Robin Chartier – Page 146

continuing on

with the theme of “gross things in my life this week,” I finally got rid of the cat this morning. I had to wait for it to actually die before I could shovel it into a plastic bag, so I spent yesterday afternoon and evening checking on its breathing. The dog didn’t know what to make of it — he’d sniff it and whine and then walk away puzzled. I’ve been watching The Glades every night on Netflix (thanks Kristy! loving it!) and although I’d like to think I could be the cute forensic nurse that helps solve crimes, after dealing with the cat, I don’t think dead bodies are my thing.

Of course when I went to run the dog at the “beach” (our mud flats) the dog found a dead seagull and carried it around like a prize.

He stayed out of reach so I couldn’t take it away from him and proceeded to eat the rotting carcass. Dogs are disgusting animals.

He’s doing a full body wiggle of joy over his treat.

Every time I distracted him and got him away from it for a minute he’d go running right back.

Eventually I took it away from him and chucked it into the water (just what I wanted to do, handle a rotting and disease covered bird with my bare hands), knowing he wouldn’t swim after it. (He’ll get his feet wet, but hasn’t discovered the joy of swimming.) So instead he just waited on the shore until the current brought it close enough to retrieve it.

I give up.

Chaotic

Picture me, late for baseball practice (the bane of my existence anyway), in a flurry of sweatshirt hunting madness since it’s been freezing here all week (50s with an Arctic wind), a dog who won’t get out of the car because he knows we’re leaving him behind so he hops out one side of the car and leaps in any other open door (repeat 3 times), a child who gets his foot smashed in the car door in an attempt to keep the dog out, me running on caramel corn and Ritz crackers, meanwhile there’s a stray cat dying in my front yard. If you guessed that Josh was out of town this week, you’d be right.

In case you’re of the “pictures or it didn’t happen” variety, here’s my half dead cat. I need to find a shovel .…

pork room

We don’t eat a lot of pork (except for birthday bacon) so I rarely visit the Pork Room when I go to the grocery store. A new British grocery store opened near our house and Josh and I went to check it out to do some price comparisons. Since we were exploring the place we wanted to see what their pork room looked like. We did find some interesting looking bacon that we’ll have to cook up at the end of the month for Josh’s birthday breakfast and at “only” $6/lb it wasn’t overpriced.

I have no idea why Tostitos are in the pork room. I suspect they ran out of shelf space in the main part of the grocery store and someone got creative. I guess the flavoring agents in their “touch of lime” seasoning blend could have traces of pork, but . . .

I know there’s nothing piggy about plain Tostitos (except for the way I eat them with my favorite salsa).

In the background, Josh and other non-Muslim customers are sampling ham. The best part of the pork room is the sign outside that says, “For Non-Muslims only,” but I forgot to take a picture of the sign. It’s crazy how this stuff is becoming normal.

The Forbidden Meat

I don’t know if this is a British thing or what, but who eats pig ears? (Besides my dog.) Seriously gross. I think I even still see earwax in them. Ugh.

And pig feet? No thanks (though I’d rather eat the feet than those icky ears.)

In the parking lot, accidentally blending Arabic and English to get ‘Thank Godness.’
(Josh said the Arabic is technically ‘Thank Allah’ or ‘Thank God,’ but the phrase is used similarly to the way we would say ‘Thank Goodness.’)

DAB loop

Kristy (my sister) requested some photos of our neighborhood. Since I walk the dog everyday, that was an easy wish to grant. A few weeks back I started listening to the Daily Audio Bible when I walk the dog. As much as I intend to, I don’t take the time to read the Bible every day, even though I wish I did (not disciplined, remember?)

Since I love to multi-task so there’s no “wasted” time (leaving me plenty of time to waste watching TV while I knit and eat chocolate) I decided that I could listen to the Bible while I walk the dog. He’d get exercise, I’d get exercise, I’d be motivated to keep walking as long as I had something to listen to that occupied my mind, and I’d be working time in God’s word into my daily routine. Win. Win. Win. Win. Win-Win.

What I didn’t anticipate is that Genesis and Matthew are filled with references to ISRAEL and the God of the JEWS and since I walk around with the Bible playing through my speaker, I’m often flinching and trying to jam my fingers into the speaker holes to muffle the “offensive words.” Invariably it sounds like this, “[soft, soothing voice] I am the Lord God of [super loud] ISRAEL.” And always when I’m walking past a group of Muslims on their way to the mosque. Oops.

That thing that looks like a covered wagon is where the blimp hangs out. It looks like it’s out flying right now, since it’s not in the “barn.”

We live in a mostly residential neighborhood that is surrounded by major streets on 4 sides. I try to walk in the middle rather than on the perimeter because the traffic noise gets so loud that I can’t hear what Brian (DAB narrator) is saying and I have to hold my phone with the speaker holes right to my ear so it looks like I have one of those old fashioned ear horn things. (Josh told me that’s what it looks like. That’s a cute look, right?)

Since Micah pulls when he walks with a collar, I walk him on a harness with the leash clipped to the front. It keeps him from yanking on my arm since if he does take off after one of the many cats in our neighborhood, when he hits the end of the leash it turns him around to face me.

Dirt lots, huge villas, and cruddy apartments all in the same neighborhood.

There is tons of construction going on right now. Tis the season I guess. (The season of bearable temperatures where workers won’t end up with heat stroke.) They start hammering at 6am every day but Friday.

The hammering doesn’t bother me since the Call to Prayer from the super loud mosque near us goes off even earlier than that (before sunrise). You learn to sleep through it all. The tall towers are where the loudspeakers are contained so the sound of the prayer is sure to travel far and wide.

Do I see a cat?

Almost an accident — 3 cars, no stop signs, no rules

Heading back toward home. By now I’ve finished the Bible passages (He reads from Old Testament, New Testament, a Psalm and a few verses from Proverbs every day and finishes the entire Bible in one year) and have moved on to a podcast (Dave Ramsey or Wait Wait! Don’t Tell Me! usually) or an audiobook.

No matter how many times we do this walking thing, the dog can not figure out that cars are not his friend. He has no concept of staying out of the street and if a car drives straight at him he’ll just keep trotting along like it’s made of marshmallows and poses no danger to him at all. I’m constantly easing him toward the shoulder of the road.

almost home

This used to be our dirt lot where the boys would come walk the dog. Now it looks like they are turning it into two villas.

Home!

To this charming princess (who was mad that I gave her dry Cheerios and kept screaming “I want dry cereal!” Okaaay . . .

death wish

Someone forgot to tell our dog that he’s not supposed to eat chocolate. Yesterday I made my chocolate banana bread with chocolate chips and a bunch of dark chocolate baking powder. Since I can’t turn on the oven (not wanting another arm hair removal episode) I pushed the two pans to the back of the stove until Josh came home and went off to hang out with the two year old.

Thirty minutes later the dog plopped down next to us upstairs making some odd wheezing noises in his throat. Since strange noises aren’t that unusual for him, I didn’t think anything about it until later when I saw that the dumb dog had put his front paws up on the stove, stretched out his neck, and chowed down on my chocolate batter, including part of the parchment paper that I used to line the pans (I’m assuming the wheezing was him trying to clear the paper bits out of his throat). He ate one entire loaf and half of another. That’s a lot of chocolate for a dog.

Since he’s still on the “survival of the fittest” health insurance plan I didn’t bother to call the vet to ask about stomach pumping or other medical treatment that he may or may not need. Instead I fed him some peroxide (which didn’t make him throw up) so I figure he must have a cast iron stomach.

I’d say he looks fine. Lucky scavenger.