Tales of a Terrible Terrier 2

After the Pet Smart fiasco, I knew our puppy needed some more home-training and lessons in manners before I took him into public again however; a trip to the Groomer was necessary and so taking my ill-behaved pup out was unavoidable. I did find a Groomer that runs a business on her farm and that seemed more suitable to Franklin than taking him to a commercial place. Unfortunately, the woman only operated M-F 8-5 and thus, Franklin Graham's first trip to the Groomer was at the expense of me taking 1/2 day off from work, unpaid. I have NEVER taken unpaid time off from work to take my own children to the doctor. What has become of me?

The groomer was only about 10 minutes from me and I enjoyed the short drive to the country. Franklin likes to ride on my lap because its the only way he can look out the window, he's too small to do it on his own. Makes driving a big more challenging not to mention, I feel pretty stupid like people are looking at me thinking, "Oh she's one of those kind of dog owners." You know, much the way I used to look at people before I became ---well, the type of dog owner that takes unpaid time off from work to get a puppy groomed. That kind of dog owner.

When we pulled into the long driveway that leads up to the farm, I instantly knew we were in the right place. Oh sure, I loved the setting and it was peaceful and quiet but that's not exactly what made it the right place. It was secluded and there was not one person to be found (I took the first appointment of the day) so there weren't any toddlers for Franklin to attack or other dogs, toys, noises, cars or any other distractions. Perhaps Franklin was actually going to have a good visit to the groomer.

Or perhaps not.

Franklin and I get out of the car and already he's a spaz. Granted, there were so many wonderful new smells and just a few feet away was a huge pasture with a grazing horse in it. I would have loved to let my little lad go run free and he thought so too, from the way he was pulling and tugging at his leash, "Mommy! PLEEEESE let me go!!!" I stood there for a second trying to envision it and concluded that somehow my tiny terrier would manage to terrorize that poor horse. Size never dissuades my pup.

There was a typical white farm house, a big barn in the back and between the two, a small building with a sign marked "Salon". I figured that was the place. Franklin and I walked in to a very tiny entry way that had a "Mr. Ed door" that led to the salon area. Franklin was out of his mind with excitement --much like the Pet Smart trip only this time there were fewer distractions. Immediately two ladies come to the door and excitedly say, "This must be Franklin!" They open the bottom half of the door and Pup takes off. He's jumping, he's nipping, he's barking, he's --well, basically he's behaving very badly. We exchange a few words of instruction and then off I go to leave my beloved Frankie at the groomer to get his first hair cut.

As I'm walking out the door I think to myself, "Good luck, ladies!"

No sooner than I took the last sip of my Pumpkin Spiced Latte, it was time to go pick up my freshly bathed boy. When I got back to the groomer other people were there dropping their dogs off. I was so excited to see Franklin's new Do and yes, I admit as I walked passed those other people and looked down at their dogs I so selfishly thought, "My dog is so much cuter than yours."

Which is exactly the attitude, I imagine, that causes my puppy to be so spoiled and rotten.

The nice ladies bring Franklin to me and he was so excited to see me. As I was taking care of the bill, I had to keep pulling the leash in closer to me to keep Frankie from jumping all over the two dogs in the waiting area. The very tiny waiting area. The very two well behaved dogs in the very tiny waiting area. The very two well behaved dogs in the very tiny waiting area that were not as cute as my very ill-behaved dog.

As I'm paying the nice ladies I ask the dumbest question that ever befell my lips. "So, how did he do? Was Franklin good?"

I really already knew the answer to that question but I was hopeful for a miracle of sorts . . . .

And then standing there in that tiny waiting area trying to hear the nice ladies talk over Franklin's yelps and barks and trying to keep him from jumping all over the other two dogs and feeling awfully embarrassed in front of the other two dog owners, all the while trying to dig $30 out of my purse, I had a moment reminiscent to many parent/teacher conferences I have had for a certain boy - a human boy of mine but you know --not to mention any names ---and you know that old trick the teachers play when they have bad news to deliver, "start with something positive and end with something positive". You know, give Mom a false sense of security then blast her with the bad news then try to make her feel good before she leaves. Been there. Done that! How many of those conferences started off with, "Jack is a nice boy. . . . . ." [Names have been changed to protect the innocent and/or guilty parties]. And then their voice tapers off and there is a pause . . . a seemingly eternal silence . . . you just wait for that "but".

