NotTheRock Musings

Now, I don't want to celebrate too soon, but our little Maya suddenly decided to sleep through the night rather than wake up ever few hours to whine and cry until we took her outside. And when people were like, "oh, the puppy stage is only like a year," well, that phrase kept echoing in my head when I was walking around our soggy backyard on a rainy night at, you know, 2 AM.

But starting on Monday night, Maya became our little angel. I think it helped that we suddenly stopped being idiots and took her food and water away after a certain hour so that her little fuel tank wasn't overly full during the night. We started regimenting when she gets to eat and, not surprisingly, her body started getting on a pee and poop schedule pretty quick. The upshot? Solid sleep.

The first night she was good was Monday night and I probably slept worse that night than I have been sleeping, mainly because I kept wondering if she was alright. After three nights of whining and crying, I figured she must have died to be so completely silent. Or maybe her head was stuck in the bars and she was suffering. Or maybe I had yanked her leash too hard and broken her neck. Who the hell knows.

So I kept waking up and worrying... I finally heard her stir at aout 5:45 AM -- I had been planning to get up at 6 anyway -- and so I went out there and she hadn't made a mess or anything! Amazing. Full praise and love was given.

Then Tuesday night, same story. Of course, we were dog tired (no pun intended) and so we crashed at about 10:30. I commented to Watersyne that we were pushing our luck putting her down at that early hour and expecting her to last all night, but what the hell... we were tired. The good little girl lasted, again, until 5:45 AM. I was thrilled. Seven hours of sleep, give or take? A deal I can live with for sure.

Then this morning... it was a little weird. Again at precisely 5:45 AM, Maya began whimpering, after being silent all night long. Did one of us leave a watch in her crate, I wondered? Has this dog learned to read the digital clock on the microwave? Do I have a genius dog on my hands? I've been leaving the kitchen TV on to give her some white noise... maybe she hears the time on the early-morning news and decides it's time to get up. I don't know.

I realize it sounds like I'm joking around but somehow this dog is like clockwork. However, this morning when she cried at 5:45, I ignored her. She must have figured the time change happened early so she went back to sleep for another hour.

Labels: doggies, Maya, talking about poop and pee more than a person without children ever should

For anyone who's had a puppy before they've had kids, you understand what we're dealing with. We got little Miss Maya on Friday and we really are smitten with her. She's just so adorable and truly does the cutest things, like bounding -- all puppy-like -- across the yard, attacking toys with vigor, giving constant little puppy-kisses, and snuggling into you for a nap in a way that melts your heart.

She also does less cute things, such as shitting in the house, peeing in random places and crying through the night.

I realize she's a dog and this will eventually pass (or I'll pop her little head off in a fit of sleep-deprived rage at 4:15 AM one morning) but it's definitely a daunting thing to think about when you're on your patio at 2:45 in the morning saying, "Go potty. Go potty. Go potty. Go potty. Come on, Maya! Dammit! Stop eating the grass!"

This dog likes to eat grass. And mulch. And dirt. And cement. I swear, I think she would have eaten our barbecue propane tank if it wasn't attached to the grill.

We've only had her a couple of days and she's already had good moments and bad moments. She's had times when she'll go into her crate voluntarily and flop down for a rest. Other times, when we have to put her in and close the door, she's been an angel, whimpering momentarily and then settling down to rest. Then there have been times that she took a dump in her crate. And then freaked the hell out about it.

People have said to us, "You'll be able to tell when she's just crying because she wants to come out versus a distress cry when she's peed or pooped in her crate." Well, I think this is true... the freak-out cry is insistent and ongoing. And after we've cleaned up her accident(s), she's very happily gone back into the crate and gone right to sleep with no fuss or whining. Problem is, she's only eight weeks old and has a hard time holding her bodily functions for very long and she also doesn't really ever want to do anything for, say, six straight hours, especially not sleep in her confined crate. So we're still wrestling with getting her scheduling down to the right intervals so that her little tanks are emptied of pee and poop and she's ready to sleep for a while. Then if she cries, we'll just ignore her until she gives in and understands we aren't coming out until morning. Oh, that day will be a wonderful one. We'll see how long it takes.

