Weston loves to cuddle.  He is one of the most affectionate dogs I’ve ever seen.  I don’t know what it is, but he’s always been like this.  Maybe it’s because he came into our lives when he was younger than he should have been.  Maybe he has always been, since that first day, treated like our child.  Maybe it’s just that he’s so emotional.  Whatever the reason, he loves a good cuddle.  His two favorite cuddling positions are one, laying on his back while I cradle him and pet his belly as we sit in a recliner.  And two… morning snuggle time.  He loves to spoon.  This is hilarious, but true.

Weston is, after all, a little creature of habit, just like his sister.  He’s also a smart one.  A pain in the ass to be sure, but that’s a post for another time.  I’m usually on my side with my arm out.  He lays right up against me, over my arm, puts his head on the pillow, and then wants me to put my other hand on his back.  He also likes it if he’s so close that my head sort of lays on him and the pillow at the same time.  It’s so funny.  And yes, I sometimes cuddle him.  He gets a couple of minutes of this and sometimes longer if I actually fall asleep in this position.  It cracks me up.  He would like this to happen every day, which it doesn’t, but he’d very much like it if it did.

His little sister has her thing too…

We get ready for bed and all get in.  Each dog in their little dog beds on our bed.  We all sort of relax and just when it gets quiet and mellow, Riley decides she needs to get back up.  She stands up, one of us says to her, OK… go get a drink.  She jumps down, goes to the water bowl, drinks really loudly for a tiny 10 pound dog, jumps back up, and lays back down.  Every night, same routine.

Bedtime.  9:30 rolls around and they both get surly and disgusted if we don’t go to bed.  If we are in the media room Riley is in a dog bed on a chair and Weston is usually asleep on the couch or laying on me.  One of us gets up to get a drink or something and they both sit up, on alert, waiting for us to say the magic words… time for bed.  They will even jump down, start to head upstairs in the hope that it’s time.  We have to say to them… not yet.  Not quite yet.  Being the little creatures of habit that they are it’s tough for them to alter their course.

Ah well… the wind is still blowing out there now.  The sun is up and so are we.  I’m sitting on the couch in the living room typing away around Riley, who is laying on my lap.  Yes, it’s hard to type with a dog in ones lap.  Weston is laying next to me, pressed up against my leg.  It’s time for breakast though and they are starting to let me know.  Riley has just jumped up and gotten in my face.  Weston keeps nudging me.  OK, OK… I get the message.  Loud and clear.  Don’t want to mess with the routine…

After I saw Alfie I brought him in, of course, and propped him up on the kitchen counter to dry.  It’s his normal drying spot.  Seems to work.  Weston will miss him until Alfie re-joins the fold, but it has to be done.

And speaking of Weston missing him… this is interesting.  Weston has never really taken any particular interest in any one toy.  He loves chasing and catching the ball the most and will occasionally carry around the Mailman or the Hedgehog.  Both of which have stayed in tact, a sure sign he likes them as he hasn’t chewed the stuffing out of them.  But that’s about it… he will carry one around for awhile and then put it down, forgotten for quite a long time until the next time he picks one up and carries it around.  Alfie is different.  We picked up Alfie, and his co-hort Squiggy, when we stopped at Praireland Feeds (where we buy the pup’s food) on my birthday weekend as we headed out of town.  I noticed this little bin of stuffed things and thought the pups needed a little treat for the trip so I picked up a red and green one.  The naming of them happened after we got home from the weekend.  Weston took a particular liking to red, later named Alfie.  He started carrying him around everywhere.  He brought him to bed with him, something he’s never done with anything other than a bully stick before (which we don’t let him have in bed by the way), carried him outside when he went out to do his business, brought him downstairs to the media room when we went down to watch TV at night, and had him with him when he took his naps.  He has never done this and it’s kind of cute.  He and Alfie have become fast fast friends.  Squiggy gets a tad bit of attention, but he’s usually a meager substitute for Alfie when Alfie is out of commission, like he is today.