Groomer lady says, "Franklin is so cute."

Silence. Well you know, except for all the commotion Frankin is causing behind me.

Wait for the but.

"But . . ."

Ding! There it is!!!!

"But . . . well, he's just so darn cute. Really he is. It's just well --well, he --he --he likes to chase the brush, you know? And well, he he nipped at us a few times. I mean, he's so cute and I know its his first time . . ."

"Nip? Like? Playful?"

Silence. Well you know, except for all the commotion Frankin is causing behind me.

"No, uh --not playful. No, he was --well you know, he was biting."

"BITING? Like for real angry biting?"

Yes, Franklin is a biter. Then again so was Zach as a toddler --er, I mean Jack.

Frankie and I get in the van and he cozies himself on my lap excited for the ride home. Just like those parent/teacher conferences of days gone by, there was a lecture to be had on the way home.

"Franklin! Why were you biting the nice ladies? You can't bite people, pup! That's not the way we behave! . . . ."

*sigh*

Will I ever be able to take this puppy into public?

And seriously, I took off a 1/2 day UNPAID from work for this. I'm a crazy lady raising a terrible terrier.

Tales From a Terrific Terrier

From Franklin --

If you read below, Tales of a Terrible Terrier I think you'll be mislead. I feel like I'm getting a bad rap and I have some splain' to do.

The other day Mommy gets me all hyped up and tells me we were going on an adventure to some--some pet place like -Pet Start or Pets are Smart or whatever, I wasn't really paying that much attention because as soon as I heard the word adventure I was up for anything. I'm still a little unsure of the whole car ride thing but like I said, I'm usually always up for an adventure.

As soon as we got to the doors I just knew I was in for one of the biggest adventures of my life! The doors were HUGE. There were new scents everywhere I couldn't decide which one to land my nose on --this one, no this one, how bout this one, no this . . . ah! It was so hard to make up my mind so I just flittered from one to another. And then people were walking around and let's face it --I'm cursed with cuteness and that is totally not my fault. I'm totally minding my own business --sniffing here, sniffing there when people start screeching, "Oh a puppy! He's so cute!" Now see, Mommy is misleading everyone to believe I have bad manners but that is not the case at all. When someone is talking to me it would be rude to ignore them --so I happily greet them. It's a Yorkie trait. I'm friendly. What can I say, its all part of my Yorkie charm. And while we're on that subject, I DO NOT bite people. Oh sure, a little harmless nip here, a little gnawing there I mean, its what we puppies do. Perhaps Mommy skipped that chapter in one of her books.

*rolls eyes* Yeah --let's just touch on those books too. Maybe if Mommy put one of them down every now and then and actually played with me well then hey, I wouldn't have to chew on the corners to get her attention, now would I?

The little girl incident --I was so excited to meet a little person like me. I mean, imagine what its like for me to live with giants all of the time, which actually explains the leaping and jumping --I'm just trying to see eye-to-eye. You would think my short Mommy could relate. Anyways, I totally was not going to nip her nose off. Mommy exaggerates.

I'm confused. See, the whole car ride Mommy kept telling me we were going on an adventure and I was going to get a new toy. I was only trying to be helpful when we were at the store trying to pick out my new toy. I needed to sniff them and pull them off the shelf to you know --give 'em a spin around the block. Had Mommy not pulled me away from every single toy so quickly, perhaps we could have actually gotten one I wanted and liked. Instead Mommy picked one out for me and I didn't really care for it much. It smells funny.