In the meantime, don't be surprised if I give you a call at a weird hour because I'm up with my damn dog.

Labels: doggies, Maya, pee, poop, talking about poop and pee more than a person without children ever should

Well, the decision has been made -- her name is going to remain Maya.

I know this kept a lot of you awake and you were constantly tuning into Entertainment Tonight much like you would in anticipation of a celebrity baby naming. Hey, we could have named her Apple but thankfully good taste prevailed.

Truth was, there wasn't anything else that we both truly liked enough -- that wasn't already in use by other people, dogs, etc. -- and so we kept coming back to Maya. We kept referring to her as Maya and kept buying things and saying, "Well, another toy for Maya." Not "another toy for the dog." So in the end, just as I suspected, we are keeping her name.

Anyway, tonight is the big night. We head to the breeder to pick her up in a just a couple of hours and then, well, then it's puppy stage time. Watersyne had a very valid question the other day, asking me whether she'd be able to hold her peepee for the whole night (Maya, not Watersyne). And no, of course she can't. She's got a bladder the size of a grape. So my wonderful wife researched this and learned that at 8 weeks (which she is), they can hold it for perhaps four hours. Outstanding!

So I guess I'll be back to my staying up late to watch Sportscenter and then I'll be letting the pupper out. Then maybe one middle-of-the-night visit to the backyard and then, well, early in the morning as soon as I get up. Then she's Watersyne's problem when I head to work.

This is gonna be good training for kids. Of course, I already knew once we had kids that we wouldn't be getting any sleep -- I had just hoped to sleep plenty before that day came. So much for that.

Labels: doggies, Maya

I hope to post more and more hilarity from YouTube since it's the lazy blogger's best friend. But in honor of Valentine's Day, let's hear what Jane Skinner, this very attractive anchorwoman at Fox News has on her mind.

That's right, cock.




I do enjoy that she knows full well that she's headed to YouTube.

And, of course, what do the guys want today? Yes, that's right... we'll let Fox News tell you that, too.



And I'm not sure... but is that the same dude in both videos? If so, no wonder he's so pleased someone else made a mistake.

Labels: fair and balanced, Jane Skinner, YouTube

You know, one of the many perks of being a married man is the fact that, while there are still expectations on Valentine's Day, the stress largely evaporates once you put a ring on her finger.

See, Valentine's Day is stupid, made-up holiday cultivated by Hallmark and 1-800-Flowers, or so I would imagine. I tend to agree with those who ask why we need a special day to tell those important to us how much they mean. To me, it's kind of like celebrating your life on a birthday or the new year on 12/31 -- why only celebrate those things on those specific days?

But I'm digressing, as usual. The best Valentine's Days for me are happening now and will continue to happen. You know why? Because I only need to make one woman smile on Valentine's Day. I don't have to worry that some girl I might sort of possibly have a thing with is expecting flowers to arrive on her doorstep. I don't have to deal with the pressure people put on about getting engaged on that day. Those sorts of things.

I remember last year, we went on a Circle Line Cruise around Manhattan. It was dinner and dancing and alcohol... and there was no stress because we were already engaged. Watersyne and I even enjoyed looking around to try to find the nervous guys about to propose. Not us! Just out for a fun dinner!

I remember back in college, I used to send out cards on Valentine's Day the way most people send cards around Christmas. That is, I would send a Valentine's Day card to every girl in my life that could have potential, did have potential, once had potential, etc... you get the point. I distinctly remember shopping for literally like a dozen cards and then writing out each one thoughtfully and then sending them off to all these chicks I thought I had a chance with. To be fair, I probably did have a chance with a good number of them.... I mean, who among us hasn't strung a girl along at some point in their lives? And what better way than being "thoughtful"? I mean, she could be writing you off, but then she gets that thoughtful card with handwritten thoughts... and boom, you're back in the game. Sure, it's a little shady, but let's all remember that we are all shady when we're college-aged. Especially dudes.

