Category: Chief


On Monday morning, one of my coworkers alerted me that the world was predicted to be ending this coming Friday, as in Tomorrow. She said she heard on the radio that we could forget about coming into work on Saturday because the world was ending Friday night. I don’t know if this was a national prediction or if it was just one that was spread through West Michigan, but either way, I guess people were pretty serious about it on Monday morning.

Obviously, she was sharing this news with us to mock the crazy people who 1.) predicted this, and 2.) called into the radio station to discuss their plans for the week to prepare for the world ending on Friday night.  In fact, the seven minutes following her divulgence of this information, those of us in the office mocked the general public and made sarcastic comments about not being “saved” and how we’d be left on earth to face Hell (except I was serious about experiencing hell- because let’s get real, I’m definitely on God’s shit list).

Seriously, if I’m going to believe anyone about the world ending, I’m going to believe the Mayans or Aztecs or whoever the fuck came up with that calendar that ends in 2012. (I’m clearly well-versed in end-of-the-world conspiracy theories.) I just feel like that’s probably legit.  At least, more legit than some rando hyper-religious alcoholic/meth-head cult leader sitting in a lazyboy in the middle of a corn field during his four day bender shouting at his cows that the world is going to end. I mean, that profile may not be accurate, but it’s probably pretty close.

If the world does end tomorrow night, though, I’m gonna be pretty pissed.  I did not live this week as if it was my last.  I mean, I did get drunk on a Monday night and I did get to color code my planner up to the first week of July, but that is just not enough.  I mean, just today I spent my free time this evening finding a new ringtone, doodling in my econ notebook because I didn’t feel like thinking, poking around on facebook, twitter and tumblr, making dinner and taking care of Chiefy, who, incidentally, is experiencing some health issues.

The world just can’t end tomorrow. I haven’t had a chance to wear out my new ringtone. I haven’t had a chance to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2. I haven’t gone on my Study Abroad trip yet! I still have Taylor Swift’s concert to look forward to in July. My driver’s license doesn’t expire until 2013! I have food in the fridge that is still good after tomorrow.

Even if the world ends tomorrow and a bunch of people get to be saved by Jesus, I hope I’m left here.  With all the other ruffians and rejects. It’ll probably be more fun anyway because the only people left will be those with a sick sense of humor and a moral compass that doesn’t point due north, like myself. We’ll have a blast. And that way, I can still use my non-expired driver’s license and enjoy all the food still in the fridge. And all of Hollywood will still be here (because they’re fucked), so I can still see HP7.2 in July when I get home from Europe. Basically, my life will be no different.

So, I guess, here’s what I have to say about the end of the world, should it come tomorrow night: bring it. I’m ready.

I guess this might see unrelated, but maybe I'll do this sexy hair shake in preparation for the world ending.

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So, I had big plans for this week because I had, like, three consecutive days off from work.  I had biiiiig plans. I was gonna vacuum. And do all my laundry. And actually get ahead in all three of my classes this semester.  I was going to catch up on all of the TV shows I haven’t had time to watch (because I spend all my time either listening to Harry Potter or watching it on DVD (and blu-ray)). I was going to color-code my planner for the next month and really just bask in the glory of all of this Me-Time.

As I previously mentioned, I had some unexpected and extreme neck pain pop up and leave me completely useless.  I wish I could have snapped a pic of what a pathetic baby I looked like, all crooked and in pain.  I would have shared it with you so you could all laugh at me and feel sorry for me.  Because, dude, the pain was so bad. I mean, I wouldn’t liken it to childbirth or anything but it was far more than just a regular crick in the neck.  I mean, this is Day Three of this type of trauma to my body and I just… couldn’t stand it anymore.

After waking up nearly every hour (EVERY HOUR!!) last night because my neck wouldn’t stop hurting let alone allow me to find a comfortable way to sleep, and after finally popping 600mg more of Motrin at 4am, I resigned myself to the fact that I just was going to be tired for the rest of my life.  Finally, at about 7:15, I heard Chiefy Poo getting yelled at.  This was interesting because Mr. Poo Poo Face never gets yelled at.  He just doesn’t get in trouble.  He’s Mama’s little angel and Tam just fawns over him.  It’s almost ridiculous.  But sure enough, this morning, I heard Tam yelling at Poor Baby Chiefy.

“No! Chief! No! You come here! RIGHT NOW!”

