Someone’s in big trouble.

Dear Santa,

Mom said I was in big trouble and I wasn’t getting any bones for Christmas. She said I was horrible and then said words she isn’t supposed to. I guess she was “extremely provocated” like it says in Mom’s book, but I would like to explain. (The book has to do with killing mockingbirds, which sounds tasty so I would take one of those instead of a bone.)

Mom says we have to go in our crate when no one is home so we don’t get into anything that could hurt us. I am a big boy with a big growl, big teeth, and a big bark. Nothing can hurt me. That’s why it’s my job to protect the house. I was only trying to help. I promise I’m a good boy, no matter what words Mom is still saying under her breath. (I also have big ears and I can hear her even when she is stress-cleaning her bathroom. She wouldn’t have to do that if she just went outside like we do.)

Anyway, Dad went to bed. Sometime after Andy Griffith, I heard something in my yard so I had to leave my crate and check. It’s not my fault if I needed to move the blinds. It’s hard to see with blinds and a curtain.

It’s easier to see if these aren’t here.

Next, I tried the doorknob. I know how to open the front see-through door. The potty door doesn’t open the same way. I tried to use my teeth but that didn’t work, either.

I was so happy to see mom and, at first, she was happy to see me at the door but then she saw what I did and that’s when the bad words started.

TL:DR — I guess I need new blinds and a curtain rod for Chrismas so Mom is chill again. She says the door still works so that is okay.

Love,

Haas

Tis the season for stress and tests.

It’s testing time! Finals begin tomorrow for the human teens in my district. Only a few days are left before celebrations begin. Kids start sleeping again while teachers can breathe and have normal-ish blood pressure. Percy is “chill,” though. No more tests or class for him. While he didn’t graduate from group obedience classes, I’d say he has the skills to be successful in the family. He is currently relaxing with his blanket on the floor. We should all be so calm.

I love learning and try to find something new every day. Sometimes it is a line from a beloved book that I understand just a little more. Sometimes it is a new recipe. Sometimes it is something as simple as learning what new shows have been added to Netflix. Today I will do a little research on de-stressing.

Here’s what I know:

Dog snuggles are a great way to calm down, provided those dogs are on the proper food and haven’t broken into the kitchen and then into the ranch dip. Regular readers can probably guess who the culprit was and I am ready-ing the air freshener.
Few dogs are allowed in the school so I can’t use that for my kids who believe semester finals are the key to a successful life.
Semester finals are important but not at the expense of your health.
I can’t afford enough chocolate to feed all of my kids for the duration of finals.
I really like lists.
I am easily distracted and I was intending to write about stress relief techniques.
One of my co-workers gave me candy today, but I left it at school.
I have candy for tomorrow!

Was there a purpose to this post? Oh! Now, I remember (reading back through helps). I have learned today that I need more stress management techniques and definitely some to share with my darlings.

Meri, Meri, Quite Contrary…Quit tormenting me.

Meri is one of our original terrible two on four feet. I don’t write about her much because I prefer the dogs. Before Meri, I was a cat person, but it is only 90% her fault that I’m not crazy about her.

When the husband I were still newly together a hundred and a half years ago, we adopted a cat, Bosco. He was my baby and spoiled rotten until I became pregnant with the Mayor of Angstville (Oldest Child). Then, Bosco spurned my company and remained annoyed with me for about three and a half years. When Youngest Child showed up, all was forgiven as she was his baby so I wasn’t quite so awful. Those two were thick as thieves until Bosco’s stroke and subsequent passing.

Between the husband’s cat allergies and my grieving heart, I didn’t want another cat, at least for a while. When we went fishing at a trout park that following summer, we came home not with fish but a cat. This is the 10% that isn’t her fault. Meri didn’t choose her timing.

The kids fell in love with the pretty beggar who deigned accept their offerings of cheese and lunchmeat. Despite my objections, she came home with us and now bears the name of the trout park. Meri loved Dad and tolerated the kids. She and I clashed immediately. Meri hated when I was on any form of technology and demonstrated her displeasure by sneaking up and biting the back of my head. It happened more than once, to the delight of the other humans.

I imagine Meri is contemplating my destruction in this photo.

It’s been a few years now and the hag and I have come to a bit of a truce. I let her out when the boys are free and she gives warning before trying to impersonate a zombie and eating my brain.

I have noticed that Meri’s relationship with the family is quite different from the boys and our previous feline. We all have full conversations with the cat and seldom are they happy. It’s not unusual to hear an argument from the other parts of the house. HOw a six-pound cat gets such volume is impressive. Most of them consist of something like this:

Human: You’ve already been fed twice today. NO. MORE.

Meri: No!

Human: Yes, you have!

Meri: NO, MROW!

Human: Too bad, Hag.

Meri: NO! (then sounds I am pretty sure are profanity)

Human: Do you want to go out? The boys are out back.

Meri: Merow, no, now, yowl

Cat heads out the front door and all is peaceful…until the boys come back in.

Meri is pretty, though, and has the softest fur I have ever petted. I admire her self-confidence. I don’t like her. She’s terrible, but she isn’t going anywhere.