Since Jake has come to live with us he’s had to spend a considerable part of every day inside.  The weather has been cold and he’s not exactly equipped for low temperatures.  So, when the sun is high and the temperature breaks 60 degrees we’ll put him out for half an hour or so in the afternoon.  Even when there’s snow on the ground he walks all around the yard sniffing everything, occasionally raising his face up to the sun.  Admittedly he looks a little feeble.  He sort of limps, shakes a lot, hunches over, bumps into everything (he’s blind, after all), and frequently just stands in a corner staring at facing the fence or the patio table leg.  Also, because of some trouble with one of his eyes he has an interesting haircut.  Because of all this I’m not completely surprised when people walking by our house stop to ask about him.  Once I put him out, went back inside to change a diaper, and when I went back out to get him 5 minutes later there was a woman standing at the fence who looked rather like she was plotting a rescue attempt.

This weekend a stranger who was walking by our house actually knocked on the door.  Cody answered it.

Stranger:  Hi, I’m sorry to bother you but I think your dog is injured.

Cody: *sticks his head out to look at Jake* Nope, he’s just old.

We’re thinking of amputating one of his legs.  Then, instead of being the people who abandon the old, sick, blind, deaf, (apparently) injured, skinny poodle in the snow we’d be the people who rescued a three-legged, special needs dog and gave him exercise time in a fenced yard, food, companionship, and a warm home.

Our house has been full for a month or two now.  Four adults, one toddler, one cat, and one dog.  Today we’re thankful for a lot of things, like not adopting that little kitten that we saw at the humane society who was so cute and cuddly and fluffy and adorable and fit just perfectly in the palm of Cody’s hand.  Even though he said the cat was precious and was clearly smitten.  Maybe not “precious” specifically.

Anyway, I digress.

My point is that we have plenty of good company, we’re quite happy and thankful for it, and no there will be no tofurkey on our Thanksgiving table.  So quit asking.

Here’s hoping that you are happy, healthy, and well fed.

…And then we painted the kitchen a lovely shade of grey/green.  And then we weather stripped three doors.  And then we tore out the basement sink, stove, fridge, and counter.  And then we fixed some copper plumbing.  And then we tore out some storage cabinets.  And then the radon guys drilled some holes in the foundation and ran some pipes.  And then we tore out a door jam to fit a washer and dryer through.  And then we took down an interior door because it just made more sense.  And then the radon guys drilled some more holes and installed some more pipe.  And then we tore some concrete out of the yard.  And then we removed the last of this season’s garden.  And then we cut down a tree and took two stumps out of the ground.  And then we replaced the garbage disposal (thrice).  And then we tilled up next season’s garden.  And then we built a storage shed, filled it, and enjoyed it’s storage capacity.  And then we added a bar support to the clothes bar in our closet.  And then we found a leak in the kitchen sink plumbing.  And then we removed all the wet sheet rock from the spot on the basement ceiling where it was leaking through (for assessment purposes, you know).  And then we put a bucket under the sink and contemplated a judicious use of duct tape until after Thanksgiving.

During that time I:  Bathed the dog(‘s butt) a dozen times.  Cleaned up 1/2 a dozen “accidents” (one of which was the Frankie’s! What??!).   Packed, moved, unpacked, repacked.  Mopped, scrubbed, scoured, washed, dusted, repeat.  Made how many phone calls to utility companies?  Made how many requests for our deposit from the lazy landlord?  Bought a new microwave, toaster, and coffee pot.  Made apple butter for the neighbors to apologize for a) the noise from all that concrete removal and b) breaking their ax while tearing out the stumps.  Cursed at the Caridnals for Tom because I feel sorry for him and thought he could use some help (and because he is closet-supporting the Steelers and it only seemed fair) (Yes Tom, I just outed you.  Maybe one of those cheerleaders you’re so proud of has something to make you feel better.)

P.S. By “we” I really mean Cody and Matthew.  Though I was totally there in spirit and I did help with some of those things, like discovering the leak and removing this season’s garden.  But, let’s face it, I was up to my elbows in poop and probably smelled bad, so really I don’t think they’d have wanted me around anyhow.

Cheeks is sitting in his high chair playing with a piece of bread that he is supposed to be eating.

“If you’re not going to eat that then I’m going to take it away” I say, pointing to the bread.

Cheeks looks up at me and stuffs the whole piece in his mouth.

Cody watches this scene with a smug look on his face.   Shaking his head he chides, “He owns you.”