I'm going to start with Buelah. Queen B. Captain Two Teeth. Booger, Boo-lah, Little Momma. Lady. Old Lady B. Beautiful Buelah. Girlfriend. Stink butt. Stinky. Sweetie-Peetie.....you know... I'm starting to see why she might not always listen to me...
This girl...is crazy. It takes an endless amount of supplements to keep her skin hydrated, specially allergy food for her coat. She hates water of all kinds. Loves to sleep half way off of her dog bed, and believes herself to be the only dog in the room, as well as literally right in way. We often call her Buelah in the Way. Good Lord. She's traveled with us, albeit not more than 10 hours. Stayed in hotels, licked the man's plate after dinner more times than I care to count, and is every bit the 13 year old Bully she should be.
We got her just shortly after we got married. She came into the house with the original fur child Queen Tigger (may he rest easy on the other side of the rainbow bridge.) Then there came the indefinite house guest, who came to stay for a little bit then 7 years later had to be laid to rest at around 18 years of age. Now there's Binx.
He's basically a tiny ninja bully, or a small bull in a very large china shop. He loves his sister Buelah, she's not necessarily fan of him, but at just two years of age... that terd monkey is definitely a twochebag. (It's the modern equivalent of the terrible twos.) He has tons of energy, which is great... except...when it's not. Hello 3 A.M. pounce fest or messing with sister. He also oscillates between being the cuddliest little monster and and actual oh-my-good-god-monster.I've loved each of my four legged babies, but tonight I want to tell you my FAVORITE Buelah story, EVER. It was Christmas eve 2015 and it had been one of the toughest years of our life together. Earlier that year our IUI failed. The hubs lost his dad very unexpectedly, we had to say goodbye to Tigger between his dad's passing and the funeral. It was one thing right after another. Not to mention.. I think this was the year the basement flooded too....anyway.
Prior to the 2015 Christmas, Buelah had Tigger and Nakita to blame things on. The man working for a bread company at the time would come home with copious amounts of buns or bread, or rolls. Sometimes a box full!
There had been one week in particular where the man came home, we placed the bread on the counter top, only to both come home the next day and find it half gone on the kitchen floor. Assuming the cats knocked it over and the dog helped herself, we decided to try a different tactic. This time placing the bread on the same counter but the box flipped upside and pushed against the wall.
Nope. Same story. Came home and the the rest of the bread was gone!
After a few years of the vet urging me to take her on walks and make her more active, we began to believe now that both cats had passed, she would no longer have snack thieve helpers.
(Big and Beautiful I say!)
Now, flash forward. It's a snowy, cloudy, Christmas even, and I pull into the church parking lot only to receive a call from my husband.
Me: "Hey what's up everything okay?"
The Man: "I caught your dog in the act!"
Me: laughing "Oh yeah, of what?"
The Man: "She was on the counter."
Me: silence..."How...is that even possible?"
Yeahhhh I needed him to run that by me one more time. You see these pictures. You see those legs. Ask yourself...do you think that little woman jumped her way up to the counter?
Nope. Exhibit A.
This girl... FOR YEARS, had us in the belief that the cats were just helping her out, minding their own business... just doing cat things, and knocking stuff over. NOPE! This was a all a lie.
I begged him to snap a picture, but to was too late. The thing is that stink butt having woken up from her early morning nap, believed both of us to be gone, decided it was time for a post nap snack.
Helping herself to her normal daily routine. The man had been in the basement going through some of his dad's things, to hear shuffling noises upstairs. Thinking the dog was up or even to check out the noise (he can't remember) he decided to return up the short stairway to see what was going on. As he crested the top of the stairs, there she was. Half way between the counter and the table. She knew, she had been caught.
Needless to say we stopped placing things on that counter and after one completely torn through ACL, she's not allowed on anything anymore.
Alright friends, thank for you stopping by. With all my love.
A
Talk to you tomorrow Day 3 #WeWearOrange
P.s. for resources please visit https://infertilityawareness.org
P.p.s. Please consider donating to these two miracle babies who just lost their dad in a tragic motorcycle accident.
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