4 Screaming Poops

On Thursday morning, Allie (Willow's mom) gave birth to five little puppies. Unfortunately, one didn't make it. The other four are happy, healthy and doing well. Three girls, one boy. They range in size from 3.5 to 5 ounces. The three larger ones are black and the runt is either a gray or a chocolate, time will tell.

Allie has learned a great deal about motherhood since her last pregnancy. She has learned that the screaming little "poop" that she laid on the floor is actually a puppy and it needs to be cared for, not flushed. Oscar is excited, and can't wait for them to get old enough to play with, but is not allowed anywhere near the puppies right now, says Allie. Isaac and Sarah aren't allowed too much time with them either, just enough to make sure everyone has been cared for.


It's hard to believe that five of these things fit inside of our little dog!

I have to Tattle on Myself.

Gramama says I have to tell you what I did so she doesn't have to tattle. But you know what? I just can't help myself! Why does she freak out when I do what is natural for a sweet little angel to do? Ok, maybe not so sweet. Ok, not always angelic, but I am little!

Tonight I waited until G went to sleep and snuck into the kitchen where I very carefully took the empty ice cream carton out of the trash. I then cleaned it for G. That's a good thing, right? My mistake was that I went back to bed and snuggled with G. How was I supposed to know that Death by Chocolate ice cream was all over my face . . . and paws . . . and my shirt . . . OK, I was covered in the stuff! G didn't wake up in a very good mood. HMMMPH. If she'd just give me this stuff when I wanted it and I didn't have to sneak it then it wouldn't come as a surprise.

Playing Possum

Note from Gramama:

I can't decide whether having my little monster around is good for my nerves or not. Tonight I went out to the car to get some boxes out and put Willow on her leash and took her out with me. Even a walk to the driveway is exciting for this nut. I was getting the boxes from the back of the car and Willow was running around getting as many smells in as possible. She stopped suddenly and started barking (real barks, not that high-pitched screech that goes right though your brain). She was going crazy! I looked over into the yard to see what she was having this fit about. A medium sized possum was laying on it's side - playing possum. I was trying to get it to go away by pushing it with the box and holding a barking maniac off of the possum at the same time. He would not move! Willow wanted to get it, I'm juggling boxes and the leash of a wild thing and the possum would not move. I finally got it far enough away from Willow that it came alive and took off, crashing through the bushes. Willow got her money worth out off that little walk.

One of the reasons I was surprised at the bark and the fact that there really was something to bark about is that the ONLY time she barks is when there is a ferocious attack of the waving paper. If a piece of paper falls on the floor (grocery story receipts and so forth) in front of the fridge and the fan comes on and moves the paper, this is when she barks and goes crazy. At least this time there was something besides a paper monster after her.