I did some weird, highly attractive roll/flop out of my bed and made my way towards the stairs to head upstairs.  But then I turned around to put some pants on. And then I went upstairs to see what Chief had done.  I found him sitting by the front door with his perfect, sad puppy eyes looking up at me and his feet a curious shade of dark brown.  This is interesting because Chiefy is a lovely golden blonde color.

That was about the time Tam pointed to a hole in our yard that was not there yesterday.

I laughed and then grabbed my neck in pain and asked her if she had gotten the very important email I had sent her yesterday.

Lately, I have taken to sending emails to Tam at work with silly words in the subject line, such as “Urgent” or “Very Important” or even “Please Read Immediately!” and then there is a solitary picture of Chief doing something adorable.

For example:

Subject: Important Info.

Chiefy loves his toys!!

And that’s it. That’s all that I put in the emails. Bahahaha She never emails me back.

Yesterday, though, I sent an email where I displayed my true colors.

Subject: Urgent!!!! HIGH PRIORITY!!

Chiefy has been naughty.  He tried to dig up a plant outside my room!

She didn’t email me back.

Obviously, I’m a tattle tail.  But, like, Chief must view me as his equal, and therefore discredit my ability to scold him.  When I asked him just what the fuck he thought he was doing when I interrupted him digging on the dirt off to the side of my patio, he just kinda looked at me like excuse me, you’re interrupting my fun. I guess I’ll just go over here and bark at some geese and then run around the backyard like a maniac. 

So I just said, fine, but I’m telling Mom. And you’re gonna be in big trouble. Or, at the very least, going to miss out on a treat later.

Tam apparently saw the email but quickly forgot about it.  Because she baby’d him the normal amount she always does, so she clearly didn’t mind that the backyard is a mess because this dog likes to dig.

He’s so naughty.

But I love him anyway. In fact, I came up with a new nickname for him today: Chef Salad. I’ll see how it works.

Oh wait. Uhm….

My point was, originally, that I haven’t done all the shit I originally set out to do this week, but my original idea to post kind of got away from me because I got to talking about Chief.  The good news is that I finally went and saw a doctor this morning, so I’m on a strict regimen of Motrin and prednisone for my acute muscle spasm in my neck.  And the lady doctor told me that it’s likely that I carry my stress in my neck- something of which I was already aware.

We all know that I’m obsessed with my dog.

A few nights ago, Chiefy climbed up on my bed and we snuggled.

He’s not usually allowed on furniture and I don’t really like when he climbs on my bed because he gets his hair everywhere.  I don’t like that.

The thing is he’s just so damn cute that I can hardly resist.  And he’s a really good snuggler, so I have a hard time saying no.

Then this happened and I couldn’t even be mad that he was lying on my legs and I couldn’t move.

He was completely zonked out and it was seriously adorable.

I couldn’t bring myself to wake him so I did this instead:

Naturally, sniping a picture of his face was a better idea than waking the sleeping baby.

So, now, I’m gonna see if I can entice Chiefy into sleeping in my room tonight. He can even get his fur on my blankets. I’ll try not to hold it against him.

I wrote a ten page paper today.

And by today I mean I did it all after 4pm.

I’m not even going to get into any discussion of daylight savings time because we all know I’ll only end up confused, upset and bewildered.

I only mention it now because it pertains to my day in the sense that when I woke up this morning, it was an hour later than it would have been had it been as things were just yesterday.  I hate that we lost an hour. It meant that when I awoke at 9:06 this morning, as my clock alerted me, it was 10:06 in actuality. It meant that I had wasted that hour without the perks of gaining an actual hour of sleep or spending that time on the couch watching two episodes of Say Yes to the Dress.

And let me tell you, I did spend time on the couch this morning watching Say Yes to the Dress! However, this was done as I sulked silently about “losing an hour.”

I spent the rest of my morning sitting in my own filth and baby-talking to the dog.  He eventually grew tired of this and decided to go sleep with his butt against the wall, as he usually does.

Evidenced here:

What's this about??

And here:

he's so weird

After I tired of watching Say Yes to the Dress, I decided I would finish season one of The Sopranos.

I feel so badass when I watch that show.  Mob life fascinates me. Actually, violence and crime in general tend to fascinate me. I live such a sheltered life that I pretty much just read about it on Wikipedia or live vicariously through TV shows and movies.

