timothy j. lambert

Moments ago I bathed both Rex and Pixie in the driveway with dog shampoo and the hose. A major feat of juggling was involved to get task accomplished, let me tell you. As soon as Rex was done Pixie leaped on him, planting her muddy paws on his shiny, clean coat. Bitch. I rinsed him, and then whisked him into the apartment before Pixie could get her paws on him. Then it was her turn. Rex is very still when he's being bathed, because it's attention and he loves attention. Pixie, not so much was she still. There was much running, dancing, prancing, like a ballerina on speed. (Believe me when I say that I know what that looks like.) I had to leave her new collar on, hold it, and bathe her with my free hand. Now, both dogs are clean, wet, and very playful. Pixie is currently doing laps around and over the sofa because Rex is chewing on a bone with his butt in the air and his eyes flashing wild. He's hoping she'll take the bone away from him so he can chase her. She's hoping he'll run with it so she can chase him. However, she doesn't dare take the bone away from him, because he'll bark loudly, snap, and snarl like a raging lunatic asshole at her if she does and she's no fool.

Kinda.

Greetings from Hanley Inc.! The Big H would like everyone to know that peas should be the new currency, because they're delicious and almost as good as sucking on fabric.

The Big H would also like to add that strained beans are definitely adding to the growth and development of product at Hanley Inc.

Speaking of eating, there's a new acquisition at Hanley Inc. This is Teaspoon, a pit bull puppy who was rescued from a stupid bastard--I mean, backyard breeder. You probably can't see it in the photos, but she has a club foot on one of those hind legs. It could be that her mother chewed her toes off. Oops. Here are two photos of Teaspoon enjoying her puppy gruel.

jump

Cause Rex is the miggida miggida miggida Mac Daddy.

Whenever I write a post about my foster dogs, I always want to paint a rosy picture in case someone local stumbles upon the entry and thinks I must adopt that dog immediately! But I know that honesty is always the best policy and it's very important that potential dog owners know absolutely everything about their new dog, good and bad. With that in mind, I feel the need to jot down something I neglected to mention about Pixie in my last post. On her first day in my apartment, I was bringing a load of laundry upstairs and Pixie was at my heels. I dumped the clothes onto my bed and was about to fold them when Pixie squatted at my feet and peed on the floor while gazing up at me with adoration, as if to say Hi! I'm Pixie! Aren't I cute?

At that moment, no, not so much. I reached down and gently pushed her as I exclaimed, "No!" Then I scooped her up and deposited her outside. As I cleaned the carpet I mused over the fact that it's probably somewhat pointless to put her outside after she peed, because she already peed. It's not like she had to go anymore. But I did interrupt her, which is good, so maybe she still had some pee left to...pee.

Was I mad? No. She's just a little girl who's had absolutely no training at all. I'm willing to bet that's the first time anyone's ever corrected her poor behavior before. Did she learn anything from that moment? Maybe. On her first night I crated her while I slept and when I woke up and let her out of the crate, I noted that she'd peed on the blanket and pillow inside. And she did the same thing later on when I crated her while I was at the gym. After a long discussion about wasting water and the price of laundry detergent, I returned the still warm blanket and pillow from their second go 'round in the dryer to her crate and then beckoned her inside as well. After Pixie sniffed their springtime freshness, I asked her to sit down in the crate. She sat and received much praise. Then I asked her to lie down. Then I asked her to lay down. While the editor within quarreled, Pixie gently dropped down on the blanket and rolled onto her back so I could scratch her belly, which I did gladly. Then I sat back and did nothing. She did the same. My computer is next to her crate, so I carefully eased myself into my chair so as not to disturb her and started reading blogs. After a few moments she sighed audibly and closed her eyes, which could only mean This is my crate now. I'll soil it no longer.

The crate has been dry ever since, as has been the rest of my apartment. I think she's getting the hang of this housebreaking thing.

I have yet another foster dog. As much as I adore Jackson, he's a bit big for my apartment. Also, I worried that Becky wouldn't be able to handle him when I was at Hanley Inc., so he's staying at Happy Tails until we find him a new foster home. Which is good, because he'll have a blast playing with all the dogs there. This morning I picked up Trixie, a dog that was surrendered. There's another Trixie in Scout's Honor already, so today my Trixie became Pixie. Which fits her better, I think. She's kind of waiflike. She's also kind of Rex-like. Here's a photo of them together.

