiculous femaleous family. They are identified everywhere by their unique and distinctive feet, shown here:

Those are not zoo shoes.

After that, our first stop was the reptile house. I braved the enclosure and only had a near panic attack (which is better than actually having a panic attack.) Mostly I kept my eyes straight ahead and, when Tim verified that the cage contained a lizard or crocodile or turtle, I would come over and look. I still ended up getting entirely too many glimpses of actual snakes (and really, any glimpse is entirely too many, and I can think of four different ones off hand that I spied before averting my gaze). Still, there were some neat lizards.

The top one wants you to buy cheap car insurance. The bottom one is about the size of my dog giving her baby (which is about the size of my sister's dog) a ride. It is, in fact, a baby rather than a small one having, shall we say, some fun with a larger one. I know because I asked and because the nice zoo lady pointed out that the baby one is growing and shedding its skin. (You can't tell that here.)  I didn't get a picture of the turtle that looked dead (the zoo lady pointed out that it was in fact moving, just reeeeaaaaallllyyyyy slowly), which is too bad, because it had its mouth wide open and was completely submerged and honestly, it just looked bizarrely fake.

After the lizards, we went to see the zebras. They have a lovely enclosure that is all grassy and delightful.

They were just walking around enjoying the beautiful day. They seemed a bit smug, but then zebras have always seemed a bit smug to me.  We walked on and I realized the reason for the smugness.

You could practically hear the cheetahs plotting ways to get through the fence. They spent the whole time we watched just zipping back and forth along the fence line eyeing what they figured really should be their lunch. Honestly, it seems a bit mean for them to have put those two enclosures right next to one another.

Next up was a visit to the Salvador Dali exhibit.

I call this one "Melting Panda".

But hey, the pandas were out (you can see the other one walking around in the top right corner), which is more than you usually get. Usually you just get a panda tushie sticking out just a teeny bit from the tunnels that lead between the outdoors and indoors. So to see the whole panda was a big deal.

Next up, elephants!

It was time for them to move from one area to the other. They were waiting, not so patiently, for the zoo keeper to open their little elephant lock. (Really, it's like a boat lock, but not in water. And for elephants.) They seemed happy to get through and meet up with the other, larger elephant who was already on the other side.

Finally the lions and tigers (we already did bears, so, oh my)!

Proud papa.

Papa's pride (see what I did there? With the pride? And lions? Oh never mind.) The zoo had lion cubs earlier this year. Much like my collie puppy, the cubs have gotten HUGE very quickly. I was bummed, I had hoped for cute cuddly lion cubs. Instead we got gigantic baby lions. Though they're still cute. (The cubs are the ones in the cave - there are 3.)

Last up the bird house. Because everyone needs a spectacled owl. I don't think that's actually what it's called though the name does have something to do with spectacles and owls in it. We did also see apes and gibbons and a wolf and gazelles, but I didn't take pictures of them. Not sure why.

Last stop was the petting zoo where the kiddo got to pet a cow. Honestly, that might have been the highlight of his trip.

Random Tidbits

• I'm struggling with it being the end of April. Honestly...where is the year going?
• My allergies seem to get worse each year. I'm trying to decide if it's me or the pollen. Maybe both. But honestly, it kills me to go outside these days. (Anyone who follows that up with, "So don't go outside" clearly does not have a little boy.)
• Tim and I sat down and made a list of the various improvements we want to make to the Sleepy abode in the next little while. The two big ones are a patio under the deck and hardwoods throughout the above ground floors of the house. We're currently going round and round about which should come first. 
• Not like either is going to happen immediately - there's that whole "save up for what you need to spend before you spend it" thing that's going on as well.
• But we could probably afford the patio this spring/early summer, whereas the floors are going to need more time to build up.
• Honestly, I wish Congress had to run the country the way we run our finances.
• Speaking of saving up, we've also started on the make a car payment to ourselves each month plan as both cars are nearing the ten year mark and while the convertible is doing great, the Saturn is showing its age (hmmm...Toyta is doing well, GM is dying...go figure). So there's probably a new car on the horizon - though hopefully that's 2 or 3 years out.
• But that means I get to play with building cars on the Internet for fun. Tim mocks me, but I find it very enjoyable. That said...I still can't really find a car I like that balances having some room for toting things with not costing an arm and a leg in gas each week. Because I don't think gas prices are going down anytime soon.
• I thought this was interesting.
• Orion (the 5-month collie puppy) is a sweet, wonderful play machine. But he is huge. And honestly, I think he grows while you're watching him. It has to stop eventually, right? (He's also beautiful and just a love, so even if he never stops growing it's ok.)
• The doodle has gotten really excited about baseball. I'm not really sure how (or why). Anyway, owing to the new interest I got him a little t-ball set from Target today for $14. I'm excited to set it up after nap time and see if he continues to enjoy it. 
• Mom and dad have movers at the old house today to pack up the remainder of what we didn't move (so all the books and non-fragile things...cause I come by my book sickness honestly, and no one wants to move those books voluntarily). I think by Friday they should be completely moved to the new house. Not that it'll be put away etc., but at least it'll all be located in the same zip code. Then just a few fix ups at the old house and it'll go on the market with fingers crossed for a quick, full price sale.
• It's nice having them close by. The doodle and I can stop by when we're out and about for 5 or 10 (or 30) minutes and still be home by nap time.

Possible Slogans for Our Fish Tank

• We who are about to die salute you
• Prepare to swim with the fishes
• Welcome to the fish tank California
• And Then There Were None
• So Not The Age of Aquarium
• We'll Teach You How To Get Flush(ed)
• Next Step: The Afterlife

You get the idea. We are down to 3 fish now. 2 from the original batch, one new one. One of the original ones is looking a bit sad.

Fish tanks are not for the faint of heart (and why is it that I'm the one who has to deal with the "Mommy, that fish isn't moving" notices, even though the fish was clearly dead when Tim was up?