It was just before 2 o’clock when I decided to shower.  Once I was clean, I definitely felt more awake but I still lacked the motivation required to write my stupid case study for class.  So, instead, I watched an entire disk of season six of Entourage (each disk contains four episodes, which are, like, thirty minutes in length).

Yeah. I’m that lazy.

It was after I had wasted almost an entire day that I decided I would begin the research I needed to do in order to write my case study. I hate that part, actually, because it takes such a long time. And it requires so much reading until you find a source that you can manipulate enough to support your point.  If I’m being honest, I started out with the intent of only using the bare minimum of three external sources besides our textbook. But the 95% I got on last week’s case study really got my goat, and I knew I really needed to exceed the minimum requirements.

Yeah. I’m that much of a perfectionist.

95% irritated me.

Who am I?

Anyway, my point is, I wrote a ten page research paper inside of five hours.  I also feel pretty good about this week’s case study.

Basically, like Charlie Sheen, I’m gonna put this day in the Win column.

Chief is molting.

His winter coat, apparently, has decided it is time to get the fuck out of town.

All weekend long, every time I touch him, his hair explodes off his body.  I’ve been pulling tufts of hair off of him, complete chunks of fur. It’s disgusting.

I spent the last twenty minutes of the Oscar Pre-Show brushing his hair to no avail.  It was never-ending.  Finally, after I was covered in as much fur as he was I decided it was time to put the brush away, wash my hands and take my clothes off.

So now Chiefy and I are watching the Oscars and avoiding how much he’s shedding.  He’s sitting happily out in the snow with his stuffed snowman head while I chill out on the couch with no pants on.

I’m having a grand time. And I don’t even like award shows. (It must be the no pants part that is making this night so excellent.)

ABC really knew what they were doing when they decided to have James Franco (omg boner) and Anne Hathaway host this year. Trying to grab that younger, hipper audience… well played.  They grabbed me as a viewer- which must mean I am both young and hip.

I’ll take it.

The only part I like about award shows is seeing what everyone is wearing, not that I even care who really designed the dresses each actress wears. I find the acceptance speeches excruciatingly awkward and embarrassing.  I hate all of that. I also have not seen any of the films that have been nominated this year. Not even Toy Story 3.

I’m not even pretending that it was me Justin Timberlake (omg boner) just presented an Oscar to.  There was no “I’d like to thank the academy…” coming out of my lips.  The second an actor gets up on stage to pretend they are not completely narcissistic and have to feign graciousness and genuine surprise, I leave the room to hang an article of clothing that has been resting on the biggest shelf in my room (aka the floor) for the past week.

Did you watch the Oscars? What’s your favorite (or least favorite!) part?!

So, I went out on the town with a couple girlfriends last weekend. It was the first time I did something social on the weekend in a month. I’m not kidding.

Oh, except for the weekend before, when the two other legs of the tripod came to my house and we stayed in and watched movies in our jammies.

Anyway.

For this night out, I made jello shots. It was the first time since junior year of college that I had anything to do with jello shots. I think a few years apart did some good. I wasn’t as irresponsible this time as I was when I was 20 years old. Well, irresponsible in the sense that I didn’t black out and throw up for two days.  There was no blacking out nor was there vomit this time. Just other… less-than-wise decisions were made.

I’m putting last Saturday night in the win column.

It seems that the only things I can successfully create in the kitchen are alcohol-related.

Without further ado…

ZOMG Yum!

  • 6 ounces of Jello (the big box!)
  • 16 ounces boiling water
  • 6 ounces cold water
  • 10 ounces alcohol

I used Bacardi Razz, obviously, to go with my raspberry jello but you can use whatever flavor jello and kind of alcohol you like!

The first thing I did was boil some water. I didn’t watch the pot the whole time, though, because we all know a watched pot never boils. (hahaha)

Then I poured the boiling water into a big measuring cup.

Next, I dissolved the jello dust into the boiling water.

Once the jello was completely dissolved, I poured in the cold water and my alcohol of choice.

PRETTY!!!

While the water was boiling, I set up the little cups the mixture was going to be going into.

I used the smallest little Dixie cups I could find. I put them in a cake pan type thingy to keep them all in one place and to cut down on the mess I was inevitably going to make.

I filled each cup a little less than half-full.

Told you I’m a mess-maker.

It was after this that I realized that using a ladle would be way easier.

This proved to be much easier. And less messy.

Once all of this alcoholic liquid was poured (or ladled) into the tiny cups, I was done! It was time to refrigerate those little babies.

pretty!!!!