Train me as she may, Mommy just isn't going to get me to be like one of those old stuffy dogs. *snorts* I was just trying to play and liven things up a bit. Maybe they should let their perfectly pointy ears down every now and then and have some fun. And those other dogs --I can explain that too. I wasn't at all trying to nip or bite them. You see their Mommy saw me and said to them, "Oh look! That's what you looked like when you were a puppy." I thought it was a joke. Those dogs were so fat you could barely see their faces, hence why I missed their kindred Yorkiness. And those bellies --just dragging along the ground. They were so plump I thought maybe someone pumped them up with air. I wasn't going to bite them --I just wanted to nip 'em a bit to see if they'd explode or perhaps just deflate into a shell of a dog --like the skins at Build A Bear.

I'm just a pup. I haven't been to school or had any formal training --besides Mommy chasing me around with Resolve Pet Odor remover every time I do my business . . . the point is, I'm not an educated pup so how was I to know I had some big shoes to fill with a presidential name like Franklin? I think that's unfair. Talk about setting me up for failure! I can't even register to vote! How can I possibly have aspirations to be presidential? If Mommy wanted me to live up to my name maybe I should have been named Magellan or Marco Polo --Christopher --I'm an explorer, an adventurer. Now those are some hearty names a curious pup like me could live up to! I'm only 3 months old --I'm not even sure what I want to be when I grow up yet. *snickers* Well I certainly don't want to be one of those old stuffy dogs that sit on command like I saw at that pet start place. I'm not exactly sure what a president is but I imagine one of those dogs would be perfectly suited to be president. I don't know, I could totally see myself as a forest ranger or maybe even a coal miner. I could totally be a hunter, ranch handler or lion tamer --OMG! Roy would TOTALLY be a name I could live up to. Well --you know, except perhaps for the part about well --I like girl puppies.

Lindsay Lohan? Really Mommy! That's just a low blow! Listen, rambunctious as I may be, I've never induced any drugs or chemicals into my system --I mean --except for that one Dish Washer tab I ate that one time but you know, wasn't my fault it smelled citrus and sweet --anyway ---

I believe this should clear matters up.

Signed,

A Terrific Terrier

Franklin Graham Newsome

Tales of a Terrible Terrier

I'm not a good puppy Mom and I'm raising a hellion puppy. I don't intend to but that seems to be the course we are on.

I'm reading the puppy books, watching the Puppy Whisperer videos and episodes of Its Me Or The Dog but the puppy has chewed the corners of the borrowed library puppy books, the cord to the lap top with which I watch the videos and I miss most of the TV shows most valuable information because I have my eyes glued to puppy's butt watching to see if any poop is gonna plop down on my carpet.

I took the hellion --er, I mean --puppy. Our puppy, Franklin. I took Franklin to Pet Smart because I thought it would be good for him to get out and you know, get over exposed and over stimulated so the rambunctious creature would exhaust himself to sleep when we got home --sounded perfectly reasonable to me. Thus, we adventured ourselves out to Pet Smart. I had in mind to purchase some toys that were recommended by the puppy books.

Taking Franklin to Pet Smart made me feel like one of those really bad mothers with really bad kids you occasionally come across in the store. No, I'm not talking about the kid that has a melt down, loses his sanity for a brief moment when he sees a toy he HAS to have and yet can't have, or the basic "I'm going to display a lack of manners and healthy dose of disobedience just because we're in public and I think I can get away with it" moments. No, not that kind of stuff. I'm talking about the kids who are completely out of control, running, screaming, crying, throwing tantrums and the parents are completely out of control, running, screaming, crying and throwing tantrums . . . those situations when it takes every ounce of your strength not to snatch that child up and give him the spanking he really deserves, harshly set him down in the cart and sternly say to him, "You are disturbing the shopping experience of 50 other people! Now sit down, be quiet and obey your mother AND NO! YOU ARE NOT GETTING BUZZ LIGHT YEAR! YOU HEARD YOUR MOTHER --YOU HAVE TWO OTHERS AT HOME THAT YOU NEVER PLAY WITH."

So yeah, Franklin was like one of those kids. Out! Of! Control!

