Oh, loves. My life is crazy right now, crazy good and crazy awful and just, you know, life. I think of posting here almost every day. I have so much to say and I’ve already said most of it and oh, look, is that a cookie?
So I wait to be inspired, for some outside force to knock the wind out of me and make me sit down and share with you. Boy, inspiration doesn’t just drop by unannounced if you just keep sitting here eating cookies, it turns out.
Until today! Oh, today, most ridiculous of holidays. I’m Irish, by the way, through my paternal grandfather, and V is more Irish, through both her paternal grandparents. Most years I would wear green on St. Patrick’s Day, despite the fact that, as a Protestant, I should’ve been wearing orange. The one year I tried that (third grade, I believe), my classmates all pinched me before I could explain. I’m Irish, but I’m not stupid, so I learned.
I should add that 98% of what I know about being Irish comes from a record my dad had by The Irish Rovers, called The Unicorn. (Here they are singing “The Orange and the Green.“)
Anyway, that’s not why I’m writing. First, I’m out of cookies. But second, we have a new dog. Remember when I told you about him? Well, he’s a lovely fellow, Dipper Pixel Languishing. He’s only 15 months old, so he still has some puppy quirks. Mostly, he loves to chew. He and Seven share a large variety of fun, interesting, expensive dog toys, but Dipper does not have time for those. He prefers the challenge of finding unexpected things to chew up.
He likes pencils. Especially the good ones, Ticonderoga, apparently. And toilet paper. Oh, that was a fun day. Yesterday, he found a purse-sized pack of tissues and made it snow up in here. He’s chewed on a few markers, but mostly just chomps up the ends and hasn’t yet gotten the cap off. (I swear, as soon as we realized his hobby, we put everything chewable up and out of his reach. He’s a magician, he is. A wizard).
Thankfully, he has not yet chewed any of my shoes, and he’s adorable, and we love him, so we can bear the cost of some pencils and tissues. And keep trying to distract him with real toys and appropriate chew things, of course.
Today, though, I came home from running errands all morning to find this in the water dish: Which is troubling, sure, because I know I didn’t put blue water or gatorade or whatever this is in their bowl this morning. Considering Dipper, I immediately assumed he’d finally cracked open a blue marker. So I headed into the other room to pick up the pieces. But I found no marker.Then I looked at his face.
“But Jen,” you’re saying, “his mouth looks green, not blue. How could this be?” I know, right?
Near the bathroom door, I found a brand new pack of food coloring that had been ripped open. Oh, man: I don’t know how on earth he got that! I found the bottle of red, intact. (thank god! Can you imagine if he’d broken the red food coloring and I’d found him covered in blood-red fur??) Then I spotted the bottle of green. This one was slightly chewed, but also unbreached. Hm, I thought. I looked at his adorable, stained face again. Then I remembered the water bowl again. And then I found two nearly drained (mostly because they had seeped into the carpet) food coloring bottles. One blue. One yellow.
That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. My dog used color mixing theory to bring you a specially decorated shih tzu for St. Patrick’s Day. You’re welcome.
For good measure, here’s the better-behaved/less Irish dog. Or the accomplice, depending on your perspective.
I’m off to buy more cookies. And some area rugs. Happy day to you, dear readers, whether you’re orange or green or some other color of the rainbow!