Random Esquire

1.  Ribs are delicious.  But it is gross to watch people gnaw on an animal’s ribcage.  Nature’s protection of internal organs.  It’s a little wrong, right?  I mean, deliciously wrong.  But wrong, right?

2.  Tonight, Besos sent me a text message that said:  “I have sex in the brain.  Your fault.”

I laughed.  I’m pretty sure she meant on the brain.  Because I can tell you, I have not been gettin’ all up in her brain.

3.  Have I ever mentioned that I broke Little Filthy’s tail?  Yes.  He was a puppy and I reached out for his tail, grabbed it and it just…broke.  It sort of popped about an inch from the tip…and now it has a bend in it.  It is already in a curly Q that rests on his back like a little piggy but it has a little extra kink in it.   He didn’t (and doesn’t) seem to care (or even know) but every so often, when I see it, I feel the need to apologize to him.

4.  I have a stiff neck.  I think it may be related to how I slept.  I slept on my side and woke up to find that Little Filthy was behind me, spread across a pillow with his head on my neck.  So, you know, don’t sleep with a dog’s head on your neck.

5.  I am….a jerk.  Not really, but sort of.  I notoriously dragged my feet leaving ‘bachelorland’, I work in the evenings sometimes and I have a few other social activities/commitments that sometimes leave me wondering where my time went.  All of this means that Besos is the most patient, understanding, and wonderful woman to put up with me.

Lately, she’s been watching Kitchen Nightmares. She is addicted.  I sent her a text message a little bit ago and asked if she was asleep.  She responded, “Nope.  Watching Ramsey.  He is a jerk and I love it.”

I said, “Is that why you date me?”

She said, “Nah.  I use you for sex.”

See?  Perfect.

My niece (turned 3 in March) and my nephew (turned 1 in March) are in town, staying with my parents.  I took two days off work to maximize my blog material with them.  My niece does not disappoint.

1.  We took Little Filthy for a walk.  As we were walking along, my niece said, “What’s that hole?”  I looked on the grassy ground surrounding us.  No holes.  I said, “What hole?”  She pointed.  “What’s that hole?”

She was pointing at Little Filthy’s backside.   As you may know, Little Filthy is a pug mix and that means his tail curls up and sits on his back, leaving his exit door exposed.  I said, “Oh…that’s…” and trying to be sensitive to what words to use, I used a word in another language with which she’s familiar.  My niece said, “Ohhh…that’s his butt.”

2.  My sister asked me if I could make a run to pick up some diapers for my nephew.  I said of course.  I was writing down what to get (because, did you know, diapers are numbered?  Like pencil lead?):  #4 diapers and baby lotion.  I said, “Cool. Anything else?”  My sister said, “God, I need a stiff drink.  Or wine.  Get a bottle of wine.”  My sister and her husband are oenophiles.

There is a Wal-Mart just a half mile or so from my parents’ home so I decided to head there.  Right to the back where I grabbed diapers and then over a few aisles where I found baby lotion.  As I walked back toward the front, I saw an aisle with beer and wine.  I decided to at least check out what they had.  I found a Cab that looked decent and grabbed it.

Now, somewhere in the 10 or so yards I walked to the cashier, I realized that there I was…in Wal-Mart walking with diapers and baby lotion in one hand…and alcohol in the other.  My own sense of propriety made me flinch a little but I tried not to give it another thought.  That is, until the guy behind me in line said, “Diapers!  And alcohol!” and the burst out laughing.

Annnnnd my shame is complete.

1.  A friend of mine wrote me an e-mail and warned me of a random topic subject.  She then said this:

“I called the BlueCross BlueShield Ask-a-Nurse hotline today to find out what in the world I’m supposed to do about suspected frostbite on my knee (mishap with a too-cold ice pack) and the nurse asked me if the redness and swelling (repeat: on my knee) was accompanied by vaginal discharge.”

*Blink*

2.  Did you read about this woman?  She called 911 and said she’d been abducted by two black men and was in the trunk of the car with her daughter.

Except really?  She was going to Disney World.

Sounds like something Bev would do.

3.  I considered taking a taxi home from work last night because I was beat and the thought of waiting for the train didn’t thrill me.  But I decided to save the $$ and hoof it like a trooper.  At the train station, I saw a woman I’ve seen many times before.  She was playing an instrument, swaying to the music a little.  The thing is…she reminds me of my grandmother and it sort of kills me to see her.  One day last summer, she was down in the hot train station and after I saw her, I left, bought a bottle of water and re-entered the station to give it to her.  It just seems wrong.  I don’t know.  Anyway… I was glad I walked.  As the train pulled up, I dropped my taxi fare into her box and disappeared into the train.

*sigh*

4.  Little Filthy was booted from the bed last night by Besos.  Apparently, she’s not learned to sleep with a dog on her face.  Or a tongue up her nose.

