Thirty Days of Thanksgiving: Day 14, Fred

I am thankful for my little Fred.  Also known as The Ferd, Freddy Bear, Ferdnando, NanaBanana, and Banana Head.  And I don't think I would be wrong in saying that Fred is thankful for me, too.

Fred started out as a foster.  He was from a puppy mill situation, and when we got him he weighed just over seven pounds (he weighs over thirteen pounds now).  His paws were in terrible shape, he had lost about half of his teeth, and he was terrified of everything.  People, other dogs, grass, the outside, leashes, big bowls, the couch, steps.  Everything.  The plan was to keep him for a little while, get him housebroken, get him used to people, and then send him off to live with other great people who would love him and take care of him.

Oh, the best laid plans of mice and men.

I fell head over heels in love with my little Ferddy.  And he fell in love with me.  He still loves me best, and that's okay with everyone.  He is far from perfect, still isn't completely house trained (when we are gone for long periods he wears a weenie wrap), and continues to avoid the grass in the backyard.  Since he is missing even more teeth, it takes him a long time to eat.  Sometimes his lip gets caught on one of his teeth and he looks like he is impersonating Elvis.  He has a bit of "shaggy mutt" about him.  He doesn't really like other people.

When he wants to play, he jumps straight up several times.  It is like watching a dog doing a Tigger impersonation.  He doesn't play with toys unless Brett has the toy first.  He needs steps to get on to the bed, and we (of course) provide them for him.  He is usually the last dog trailing behind on a walk.  He has to sniff everything on a walk, and then pee on it.  He is so slow about it!  If you can't find Fred, look under a stack of pillows.  He's a burrow-er.  He loves cuddling with his Miss Peep (me).

I love my little guy, and I'm very thankful for Fred and for the organization that saved him--Small Paws Rescue.

Thirty Days of Thanksgiving: Day 13, Brett

I am thankful for Brett.  Brett is our second dog.  I found Brett on a pet rescue site (BFK) while we were in San Diego.  We decided that Frosty would like a companion and, truthfully, I wanted a cuddly dog.  A lap dog.  And dog that would sit by me on the sofa.  (Frosty is great, but a lap dog he is not.)  So I found Brett.

Now, Brett is a little funny looking.  He is a Bichon Poodle mix, which means that he has a really skinny body on top of really long, skinny legs.  His head is a little round, and his snout is a bit short.  But he has the sweetest little eyes.  And he is such a cuddler.  Everyone loves Brett.

When we first set eyes on Brett, he was staying at a foster house.  He was standing behind the foster person, and didn't even bark, just looked out at us.  He was so quiet.  Little did we know.  We spent some time getting to know Brett's foster people, and they determined that we were the right people for Brett.  Apparently, they had determined that two other sets of people looking at dogs were not the right fit for Brett.  Brett needed some patience.  He was found wandering on the streets of Riverside, CA.  They weren't sure what color he was, that is how dirty and matted his fur was.  He lacked some social skills.  He wasn't housebroken.  But we were in love.

Well, we brought Brett home.  He came with the name Winston, but he wouldn't answer to it.  I told Mike that if he answered to Brett (after Brett Favre) then we could change his name.  Mike called it out, and our little Brett ran right to him.  We joke now that it was because it sounds so much like "brat" which is probably what he was called-- a lot.

Brett loves Mike.  Mike is his Peep.  I am merely the Veep (Vice Peep) and sometimes am even the Seep (Secretary to the Peep).  Brett loves everyone, mostly, but really really really loves Mike.  Brett loves squeaky tennis balls and barking at squirrels.  He walks very quietly, and sometimes you will turn around he will be behind you and you had no idea.  He loves sleeping in the crook of a knee, if he isn't using a pillow like a human.  There have been many times when I have gone to bed only to find Brett using my pillow.

Brett sighs and sounds exasperated a lot, and he seems to do it at just the right parts of a conversation.  He sounds like he is put upon, and that is one of our jokes-- that Brett is troubled and put upon and is really the one that keeps the household together and if we didn't have him, well, somehow we would completely fall apart.  He bears up well under the weight of the world, though, and sometimes even manages to look dignified.  I think he know when I have a camera pointed at him, and will wait until I have taken his picture before he looks away.  The Brett we know is very proud of himself.

Everyone loves Brett.  Brett has broken through the anti-small-dog barriers of quite a few people.  Brett is full of personality and life and a bit of an attitude.  I am so thankful to have our Bretzger Metzger Pumpkin Head in our lives.  Even if he loves Mike a little bit more.

Thirty Days of Thanksgiving: Day 12, Frosty

I am thankful for Frosty.  Frosty is our first dog (but not our first pet.  That honor goes to Simon Thecat, who passed away this summer.  And I'm still upset with the vet about it, and will not recommend that vet to anyone!)  Frosty started his life known to us with my mother.  My sister Karla was working at the animal shelter and brought Frosty home one night.  If memory serves, Frosty's name was Chevy back then.  Luke, Karla's oldest (and at that time, only) child renamed him Frosty, and I think it fits.