First of all, Franklin thinks every person in the world exists to be his friend. I mean, I admire the little fella's friendliness but how do I get across the Stranger Danger lessons to my canine lad? Every person we saw, and I do mean EVERY person we saw, dear Franklin wanted to give them his own personal greeting. But he's such a spastic puppy and likes to gnaw and chew as his form of affection, most people don't take too kindly to getting gnawed at. And the ill mannered pup leaps and jumps onto people and you know, that's not acceptable public behavior either. So I have to control the leash and keep Franklin at a safe distance from people --but the people don't make it any easier when they behold my fluffy little Yorkie and exclaim in a high-pitched voice, "Oh he's so cute!" Which is only like a personally engraved invitation to Franklin to leap and jump and nibble and bite . . . . .

Franklin was out of control --he was like a bumble bee buzzing around at top speed --he jumped onto the shelves, grabbed merchandise off of shelves, crawled under the shelves, yipped, yapped, zipped and zapped. He was so out of control I finally picked him up to calm him down but he was out of his Yorkie puppy mind and almost jumped out of my arms. Other doggie owners were looking at me with either pity or disgust. As Franklin ransacked his way through the store, choking himself and gasping for air as he pulled his leash to full throttle, other doggie owners would see us coming and say to their nicely behaved dog, "SIT!", and the dog would sit and watch Franklin cruise by out of control, me at the other end of the leash desperately trying to keep up with my puppy's steroid pace. As we turned one corner I had a moment of panic when I saw a little girl about 3 years old and as soon as she saw Franklin she bolted towards him yelling, "PUPPY!" All I could think is Franklin would nip that poor toddler's nose right off her face! And I think the little girl's Mom sensed that panic in me because as I was reeling the leash in to gain better control of my pup, the Mom was running towards her daughter saying, "No, remember Mommy said we don't pet dogs unless . . " Finally I grabbed my hellion dog while she got hold of her sweet little girl and thus, her nose stayed in tact with her face.

We had to cut our trip to Pet Smart short but not before I dropped a cool $50 on a new collar, leash and toys. The new collar was because Franklin, known in some finer circles as FDR, learned how to get his old collar into his mouth and loosen it. I needed a collar of a different material that wouldn't slide so easily. Well then of course, I HAD to buy the matching leash. I also bought toys the puppy books recommended and the labels promised, "hours and hours of fun and chewing" but FDR just looked at them and me like we were both crazy --and opted to chew on my toes, furniture, books, shoes . . . so much for the puppy book recommended toys!

I could go on with more tales of a terrible terrier (or is that tails of a terrible terrier) but I have to take my FDR out to pee and poop and then crate him for the evening and then myself get to bed because you know, 5am comes awfully early and that's the magic hour FDR start howling for another pee break.

FDR certainly is not living up to his distinguished presidential name --he's more like a Lindsay Lohan.

Puppy Training

I'm trying to be a good puppy Mommy but perhaps I'm not cut out for the job. I'm not a patient person and it takes patience to train a pup to use the bathroom outside --and not in the kitchen or living room...

I'm trying to keep the house puppy proof and not leave books on the lower shelf for him to gnaw at, shoes by the door for him to chew, electric cords hanging down, pantry door left open, ANY door left open . . . but I forget what its like to puppy proof a house. Heck, I forget what its like to child proof a house.

Like a good new Mommy should do, I'm reading all of the puppy books, training books, Yorkie books. I watch the Animal Planet channel for inspiration and episodes of The Puppy Whispered on YouTube --I'm educating myself in this puppy realm unknown.

The books say not to get frustrated because your pup can sense your frustration . . .so I guess when I say between gritted teeth at 5:15am, "Franklin! Time to go potty now! It's cold outside! Franklin! Please go potty now! Stop playing wiht the leash! No, I'm not going to chase you!" Franklin senses my frustration --my very tired frustration! But how do you not get frustrated, huh? I KNOW puppy has to use the bathroom and yet, he's so easily distracted.

How easily distracted? Well, a potty session goes something like this in Franklin's mind. . . .

