You know those are animals, right?

This weekend, Hubs and I took a Walk-cation (known among my non-profit homies as the weekend trip resulting from attenting out of town, early morning fundraising walks*). Between bouts of me being awesome at my job, we enjoyed a good, old-fashion patio lunch.

Allow me to take you there with my words:

Under a bright blue sky, we sat in slightly uncomfortable metal chairs, among other totally normal diners. I had a chicken salad, which was good but didn't have enough greens and Hubs had fajitas that had soy sauce on them, which was really weird when we realized it, but he claims it wasn't bad.

I noticed a couple walk toward another outdoor table with a stroller. It was zipped up, presumaly to keep the baby out of the sun. Both the ma and pa looked unassuming. Black capris, a Twins shirt, iced tea.

Ma unzips the stroller and I saw lots of flowing blonde hair. I figured they had some squirmy, hairy toddler. Interest lost. Back to the chicken-heavy salad.

Then, some movement caught my eye. In the stroller. Oh, dear, that's a really scrawny baby. Oh, no. NO. Not a baby. A long-haired Yorkie. Wait, is that a pink bow in her hair? Is she wearing a dress? Yep. She is. And she has a brother. (How do I know it's a boy dog, you ask?) He's wearing a yellow and green striped polo and has shorter hair. All of this. In. A. Stroller.

It is too much to bear, but I retain my composure. Hubs didn't even turn around to view this majesty. I guess they were really good fajitas.

Just when I think it's too much - Yorkie siblings, in a stroller, at a restaurant, in outfits - Ma pulls out all the stops. She gives the dogs a bottle.

I. KNOW.

It was some kind of weird dog water bottle, but still. Icing on the cake of crazy.**



*Totally not a thing anyone says. Say this to a non-profit homie and they'll look confused.
** To the Dog Parents We Saw - I mean crazy in a good way. Clearly, you don't give a flying flip about what strangers at a restaurant think and I applaud you for that. Keep on keepin' on, Dog Parents.

Also, Happy Mother's Day! This little tale is dedicated to my own Mom, who also dresses her Yorkie in striped polos. You like how it all comes full circle? I do!

One thief, two thieves

Behold the Brothers Bigger, Better, Best, all decked in their holiday finery:

So innocent, yes?

Well. Allow me to rock your world.

Santa brought the cats a little treat, which we promptly hid on top of the fridge.

This is what we came home to:

 A treat bottle riddled with teeth marks big and small. Empty. Not a treat to be found.

 We all knew Trip had these thieving tendencies, but I never expected our innocent little ginger to be such a scheming little nut.

Watch out for these guys.

Trashy

Looks like Niles is more raccoon than cat.
PS don't mind all those High Life cans. We haven't taken the recycling out in a while!

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Niles the newbie

Before Hubs and I headed out on vacation, we stopped into the pet store to pick up some turtle food. We also looked at some cats that were up for adoption. (Raise your hand if you see where this is heading.)

We spotted a cute little orange resuce who had a spunky personality and promised ourselves that if he was still around after we got back from California, we'd swoop him up.

Lo and behold, he was still there and so swoop we did. Niles Pilsner has been home a few days and enjoys jumping in and out of the (empty) bathrub and chasing his bro, T-Bizzle, around.

Awwwwwwww.



You gotta want it!

As a competitive gal with nary a sporty bone in my body, I tend to see the world in points. Ran three miles? You get points. Spaz out and spill a coffee on a stranger? You lose points. There's no logic and I'm not so nutty that I'm charting my daily net points in the mother of all Excel sheets, but it's just the way I roll.

Example: The cat's fifth birthday (last Thursday)

• Remembered the impending birthday on Monday and made plans with Hubs to shop for a gift (gain one point for memory).
• Five years ago, claimed 9/9 as T-Biz's birthdate because it would be easy to remember (lose one point for bad cat parenting).
• Thursday, forgot the signifigance of the day until 5:30 p.m. (neutral points. I'm a tres busy gal who uses French words to sound cool).
• Bought a gift designed to help recipient loose weight (negative forty six points for tactlessness).
• Felt guilty and tossed some little felt mice into the mix at the last minute (negative one point for impulsiveness).
• Posted a video of my cat online (negative sixteen points for crazy cat ladyness).
Food ball from Alexson Calahan on Vimeo.
• So, yeah. The packaging of the foodball showed trim and slim cats frolicking about, burning calories. Clearly, Trip has different ideas.
• Had a good hair day and Hubs made a delicious homemade pasta (noodles and all, children! The man made noodles. He's a keeper.) with a smoked tomato sauce (win back all 64 points for general life radicalosity).

How do you celebrate the graceful aging of the hairy beasts in your life?

Giggle at this

My cat, the honorable Trip Aloysius, a few summers ago when I took him to the cat salon. Do you see the tail pouf? How about the chest hair? Or, my favorite, the leggings. What you don't see is his little beer gut that is normally obscured a bit by fur. Uncovered, it's a force of nature that wobbles and sways mightly. (Health note: T-Biz is currently on a diet and exercise plan to combat this comical feature.) For the record, yes, we will be doing this again. It's a) hilarious and b)practical. The dude sheds like it's going out of style.

Turtle neck warmth

(Wheel of Fortune, before and after...anyone? Anyone? OK.)

Below, the scarf I finished en route to Tejas by way of MO. It's now traveling to Maryland, to my mom, making this the second most well-traveled scarf I have ever had in my possession. Congrats, purple scarf!

Below, Bingo the turtle. Bingo just had a birthday - the big 1-9. Bingo was known as Tennessee for the first 15 years of life. I got him for free when I used to sell classified ads at the paper (oh, the life of glamour I once led!). This was before I Googled red-eared sliders and discovered they live for upwards of 70 years. Happy birthday to my accidentally lifelong turtle partner!

Safari

Meet Scott.

Scott hangs out in our yard (in urban Des Moines) about 80% of the time.
Scott's main interests are eating my trees and hostas.
But he has been known to guiltily munch the lilacs, too.

Ah, nature. Welcome to the family, Scottie.