Before Mike and I were even married, we loved Frosty.  We had visited my mother, where Frosty woke us up each morning with his ferocious dog breath.  (We have since cured Frosty of the ferocious breath, but have at the same time created a ferocious Greenie addict who must have a Greenie every day or there could be severe consequences.)  After we left Frosty ran around the house, carrying his octopus squeaky toy, looking for us.  As soon as we could, we moved into an apartment that allowed dogs, with the sole intent of "rescuing" Frosty once again, this time from my mother.  (My mother loved Frosty.  I am not saying that Frosty was ignored.  What I am saying is that no one understands Frosty the way we do.  And that includes my mother.)

Frosty moved in with us in San Diego.  He loved our apartment, which was on the third floor.  It thrilled him to no end to be able to sit in the window and look down on everyone and everything.  We lived a block away from a dog park where we spent a lot of time.  Mike and I often went to the dog park on Friday nights instead of the bar.  Much better company.

Frosty loves many things.  He loves to go for a walk.  He loves to look out the window at who knows what. He is a pot-stirrer of the highest order.  He will bark once, while standing in the middle of the room, just to get the other dogs barking, and then stand back and listen while smiling away.  He is always in a good mood.  He doesn't particularly like to be picked up, and he isn't much of a lap dog, but he is always in the same room as we are.  He loves to eat, and does a little dance we call The Frosty Dance of Happiness when we are dishing out his food (or our food).  His middle name is Danger.  Truly it is.  His vet announcements come addressed to Frosty Danger Malone.

Frosty snouts things.  That's what we call it:  snouting.  He snouts the door open.  He snouts knick knacks on the shelf.  He snouts his food bowl, and has often overturned some of the food out of it.  His favorite toy is the squeaky elephant (EleFUNt).  He hates the Life Source Bits in his food and has been known to eat around them.  He will leave scatterings of Life Source Bits wherever he has decided to dine, which is almost never at his bowl.

Love that Frosty.

Thirty Days of Thanksgiving: Day 11, our vets

It seems only proper to be thankful for our veterans.  My father and brother were both in the Army.  My husband is a Marine.  We have a nephew who is currently a Marine, and one who got out of the Marine Corps last year.  Mike's brother was a Marine.  It seems that serving our country is somewhat of a family business.

My Dad, 1969-ish

Amazing men and women, the lot of them.

Thirty Days of Thanksgiving: Day 10, The United States Marine Corps

November 10th (the day on which this post was supposed to be published) is the birthday of the United States Marine Corps.  Mike has been a Marine since 1991.  I am very proud of him for doing it, for so long and so well.

The Marines are very proud of their birthday and celebrate it with a Birthday Ball.  It is usually pretty fun.  The Marines get to wear their dress blues, and their dates get to dress up.  For me, it has always seemed like adult prom with a fun dress, sassy shoes, and fabulous make up.

Isn't he handsome?

A big shout out to my friend Liz for loaning me the dress!  Love friends that come through in a pinch!

Thirty Days of Thanksgiving: Day 9, Green Smoothies

I know it seems like Green Smoothies are a silly thing to be thankful for, but I am.  I am thankful that I read about them, that I have a husband who will drink them, that I can buy much of what I need for them locally, that I have friends who drink them and don't find me to be weird (for drinking Green Smoothies; I think they might find me weird for other reasons), and I am thankful for the energy they give me.  (I am also thankful for my heavy duty blender, which I think is my most used kitchen appliance, after the coffee maker.)  I try to drink at least one a day, almost like a vitamin.

Pre-Smoothie

My typical "recipe" is an apple, some frozen strawberries (instead of ice), kale, and spinach.  If I have it, I use iced green tea instead of water-- I try to pack this baby with as much goodness as possible.  I used to put turmeric in it, but I must have gotten a little heavy-handed with it, and they started tasting kind of dirty, so I stopped.

Health in a glass.  Yum!

The recipe varies according to what I have in the fridge.  Cucumbers add a brightness to a Green Smoothie that I really like.  If mangoes are at the commissary, I grab a few of those.  (For some reason, I can't find frozen mangoes in the store very readily around here.)  I had a ton of blueberries that we picked this summer that I was adding, which makes the smoothie look more black than green, but I am out of those now.  (Note to self:  pick more next summer!)

Thirty Days of Thanksgiving: Day 8, the view in my dining room

Yes, I'm behind on these.  But I am determined to catch up and finish!  It is true that I've been busy (oh my goodness, is there a LOT to learn in nursing school!) but I've also watched my share of Dancing with the Stars, so I could have been updating (especially since most of these have been written, they just needed pictures).  It's just that, when I get behind on something, I'm not always sure how to get back in front of it.  The answer is, of course, just to start.  So here I am, starting again.  At Day 8.

And what I am thankful for today is the view in my dining room window.

You can't see it clearly in this picture because of the glare on the window, but there are two rose bushes out there.  We planted them the first summer we were here, three years ago.  They are called Knockout Roses, and I highly recommend them.  They have grown so well!  They are up to the second window pane on the window, and the house is about three steps up from the ground.  I think they are over five feet tall now.  I love sitting at the table in the morning, drinking my coffee and seeing the rose bushes.  They make me really happy.