Sometimes, life just feels right.
I don’t know if I could come up with a better way to spend a weekend than I did this week. Not that it was anything unusually fantastic. It was just–good.
As I spent Friday evening rushing from store to store buying presents, food, and decorations, Sean and the kids had a fun evening with Sean’s brother, Patrick, and his younger two kids. The evening ended with Patrick and the kids spending the night in preparation for Saturday.
We woke up Saturday morning, had a big breakfast, then met my younger brother, Drew, and his family at a local produce farm for the annual pumpkin picking. The morning was spent looking at the animals in their petting farm, going through a corn maze (not, unfortunately, this hilarious one that my sister visited), then taking a hay ride out to the field to find the perfect pumpkins. Everyone had a blast.
That afternoon, with Elaine and her family, my parents, and Sean’s dad added to the mix, we had a big birthday party for the September/October birthdays in the family. I think I kept my “cool aunt” status by giving a couple of nieces a game of laser tag for their birthdays (and Patrick kept his “cool uncle” status by giving the same game to W~). We ate, we played, we spent time together. Life was good.
And I laughed. A lot. Sean actually told me that I should curb my laughter, but I just couldn’t help it. This was the first time that Rude the Dog (aka Jake) came down for a visit. For those who don’t know, Rude/Jake is the German shepherd that my brother-in-law couldn’t wait to buy from a guard dog school after their beloved saint bernard passed away.
Have I ever mentioned that, despite her short and portly build, my little Fat Dog has an extremely Alpha personality? And she does not like other dogs to venture into her yard. Therefore, every time that Rude/Jake would try to cross the invisible line into our grass, Genji would come flying out of nowhere, short legs carrying her fat body as fast as it could go, and barking hysterically. And this big german shepherd would turn tail and bolt. Every. Single. Time.
By the time Elaine and her family left, I think that Genji was making a game of it. She would sit and watch as Jake got further and further into our yard. Then, slowly, she’d get up, stretch, punch the air a few times to build her adrenaline (ok, maybe not), then send him scurrying away. It was a riot.
Fat Dog and Rude the Dog were not my only canine sources of amusement this weekend, though. My other shih tzu, Thunder (what a horribly misnamed dog, Pierre would have fit his personality sooooo much better), discovered on Saturday that the battery is not currently working in his invisible fence collar. There has been no living with him ever since.
By the end of the party Saturday, Thunder had weaseled his way into my parents’ house. My dad (who Thunder already adores) made the fatal error of opening a cupboard and giving him a dog bone. Thunder has been whining at their back door constantly since then. He’s had tv time with Grandpa, did Sunday dinner with us tonight, and has ingested more dog bones than he would normally get in the span of months (since we don’t usually buy them). From inside our house this morning, he somehow heard my dad walk outside to get the newspaper and went tearing out the door to greet him.
Sean and I have taken to singing “People let me tell you ’bout my beeest friend…” as Thunder heads out the door. If he could, I think he would eventually take up permanent residence over there.
Life for him will suck when we get a new battery for that collar. I wonder if they make Zoloft for dogs?