I didn’t remember to get (attractive) pictures of them when we were consuming them. I did, however, manage to snipe a pic of Chiefy for you. He has a weird thing happening with his eyes, so we can pretend that it’s because he’s drunk/hungover even though it was mostly that I woke him up from a little catnap because he looked too cute for words all curled up on his blankie.

how cute is he!?!? Crazy eyes and all!

Every weekend Tam takes Chief to Petsmart.

And every weekend I hear about how much fun Chief has at Petsmart, and how everyone who sees him just falls in love with him, and how Chief makes all kinds of puppy friends. Basically everyone has a good fucking time and I miss out.

So you can bet your bottom dollar that when I saw that I had this past Saturday off from work, I was like GUESS WHAT FUCKERS! WE’RE GOING TO PETSMART!

But we didn’t get to go to Petsmart until after I went to my group meeting for my Finance class. BUT OH WAIT. While my group meeting had been set for 10:30am at the library at school, guess who was the only one there at 10:30am at the library at school. THIS GIRL. The first dude showed up at like 11:15am, the next one strolled in at 11:40am, and the last one finally came at, like, noon. WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT PART OF 10:30AM DID THEY NOT UNDERSTAND?! AND LET IT JUST BE KNOWN: I WAS NOT THE ONE WHO SET THE TIME FOR THE MEETING! MR. 11:40 DID!

JFEHE8HFEUWDPIHFUDISAFKJDSLHAI UGHHHHHHHH!!!

Anyway, that is neither here nor there.

I just counted to ten so we could calmly and rationally move on with the Petsmart story. Because I know you’re dying to know what happened.

When we pulled in the parking lot, I was still coming down from the trauma I had experienced when Tam sneak-attacked me by taking us through the carwash. Chief was cool as a cucumber through the whole ordeal but, as always, I was a basketcase. Despite the trauma, I can’t even tell you how excited I was. It was all, yes! I finally get to see Chiefy in his puppy play place!

Puppies!!

We were not inside for three minutes before he and Tam made a bee-line for the puppies to be adopted. There were two of the cutest twinsies I had ever seen! They were lab/Australian shepherd puppies and they were 12 weeks old and precious.  Chiefy knew them from his visit last week and they sniffed each other and wiggled through the cage that separated them.

Chiefy was very, very busy and, after saying hello to his puppy mates, he decided it was time to take a look at some toys and maybe pick out a bone or two.  We sniffed out the bones but they didn’t have the kind Tam likes to buy for him so then we went to investigate the section where they had those little booties they have for pets so their feet don’t get cold in the winter. Chief tried on one but it didn’t go so well. That was when we heard all kinds of commotion coming from the twin pups.

When we made our way back towards the puppies, I saw that one was being held and one was still stuck in the cage. I immediately knew what was happening. A husband and wife duo, along with their nine year old son, was adopting only one of these precious puppies.

ONLY ONE!!

The puppy in the cage was wailing and crying. The little boy knew that this puppy was facing some hard times, and he crawled in the cage to try to comfort him. Before I knew it, giant crocodile tears were cascading from my eyes and I couldn’t even pretend something was wrong with my contacts.  I quickly got Tam’s attention and told her we were either taking that extra puppy home or we needed to get the fuck out before I A) ripped that puppy from that woman’s arms and put it back in the cage with its sibling, or B) screamed at her and told her it was cruel of her to only be bringing one of them home.

We got the fuck out.

I was in the middle of a full-blown meltdown by the time we got in the car. I couldn’t stop crying even though I was embarrassed and desperately wanted to not be sobbing over the fact that a puppy didn’t get adopted that day. In fact, I cried the whole twenty minutes it took to get home.

As we pulled out of the parking lot, Tam said, “you can’t come to Petsmart anymore.”

I think that’s probably for the best.

I imagine that someday when I have babies and have to leave them somewhere it will feel like when I have to leave Chief behind.

Every time I walk out the door, I always do that last look back as I say “bye bye, baby!” and my heart breaks a little bit. His sad eyes stare back at me and he sits in the hallway, just looking at me with a face that just begs, “Please take me with you!”

The same thing happened, as it does every day, when I went to leave to run an errand. (I needed ink for my printer.) But then, lightbulb!, I had a thought.

Chief is well-behaved!

He can come with me!

Where is his leash?