Oh Mommy is taking me outside! I'm so excited. I love Mommy, I'm gonna lick her hand while she puts my leash on --or maybe just bite it. Mommy LOVES when we play this game ---try and get the leash on me! Oh there we go, she got it on --hurry and open the door, Mommy! Hurry! I can't wait to ---here we go. I have to be careful going down those big stairs, I fall sometimes so s-l-o-w-l-y I go down the . . LET'S GO MOMMY! LET'S RUN! Oh, so I guess we're not running. Okay--I have to pee really really bad. Now let me just sniff around . WHAT'S THAT? I leaf? I LOVE TO CHASE LEAVES! Oh I hope its a crunchy one - -did I just hear something? A CAR! A CAR! Oh Mommy, let's go chase the car --oh okay, well Mommy must not like to chase . . what's that? A BUTTERFLY? HELLO BUTTERFLY, would you like to be my friend? Oh surely . . .oh my goodness, what is this scent right here in the grass? *sniff sniff* I've never smelled that before . . maybe if I just dig right here . .CHILDREN? DO I HEAR CHILDREN WALKING BY? Hello children! Thanks for coming to visit me! I love visitors and I think I'll go say hi to them . . .and wait a second! A BRANCH! How fun is a branch? I'll just pick this up right here and chew on it and ---OH MOMMY! You want to play fetch with the branch? Mommy took the branch and thew it . .why won't she let me go get it? Well, look at that, a flower! *sniff sniff* Mommy, I LOVE flowers! I wonder if it tastes as good as . . .I heard a dog bark. Did you hear that? Is he calling me? I think I'll run over to see --oh another good scent right here *sniff sniff* I think I'll pee here . .no wait maybe over here *sniff sniff* nah, I think over here is better --ANOTHER CAR? Let's go chase that one, Mommy! Oh my leash! I'm gonna chew my leash and . . . hold on! I hate this collar --lemme just try-and-get-to- did you see that? I saw something fly by. What was that? A BIRD? *jump jump* I wish I could fly like that *leap leap* I think I was suppose to go potty so let me sniff --hold the phone! I saw something in the sky. What was tha . . . children? More kids? Are they here to play with me--*sniff sniff* I love scents. Now if I --why does Mommy's voice sound so angry? Mommy? Oh Momm ---this right here smells delicious *lick lick* it is the most wonderful . . .BIRDS! Mommy! LET'S GO!

And that is the first 39 seconds.

I exaggerate - none.

Embracing the Empty Nest (with a puppy)

We took Monica back to Kent last weekend. I think I’m finally “getting over it” –leaving my kids (or them leaving us). I mean, it only took me 5 years but this is the very first year we took one of the kids to school and there were no tears for me on the way home. In fact, we practically did a “drive by drop off”. After we dumped Monica’s boxes and college stuff in her room, took her out to lunch and did the traditional “Newsome last trip to Walmart” (all those things for the room/dorm you forgot or didn’t realize you needed) we pulled up in the parking lot in front on Monica’s Sorority House and said, “Well, okay –we’ll see you later.” Monica was like, “Uh ---so –you’re not coming up . . . we’re just saying good-bye right here?” Jerry said, “Well, your Mother can go up with you. I’ll just wait here but don’t take too long or I’ll start blowing the horn.” I thought it was a good idea to walk up with Monica because well, I really needed to use the bathroom ---oh yeah, and stay with Monica a little longer too, yeah that too. When we got up to Monica’s room and I was done using the bathroom I said, “Well, give me a hug” as I was scooting towards the door and poor Monica looked and said, “You’re not going to help me unpack or anything? You normally make my bed for me.” I looked over at her bed, which was piled with clothes and things and said, “I can’t even see your bed! Besides, you need something to do for the rest of the afternoon –your roommates won’t be here until tomorrow.” We hugged, said our good-byes, Monica walked down to the van with me and then –all she saw was a black streak as the van made its quick get-away.