Weston will be happy when Alfie dries off and is dropped back on the floor.  I’m sure he and his little buddy will be stuck like glue again, until the next time he’s left outside and gets showered on.

Meet Alfie…

It’s a cup of coffee read a book kind of day.  Though I just did the cup of coffee part.  Otherwise I was catching up on email and Facebook “stuff”.  Loving on the dogs… like I am right now, excuse me as I pet Weston for a moment… OK, back.

Tonight we head to the kids house with Black Dog Smoke and Ale House BBQ in hand.  No date night this week.  We are just back from our trip so the kids are going to stay home with us and we’re going to hang out.  We’re looking forward to it.

Had a great visit last evening with Karen’s aunt and uncle.  I’d never met them and it had been a long time since she’d seen them.  It’s a perk of living here.  They travel from their home in Minnesota to their son and daughter in law’s place in Atlanta twice a year.  We’re on the route.  It was so lovely to meet them and spend some time getting to know them a little.  I enjoyed their company.

OK… time to pet Weston again.  He’s being a tad needy, but I don’t mind… who can resist that look of love.  Not I, that’s for sure.  I love this little guy…. and his cutie little sister.

Seven states, 2300 miles, three nights in hotels with four adults and two dogs, road food, great conversation, some beautiful scenery, more gas money into a big ol’ truck and a car than two girls ever want to pay for again, and no real issues… it was a tiring, but good trip east.

The schnoodles are laying next to and on me, sleeping and not sleeping.  They try to sleep, want attention for awhile, demand attention for a little longer, then go back to sleep again.  They both want to be touching me.  It’s cute… lovely…. warm… and sometimes, admittedly, sort of annoying.  But, then I look at them, in their little eyes, and the fleeting millisecond of annoyance turns right back to adoration and love.

Weston just got up and wandered off… maybe he “heard” me talking about him.  Or maybe just maybe he is getting restless before his Uncle Kevin comes home.  He LOVES his Uncle Kevin and always gets restless when it’s about that time… time for Kev to come on in.  Weston wanders, looks out the window, barks and runs out when he thinks it might be Uncle Kevin.  It’s cute.

Combine that with the fact that his Mamma is gone right now getting our house in Illinois, and he’s even more of a mess.  I’m sure he’s looking for her too.  Riley does that as well.  So do I for that matter.  We are all missing her.  Until she comes home it will be like this… the pups stuck to me, a bit restless, looking out the window, barking when they hear a noise that might be, is it, maybe….  Wanting pets, wanting love, wanting to make sure that if they are sleeping they are touching me somehow.  Riley is asleep next to me right now and has all four of her little paws up against my leg.  Adorable.

I am surrounded… by boxes, by stuff to pack, and by dogs…. beautiful little lovable dogs.

I’m excited for the future… for the change, the adventure, the new life moments created with our grandson and the kids, the pups, and each other. I’m very excited about all of that. I’m excited about living in and decorating a new house, about planting new flowers, about riding our bikes and walking around a new town. I’m excited for the friends we will make and the times we will have.

It’s just that I don’t want to pack… not right now. Not right now I don’t. It’s raining outside and dreary on this not so sunny Oregon summer day. The dogs are asleep on their beds here in the office. My honey is working away… hard and with purpose. In command of her job and what she does so well. I’m listening to her type and talk on the phone and be in charge. It’s impressive. Weston snores occasionally and the little girlie changes positions every now and then. They look up at us hopefully every so often thinking maybe if I look at you and then at my ball and then at you again I will get you to play with me. Will you? I say to them… later babies. I promise. And we will.

It’s a Tuesday…

It made me think about them… our little lovelies.  They are so different, in almost every way save one, they sort of look alike.  And even that likeness has diminished as Riley aged and became more silver than dark gray.  They are beauties.  But then… we love them. And love might not even be a strong enough word for it…. but it’s all I’ve got.

