Rowlf's Hair

For the last 2 months I've been contemplating what I want to do with ROwlf's hair when it finally grows out from all the horrendous haircuts he's had lately.
(After the poodle cut there was an incident involving a mat on his ear so they had to be shaved.)

Because really there are so many options..

There's the sweet floppy way he use to wear it..



Or we could go with a VanDyke.



Or perhaps a peacock look.



Tallulah loves cats, so maybe a lion cut.



Oliver needs something to get him more interested in History, so we could have a buffalo in the house.



Or maybe something a bit more laid back to go with his personality.



But my personal favorite is the mohawk.



Bean said I could. But I don't think he realized that I wasn't joking, so after our Colorado trip, I'm thinking a trip to the groomers is in order.

Guard Dog

Just a little tidbit for you. I'm babysitting for Cara's baby tonight.. Here's Rowlf guarding the baby's sleep.

My Name is Rowlf and I'm the Cutest Puppy Ever

Y'all have met my puppy, Rowlf..

This is normally what he looks like..



But right now he has a really bad haircut..



I am still so in love with him.. But really, to be very honest, he's not the brightest crayon in the box.

For starters, it hasn't occurred to him that he's a 60 lb goldendoodle. He thinks he's an 8 lb rat dog.

And when we go to the park or something he just does whatever the other dogs do.

So if there are good dogs there, he's good, but if there are poorly behaved pitbulls who don't listen to their owners, he just does what they do.

I'm finally cat free. So even though I don't have a doggie door, now that the weather's nice I can leave the back door open and don't have to crate the dogs because Tallulah's little bitch baby likes to crap on the floor in front of people's bedroom doors has accidents, so she needs to be able to go out whenever she wants.

The rat dogs picked up on the door being open immediately, especially Dodger, because he's way too smart for his own good.

But Rowlf just sat by the back door looking at me:

Can I go out?? Huh?? Huh??

I literally had to drag his 60 lb ass out.. and then I didn't see him for an hour.

He was sitting outside by the backdoor:

Can I come in now, Mom?? Can I?? Can I??

Poor Rowlf..

In case y'all don't remember, this is my baby:



His name is Rowlf and I am in love with his floppiness. I love that he frequently looks like a big throw rug. I also love his personality. He's so mellow it's unreal and I love it.

We've taken him to the groomers before and they did a good job, but they didn't really trim his face enough, so it grew back pretty quickly.

So I sent Bean to take him back and asked him to instruct them to trim his face a little better..

They did.



My big wonderful floppy dog has been turned into a fucking poodle. And yes, I realize that he's a goldendoodle and therefore is a poodle (or at least he's 75% a poodle), but if I'd wanted a fucking poodle, I would have bought a fucking poodle instead of an adorable floppy mop.

I'm so upset. I literally cried when Bean brought him home.

I guess it's good that he can see, but his Halloween costume is ruined.. He was going to be Chewbacca.

Do You Have To Be So Blunt??

Perry was over on Wednesday for his visitation with the kids and Bean was working, so I was helping Perry make dinner for the kids and trying to be sociable, because that's what grown-up, mature divorced parents do - or so I'm told.

And whenever I do something like that I try to make conversation about something completely innocuous that could never in any way be construed as being related to:

1. An attack on his parenting.

2. An attack on his manliness.

3. A comment on our crappy marriage.

4. A comment on my new wonderful marriage.

5. A comparison between my new wonderful marriage and our old crappy marriage.

6. His crazy family.

This week I chose Rowlf. He's losing his nuts next week.

And of course anytime two grown-ups (or two people in general) are having a conversation Oliver feels the need to eavesdrop.

Me: Rowlf is getting his nuts chopped off next Wednesday.

Perry:??

Oliver:WHAT??

Me: Bean's taking Rowlf to get his nuts chopped off next Wednesday. Do you want him to take you next Thurday now that we know where to go?

Oliver: NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Perry: Jenn, do you have to be so blunt? The word is neutered.

Me: So, Oliver, was that no for Rowlf's nuts or for yours??

I didn't answer Perry, because really it wasn't worth it, but I'd like to take this opportunity to answer him.

Yes, Perry, in MY kitchen while eating MY food and talking to MY children, I do have to be that blunt. And really is "neutered" so much of a better word?? At least my choice of words completely describes exactly what the procedure is going to be instead of using euphemisms and other malarkey to make someone feel better about what they're doing to their animal.

I am chopping the nuts off of my beloved dog. I signed a fucking contract saying that I would chop the nuts off of said dog before I could buy him for a third of what he was worth, and people are paying ridiculous amounts of money for what are essentially mutts - but I really wanted one. So those bad boys are coming off. But you know what?? I'd chop them off even if I didn't have a contract, because my boy still squats to pee, and he doesn't mark any territory and I like it that way.


How's that for blunt, Perry?? And you know what?? You can take your comments, your euphemisms, and your malarkey right on over to Fawk You Friday.

You Know How They Say..

You know how they say that the dog looks like the owner?? Yup. That's what we have here.

Wiener Wrangling and Doodle Fanoodling

I don't think I've introduced you guys to my favorite child. Yup, I've got one.

His name is Rowlf and he weighs in a whopping 25 lbs..



Yes, we are talking about a dog.





We have several animals, Rowlf, the golden doodle, Evil, the cat, Scrappy, the turtle and Dodger, the rat dog dachshund.



In January, after we had to have our Lab (who was little devil an angel, I miss her so much!!) put to sleep, a friend at church asked me if we'd let the kids have a puppy, and I asked what kind, and she said dachsund, so I said I'd have to ask Bean.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think a man would want a little rat dog.

But he did, so Oliver got Dodger.

This dog is smart and stubborn and protective and really I could care less. Sorry. I like real dogs. This dog is a rat.

So in March we got my baby, Rowlf. He's gorgeous and sweet and floppy. And stupid as can be. I love him.


For reasons that would take entirely too long to explain and are a blog post unto themselves, I put both Rowlf and Dodger in my bedroom last night.


I cleaned up everything I could find.. Bean's night stand, all the cords in the bathroom, the garbage can, everything.
And then I went to bed.


For starters, somehow Dodger managed to clim into the bed with me, which Bean has expressly forbidden.

Our bed is high, and he's a fucking wiener dog, I have no idea how he managed it..



And then when he got into bed with me, he had to kiss me to tell me that he'd done it..

I am NOT a puppy kisser..

That's one way to wake me up. Eww.


So this morning, this is what I woke up to..



And this..



And Dodger trying to look all innocent.



And Rowlf being all innocent, because I'm telling you, the boy sleeps all the time.