Poor Zach, our third child, won’t get any of the drama his sisters got. The summer before Amanda and Monica’s freshmen years our living room was piled high with dorm/college stuff. We shopped, made lists, planned, prepared, cried, lamented, dreaded . . . Now let’s see—it’s Wednesday, Zach moves up to Michigan on Saturday and we have ZERO purchased, ZERO packed. Last night Zach said to me, “So . . don’t you think I should be packing or getting ready or something?” I kind of sighed and very nonchalantly said, “Well yes, I guess so. I’ll get some boxes from work ---but you know, I took a ½ day off from work on Friday so we’ll be fine.” Amanda got three months of preparation and packing, Monica got probably two months and Zach well, he gets a good solid 4 hours. I mean, I’m going to pack my butt off for the ENTIRE 4 hours. Even my friends are shocked. They ask me when Zach leaves and then they pause waiting for the water works but I just stand there and they say, “So . . . then, uh ….this Saturday, huh?” Again, pausing waiting for the emotional breakdown but I’m cool as ice and they comment, “I guess then this is getting easier, huh?” One of Zach’s roommates (three are sharing a 2-bedroom apartment) is the oldest child –that kid’s Dad emails me 2-3 times a day, “Do you think we need this . . should I get that . . .we need to coordinate . . .does Zach have . . “ I read his emails and think to myself, “Gosh, was I that bad with Amanda? Calm down, dude. It’s going to be Okay!!!!”

I suppose it’s a good thing we didn’t have four kids. By the time we got to the fourth going off to college I’d probably be like, “So uh, your Dad and I are going to be off on an Alaskan cruise the day you move into the dorm –so we were just wondering, do you think you can fit all of your stuff in your car? I guess you could take our van but then we’d have to come get it and well, that would just be a big hassle.

See, Zach is lucky he’s not a fourth child ---and in my defense, I am devoting an ENTIRE four hours to the boy’s college moving preparations.

Like I said, Zach leaves on Saturday. His roommate is from Cincinnati so his parents are renting a truck then driving it to our house, we’ll load up Zach’s things and then the 6 of us; two sets of parents and 2 college freshmen, will head to Glen Oaks. I feel sorry for Jerry. Monica’s freshman year she lived on the fifth floor in the dorms and though there were elevators, the lines were so long –Jerry just hauled her things up the stairs. Amanda had a third floor dorm her Sophomore year, sans elevators and then a second floor apartment. Now Zach’s apartment is on the third floor. I’m not gonna lie –I make as few trips up/down the stairs as possible. I make 1-2 trips just to make it look good and then I busy myself with unpacking or I walk up and down the hallway with the same box pretending I just made another trip up the stairs. I might even make it look good by panting and saying, “Whew, those stairs are kicking my butt!”

Biggest news -- we got a puppy! I know, such a proverbial Empty Nester thing to do, right? With our "baby" leaving us, I needed someone to love and care for. Our little male Yorkie is named Franklin Graham. We wanted a hearty name with dignity –not a traditional doggie name and something Presidential seemed befitting for our pup so we landed on the name Franklin, after the honorable President Franklin D. Roosevelt. I was set on the name McKinley but I was out voted and the children gave Graham as a middle name to appease me as that was also one of my top choice names. Graham, not being presidential but I thought being named after Alexander Graham Bell was dignified, too. Besides, our little black and tan pup looks about as big as a graham cracker. George was also a name of distinction that was in the running. I’m so in love with our puppy and he loves me too. Kids? What kids? Jerry, do we have kids? I’m so smitten with Franklin I’d almost forget we have three human kids of our own –except when the tuition payments hit us and then I remember, “Oh yeah, we have that one girl up at Kent."

I’m off to pick up some paint samples –with all these kids moving out there are so many possibilities for all of those empty bedrooms . . . .

P.S. Make that THREE solid hours devoted to Zach's moving preparations! I'm taking Puppy for his first trip to the Groomer on Friday and possibly an outing to Pet Smart (I've always wanted to stroll around in there with my very own doggie). But I mean, it is going to be a SOLID three hours --its all about quality, not quantity and I promise Zach, I'm there for ya, buddy!