Little Filthy is not so impressed that Squirrel Wife now gets a small bowl of water to go with her almonds.

Someone please stop me before I have two animals in the bed and a girlfriend who refuses to come over.

I have been a bear for the last week.  Little Filthy had a physical about two weeks ago and last Friday I got a follow up call that something in his blood test indicated that his kidneys may not be working up to par.  The vet suggested getting a urine sample - preferably in the morning during his “first pee of the day”.  I kindly inquired if she had any suggestions on how to obtain such sample.  She mentioned putting a dish or paper plate on the ground while he was relieving himself.

Well, Little Filthy is box trained so he just unzips and lets fly whenever he likes.  But he does typically wait in the morning until after he has eaten.  So after Saturday breakfast, I spied on him as he approached his box and when he broke the seal, I swooped in and stuck a dixie cup under him.  He didn’t notice at first but then he backed up with a whoa whoa whoa look.  I took the sample to the vet for a specific gravity test and then sweated all day, waiting to hear.

It came back low (1.021) and the vet suggested a re-test and if it had the same result, then an ultrasound was next.  She reassured me that Chicago had a good renal specialist.  My mind boggled.  Little Filthy wasn’t acting any different.  He was just as lousy as he always is.

Per instructions, I dehydrated him a bit on Sunday night and tried to get a sample on Monday morning.  But he was on to me and refused to pee if I was anywhere near him and he was instantly wary if I picked up a dixie cup.  Little Filthy flat out refused use the restroom if I was anywhere around.  Collection FAIL.  I called the vet and told her I’d try again on Thursday, giving him a few days to fully rehydrate.

This morning, I snuck up on him and collected the dew from his lily.  Success!  I had it to the vet at 9 and by 9:45, the vet called.  1.048 - nicely concentrated urine.  Who thought I could be so happy about something like that?  I swooped him up and set him on my stomach and let him lick my face until he decided he’d had enough and went to go sleep on my pillows.

*huge sigh of relief*

Rotten dog.

1.  For some odd reason, I can’t seem to eat enough grapefruit.  I crave them.  I eats them.  I noms them.  And still…still I want more.  What makes this so odd is that I probably went 15 years before now without eating one.

2.  Little Filthy has been sleeping on the bed -  both on our sides, back to back.  If we were a couple, we might have intimacy issues.

3.  I had Easter dinner with my parents.  You know what my mother said?

“Do you have my blender?”

4.  Do you ever wonder if you actually remember something or, after you’ve remembered it once, from then on, you’re only remembering remembering it?  Does that make sense?

5.  I don’t get the Saw movies.  I mean, I saw the first one and it was intriguing enough, as far as those things go.  But I haven’t bothered my way through the rest  of them.  There are some things that feel like they stain your soul.

6.  I don’t like movies with kids who see creepy things or sense creepy things or movies with creepy kids.  Basically, creepy + kid = not Random friendly.

7.  I bought binoculars for our trip to Costa Rica next month.  Do you know how hard it is not to look at everything out the window?  I’m positive I’d look like a major creep.  No one sees a person with binoculars looking out a window and thinks: “yup, totally innocent.”

Little Filthy has a bad habit, other than the one which earned him his name.  He likes to dig….but only in one place.

Someone’s butt.

Specifically, he likes to dig if the butt is covered by a blanket.  I fully admit that I do not discourage this behavior because it cracks me up to see.  So when Besos curled up on the bed with a blanket, I pointed at her butt and Little Filthy complied.   First video…digging away.  Second video…he digs until Besos decides that she has had enough and grabs him.  heh.

Okay, found this from July 31 and decided to repost it because the monster kills me.

Little Filthy tried corn today.

A sniff.

A lick.

A nibble.

ATTACK!

Assessing the damage.

Conclusion: He likes it.

So, remember my tail-less squirrel friend?  She first showed up here.  That’s when I discovered that she was definitely a SHE.  We had an October reunion when she buried crackers I’d given her in my neighbor’s flower pots.

She returned a few days ago.  And it has become clear that I’ve spoiled her.  Not because she’s big, mind you.  It’s because now, when she’s hungry, she comes right up to the patio door and stares inside, completely unafraid of Little Filthy’s barking.  She hangs out until I give her something - in this case, some cereal.

She used to be coy and accept dinner only at my insistence.  I got used to seeing her cute little face.  Then she played hard to get.  Then she came back and I was pleased and gave her dinner.  And now…she demands my attention whenever she wants it.

Dude.

I think….

…I think I’m married to a squirrel.

Little Filthy saw his mother last night.  Boss and I went to dinner; it was the first time I’d seen her in months.  One thing hadn’t changed.  She still gets the menu without prices and slides the bill to me when it arrives.

Afterwards, she came inside and I reminded Little Filthy that she was his deadbeat mother.  He, in true kid fashion, did not care and simply rejoiced at seeing her.  He showed her all of his new toys.

More after the cut. (more…)