But I mean it when I say the best Valentine's Days for me are happening now. No more wondering if I'm going to be alone for this stupid, meaningless holiday. And no more wondering if I made the right choice of "dates" for Valentine's Day. Nope, there's just one woman for me on V-Day and we're contractually obligated by the laws of the state of New York to be with one another.

And hey, if I don't get her a nice gift, what's she gonna do? Go out with someone else? I don't think so.

Labels: married life, Valentine's Day

You know what I realized yesterday? I realized that not long ago I said I might try an endeavor where I post here every day for a solid month. And I figured that February might be the best month, given that it's the shortest, there's the least sports action to distract me and, well, I don't know why else. And then I realized on February 7 that I sort of missed the boat on that one. Oops.

In other news, we made our first trip to Petco as expectant puppy parents and we didn't know where to begin... or end, as it turns out. Our puppy, who has yet to come home or even be officially named, already has a half-dozen toys, three different containers of treats, two leashes, a collar (with pink in it, of course), cute ceramic bowls ("that match our kitchen!" --Watersyne), and a divider gate that doesn't fit in the space we envisioned it in.

We still need to get her a crate for home as well as at least one travel crate. And given that she's so small, I think I might see one of those duffel bag, over-the-shoulder kinds of travel bags in her future as well. My wife might look like Paris Hilton. In the carrying-a-dog-in-a-bag way, not the exposing-her-privates kind of way.

Did I need to make that distinction?

Labels: doggies, infrequent posting, Maya, Petco

Well, here's a picture of our new little girl, Maya. At least that's the name the breeder gave her. And we kind of like it. And it's a good thing we liked Maya and not, say, "January," because then we wouldn't have a good name built-in.

So what is she? She's a cross between a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and a Havanese. In a perfect scenario, you get the demeanor and loving nature of the Cavalier mixed with the hypo-allergenic, non-shedding features of the Havanese. But how often is the scenario perfect?

Truthfully, though, Maya is a good find. She's mostly black, which we really liked. And she has that cute little Cavalier face... yet, as the breeder showed us, her coat is the texture of the Havanese -- that is, non-shedding. She's sure that Maya's not going to be a shedder. We'll see, I guess, but there's no doubt that even if she does shed a little, it won't be what a typical dog does. So that's good.

We settled on her this past Saturday on our visit to the breeder 70 miles away. This is not the other one I mentioned that pissed us off so many times. We'll get to them another time. The breeder we used was so professional, helpful and knowledgeable. She's a Vet Tech who loves dogs and, despite there being many, many dogs in her home, the place didn't look messy or even smell doggy. That's quite impressive, considering many homes with only one dog end up smelling funky sometimes.

As for the name, as I said, we kind of like Maya. It's cute and we're already kind of used to referring to her by that. We had a conversation one night, though, about the fun of random names. Like naming a tiny dog "Butch" or "Killer." I actually thought it would be fun to name a dog "Cat."

"This is my dog...Cat."

Wateryne laughed but vetoed my idea. I thought it was brilliant.

Of course, once we settled on her, Watersyne began working on me.

"Are you saying I can't ever dress her in a cute outfit? Or put something in her hair?"

I can just see it now. I'm out walking my 10-pound dog while she's wearing a pink sweater and barrettes. How gay will I look? Very gay.

We expect to pick her up next Friday, 2/15.

Labels: doggies, Maya

This morning, after moving down here and bragging to everyone about how nice and mild the winter weather is here, there was actually frost on my car. Now, I've noticed some minor icing earlier this month, but it's usually nothing more than that -- minor. Once I'm in the car and moving, it's nothing but moistute. Not this morning.

No, this morning, there was true frost on my windsheild. And the best part? I don't have any idea where our scrapers are anymore. I've been down here a damn month and we've already turned into Southerners who haven't a clue how to handle ice. So I drove slowly down my road with the defroster blasting and trying to de-ice the windsheild with my non-de-icing washer fluid. I looked like what my dad used to refer to as "tank drivers" -- those people who are too lazy to clear their windsheild in the winter and instead just clear a hole to look through and thus are like driving a tank.

Of course, within a few blocks, it was taken care of and it's going to be 70 tomorrow.

Hee!

Labels: Mother Nature has a weird sense of humor, weather