Where is your leash, Chiefy?!

He started to wiggle and began searching for his red leash.

We finally found it and he hopped into the car. Away we went!

I have a hard time remembering all the things we can do with Chief because we couldn’t do a lot of things with Tag. Tag was too high-strung and protective. While he was more of a snuggle-bug than Chief is, he went into protect mode when someone came to the door. He got too excited to control himself when he was out on a walk or traveling in the car.  Single minded to the point of recklessness is what I used to say to describe him.

It makes me sad to think about Tag and how he’s not here anymore.

Anyway, Chief is super calm and doesn’t get all kinds of crazy when he gets excited. The only weird thing is that he sits backwards in the car. He also is not amused by an open window and the wind in his face.  I don’t think we share the same taste in music and he doesn’t listen when I talk to him as I drive.

Having my dog in the car with me as I ran around town made me happy. I just kept thinking that that’s what it must feel like for those people who take their yorkie or Chihuahua with them everywhere they go. Only, I wasn’t as obnoxious as those people because my dog is huge, soft and adorable and he’s not twitchy and weird.

So yeah, I guess having a dog is just like having a baby.

Just moments ago, Tam came inside saying something about how Chief was munching on some frozen dog food.

Only, Drew and I were enthralled in season 6 of Grey’s Anatomy on dvd (which he got for Christmas) and Tam is making pot roast for dinner (ew) and the pressure cooker was making that obnoxious noise it makes from that little knob on the top of the lid. It was difficult to hear and I was only half listening.

Turns out Tam was saying that Chief was outside eating some frozen dog poop.

Yeah. You read that right.

Frozen dog poop.

My dog eats his own poop.

He is BEYOND precious

Can I just say….

What the fuck?

In fact, there are a few things that I say what the fuck to because of Chief.

He’s quite peculiar.

Like yesterday, Nikki came over with her family and brought her dog Sally. Chief and Sally became fast friends and played together allllll afternoon. But when they played, Chief kept trying to sit on Sally. They would bite each other ears and run around but then Chief would whip around and put his butt on her.

What is that about?

And Chief really enjoys being wet.

He found an open spot on the otherwise frozen lake and hopped right in. Just decided he’d take a dip. Then he got out, rolled in the snow and got back in the water. And then he cried at the door when it started raining the other day because Michigan weather is outrageous and it went from being freezing cold outside to 52 degrees and raining. He cried at the door because he wanted to go outside and sit in the rain.  He just sat there. Hangin’ out in the rain. And just yesterday, when I turned around to let him in from being outside, I was surprised to see him soaking wet. It wasn’t raining and the ground wasn’t even wet anymore. But then I realized that the cover to the grill had been on the floor of the deck and there had been a puddle and some ice on it. Chief had found it and rolled in it, effectively covering himself in water.

It seems we have figured out if he likes water or not.

Sure, you hear golden retriever and think that of course he’ll like water. But let me just tell you, Ruby, the golden retriever at my dad’s house, does not like water and does not enjoy swimming and being soaking wet like my Chiefy poo does.

I’m so happy we have a dog again.

Our family got a very special early Christmas present.

His name is Chief. He’s 17 months old and approximately 85 pounds. He is large.

We adopted him.

Look at that face!!

He is precious.

Chief enjoys being outside. He loves the snow: eating it and rolling in it. He also has taken a great liking to the screened in porch and roaming the deck. I now refer to the screened in porch as his “play pen.” We also had to buy a new baby-gate so he doesn’t get all crazy all over the entire house when we are gone and at work.

Now’s as good a time as any to mention that Stella is not pleased. Chiefy-poo tried to climb under my mom’s bed last night just minutes after we brought him home to introduce himself to her, but she was pissed. Stella hissed at him, a lot. Then Mom got worried that he would get stuck under the bed so she called him out from under there and distracted him with a red toy with a bell in it.

After he eats, he gets a little gassy. He burps a lot, and loudly. I giggle every time.

He is heavy on his feet. When he walks, it’s always a clomp clomp clomp clomp everywhere he goes. This might annoy me if he weren’t so damn cute. And funny. He also makes a loud crash when he lays down. He just drops. It’s outrageous. I love it.

My mom took him for a walk this morning down the road to see the cows. Chief was not sure what to make of the cows.

We are still learning about each other, but I can tell you this: I’m already in love.

Admit it, you fell in love a little bit too just by looking at his pictures. 🙂