About Me

Monday, January 31, 2011

Sipping on some Sizzurp

The past two weeks I have had a lingering cough. Mostly just at night when I am trying to sleep. One more obstacle standing between me and sleep. Awesome.

In an attempt to conquer the cough and lack of sleep, I have been taking small doses of Nyquil. But the generic kind. So Highquil or Sizzurp or KrogerQuil or whatever.  A couple of days ago, thanks to the Walquil, I kept having these insane half-awake/half-asleep thoughts about getting a dog. Weird, right?

When I fully woke up, I kept thinking about dogs. I like dogs. I prefer to have cats as pets. Low-maintenance, small, clean themselves, cheaper. All good things. My roommate and tons of my friends are allergic to cats. No cat for me. The thing about dogs is they are a lot of work. And why must they always smell so foul? Even the cleanest of dogs still smells occasionally. I really hate bad smells.

In my heart I know that if I got a dog it would go one of two ways:

1. I would love the dog beyond reason. Everyone else on the planet earth would hate the dog and accuse the dog of infecting them with weird diseases. NOT THAT I AM BITTER ABOUT MADDOX AND THE CAT SCRATCH FEVER ACCUSATIONS!!! Another story for another day. The dog would have poor social skills. I would find this amusing. Others would not. Right now I have a German accented quote running through my head, it sounds like this, "Your cat! He wants to bite me!" Ha-larious! To me.

2. I would think the dog was just okay but all of my people would completely love the dog beyond reason and then one day the dog would do something that I didn't care for and I would be "over it" and give the dog away. Or the dog would get sick and I would be like "oh sad" and then put the dog to sleep and never shed a tear or feel regret. Or the dog would run away and disappear or get hit by a car. Everyone would be sad and horrified in any and all of these scenarios and I would end I looking like a sociopathic monster because I wouldn't care that much.

Now if you are reading this and thinking that I am evil I have one question for you: You are from the city aren't you? Yeah. You are. I can feel it.

I am not evil. It's a coping mechanism. Ivan, Penny, Molly, Blue, Bruno, Kirby, Pup, Auggie, Tippy, Casey, and I am sure I am forgetting some. All dogs my family had. We never had more than 2 or 3 dogs at a time. So that's how many we went through in 18 years.  Auggie got hit by a truck and died before my very eyes. Pup was my favorite and slowly and heartbreakingly developed some weird paralysis on one side. Terrible to see. Kirby was deaf and blind. Molly got a leg caught in barbwire and had to have it amputated. She went on to live quite happily as a three-legged dog until she ran off. Not so fun fact: Hunting dogs like to run away and die in private. And leave their families in suspense about where they are and whether or not they are alive or dead.  Ivan was ran over by my school bus immediately after I boarded it. Joke I used to tell: Our house is where people send their pets to die.

Sad stuff, right? Eh.

I have some fond memories of our family pets, I just don't feel overly sentimental about any of them.  I was a country girl. They were outside dogs. I never slept with them, walked them,  or necessarily even played with them. They would drag dead opossums into the front yard. Not endearing.

They didn't eat scraps from the table or do tricks. They functioned as doorbells and alarms. "Stranger is here! Stranger is here! Stranger is within a 10 mile radius! There is a raccoon on the property and we will now bark at it for 4 hours straight while you are trying to sleep! We will now jump on you with our muddy paws when you are trying to board the school bus!"



Recently I was told a story about someone who raised adorable fluffy little ducklings into full grown ducks and then ate them. The story was told to me like this: "HE. ATE. THEM!! CAN. YOU. BELIEVE. THAT??" I didn't say much in response but what I was thinking was: "I have never ate duck. Huh. I wonder if I would like duck? Probably not."

All of that being said: This makes my heart melt into a pathetic little puddle and all I can think is: I WANNA PUPPY!

This post was sponsored by Wal-Kill, I mean Wal-Quil. Okay, okay, it was actually sponsored by my Kroger Nite Time cough syrup induced hallucinations. 


  1. I totally get ya! We had an outdoor dog and cats (we went through cats like you went through dogs). I guess I am somewhat a country girl. Who knew.

  2. This made me throw my head back and laugh out loud! Having said that, I ADORED Ivan. He was the dog of my dreams (the one that got hit by the school bus). Oh! so traumatic. My next favorite: Pup, Tippy, and the smartest dog ever was my last Aussie, who I was only able to have for 6 wonderful months. If I'd only known I would have him for that long, I probably would not have gotten him. sigh. I forgot that lovely little things name, but it will come to me tonight... sigh, sigh, sigh. Did you know Anna Belle Blue? I think he was there when Rita was the only child left on the farm. I gave her away because she was uncontrollable. sigh.

  3. I remember Blue. ...and maybe Ivan. More accurately, I think I remember Ivan chasing Dad's van whilst driving away. I LOVE the old pictures, lots of great memories! Also, I read your blog now. Cousin, out.

  4. Oh man, I am not sure which cousin!! Okay vans......ummmmm......didn't all of our parents have vans at one point? This is the most exciting guessing game ever!

  5. I remember Blue. ...and maybe Ivan. More accurately, I think I remember Ivan chasing Dad's van whilst driving away. I LOVE the old pictures, lots of great memories! Also, I read your blog now. Cousin, out.