And another:

Had a great week at Hanley Inc. today. The Big H and I watched some propaganda films today, something called Your Baby Can Read. The boss lady was totally into it. I was bored after the first five minutes. Then I remembered that I already can read, so I flipped through some magazines and said "Elephant!" every now and then. She seemed to accept my minimal participation. Afterward, we switched to cable and watched Rosemary's Baby. When Mia Farrow finally saw her demon baby and screamed, "What have you done to his eyes?" Hanley laughed loudly and kicked her feet over and over with joy. It's now my goal to have that be her first complete sentence.

For the past month there have been a series of product testers at Hanley Inc. I'm not sure from where they were recruited, but they're all small with limited vocabularies, so I'm guessing Alaska or Iowa. The first product tester--I'll refer to him as Christopher, since that's his name--has been around the longest and has an inordinate interest in all things video game. He's done extensive research in the field of Triscuits and Cheerios. Unfortunately, Hanley Inc. hasn't sunk its teeth into that market yet. The company is barely seven months old. It has no teeth. However, Christopher has proved very effective in making the boss lady laugh, which is time well spent, in my opinion. Another product tester, Skylar (I think that's how her name is spelled.), barely lasted a week at Hanley Inc. She was extremely capable and wise beyond her years, as most women are, but she was very chatty. When she wasn't talking she was watching television. I learned a lot about those Jonas boys while she was around. The last product tester, Baylor, arrived last Tuesday and left today. After his stint at Hanley Inc. he's off to space camp in Huntsville, Alabama, which can only mean he's a smartypants. I don't think he got much work done. He and Christopher played a lot of Halo most of the time. Apparently these people are all related to the boss lady in one way or another, which explains how they got their jobs.

Speaking of the boss lady, she grabbed my nipple today and twisted it while she was drinking her lunch. Now I can say I was sexually harassed at work by a baby.

Photo Friday, Number 24. Theme: Eyes.

Lloyd.

I took a few photos of Jackson today, but they didn't turn out so well. But this one isn't that horrendous. Anyway, this is Jackson. He's a big pup. I think he's a brindle great dane mix. Not sure about that, though. The only thing I really know about him is that he was found running the streets of Houston. He can't be more than a year or two old. He's very sweet and loves to play. I have a large Kong that I bought years ago for River that no dog has ever played with. Which is crazy when you think about all the dogs that have been in and out of The Compound. Jackson loves it. He's been running around with it all night. Occasionally he'll stop by and drop it in my lap, leaving a misleading wet mark on my crotch. Thanks, Jackson! He's an excellent Frisbee dog. He knows how to sit and lay down, but it doesn't last long because he wants to be rewarded NOW PLEASE!

If you're in Houston and want to meet Jackson, please go to the Scout's Honor Web site and fill out an adoption application. And here's another photo. I had to retouch it a bit. (I borrowed a photo from you, Rio. Thanks!)

I know, I know. I'm utter crap at updating, lately. Let me see if I can remember what's happened the past couple of weeks. Part of the reason for that is because I bought a new something. My old something was on the verge of collapsing, so purchasing the new something was vital. Unfortunately, I had to leave the next day to spend five days house and dog sitting for Lynne in the 'burbs, so I couldn't play with my new something right away.

Spending time in the 'burbs was nice. It wasn't as hot, oddly enough, and there were hardly any mosquitos, and now that I'm on a new schedule it wasn't as horrendous when Lynne's dogs woke me at 6:30 every morning. However, I hadn't been to Lynne's house since I quit smoking, which I didn't take into account before I went there, so whenever I found myself in a Now what? moment, I had to talk myself out of buying a pack of cigs many times. Many, many times. But I didn't smoke. Yay me.

Before I left for Lynne's I turned Maverick over to Regina, his previous foster mom. She left for an extended trip to New Mexico and thought it would be fun to take Maverick with her. Apparently, there'll be lots of open space in which he can run and play, and many lizards to chase. Plus, Regina was going alone, so she was grateful for his company. How could I refuse that? (Plus, she's been waffling for ages now about adopting him, so I'm hoping this will seal the deal.) I was sad to see him go, though. He's a cute little rascal. But no one was sadder than Rex to see him go. I took Rex with me to Lynne's and he was glued to my ankles the entire time. He barely played with Lynne's dogs. All he wanted to do was follow me around. When we returned home he ran to Maverick's food bowl, sniffed it, and then looked up at me as if to say, It smells like the fun dog, but I don't see the fun dog anywhere around here. Why is that? So I said to Rex, "Maverick is still in New Mavericko, being mavericky, in the land of mavericks, with all the other mavericks. I'm sure you'll see him again soon."

Meanwhile, I'm picking up an interim foster dog later today named Jackson. I don't think he's on the Scout's Honor site yet. But, until he is, look! It's Princess Leia!

slim's return

(Or, somebody's watching me)