Weston…  He is the oldest, so he gets first billing.  He’s our poet.  Our feeling gent.  He is ruled by emotion, no matter what kind, and acts on it purposefully and sometimes impulsively… or compulsively.  He loves people and wants attention and love constantly.  Always looking at you with those deep feeling eyes full of soul and pawing or nosing for a quick pet.  He’s a bit of a two personality guy… taken away from his mother at too young an age (not our choice but the breeder’s, who was wanting to get out of the puppy business and did it too soon) he suffers from not enough discipline when he was young.  We tried, but we weren’t his mamma and though he is ultra smart (sometimes the bane of our existence) he is equally as stubborn.  He will look at you, know he’s being told no, and still do whatever it is he’s doing.  Which mostly consists of being a thief of the highest caliber.  We’ve tried every form of discipline we’ve researched and though he responds best to being ignored for a time (he loves us you see and doesn’t like to be left out), he still won’t give in.  Stubborn.  A stubborn, very very smart thief.  He’s magic at it.  He can get things off countertops… standing on his little hind legs, using his paw to reach up over where he can’t really see that well, pull something over to the edge, then grab it with his teeth.  He opens closets doors, drawers, tips over trash cans, and jumps up in any chair that’s left out.  It’s hilarious… and sometimes aggravating.  We don’t really care.  In the moment you get mad at him, but then you think about all the cunning and planning and skill and you have to laugh.  His best, yet worst, thieving experience was when he opened a pocked in a backpack that was fully zipped closed, got out a bag of chocolate, and ate it all.  This is always what we worry about the most… that he will thieve something bad for him.  He tends to eat what he steals so you can’t get it from him.  He’s swallowed ear plugs, numerous kleenex, napkins, food of all kinds, q-tips… the list goes on.  The chocolate was the worst.  We called the vet and had to pour (to his great displeasure) some hydrogen peroxide down him to get him to throw it all up.  We did… and he did… all over the bathroom floor.  Yuck… but we were happy because he was safe.  He’s incorrigible.  And his feelings run deep.  He looks at you, as he’s flipping over onto his back and opening up his legs to get a good pet, with eyes that speak volumes.  Not all dogs are like this… but he is.  He’s the most feeling dog I’ve ever seen.  It’s amazing, the soul that pours from his eyes to yours.  Very expressive.  Very sweet.  Very deep and full of love.  He’s our boy.  Our little mister.  Our Woodsy (as Karen calls him).

Riley… our little girl.  She is a spitfire.  Confident in every way save one.  She’s afraid of the oven.  It’s true.  The minute the oven goes on, she makes haste to the family room and the back of the sectional that’s furthest from the door up to the kitchen.  She hates the oven.  We know it’s because it used to (before we unplugged this particular one) set off the smoke alarm.  We have another nearby that isn’t as sensitive and has stayed plugged in…. have to be safe and all.  When the oven door used to be opened, no matter what we were cooking in there, it set off this particular smoke detector… and the girlie hated it.  That isn’t a strong enough word.  Her ears are very sensitive…. we think it’s because her vision isn’t good.  So even now, with the detector not going off every time, when the oven gets turned on she makes for the other room.  She’s smart too… knows what that oven going on could mean.  And she doesn’t like it.  It’s cute and sad at the same time as she lays out there, a tiny ball, quivering.  It’s the only time she seems afraid.  Otherwise she’s a little ball of confidence, all ten pounds of her.  She knows who she is and owns her space.  Her little strut, and I will call it a strut, is so cute.  Head held high, barking occasionally at anyone or anything she feels like, jumping up to put her front paws over her brother’s back to show she’s in charge.  Confident.  She’s sometimes loud, barking crazy-like whenever we get home, or someone comes over, or she thinks she hears someone outside.  But it’s her… loud, confident, and so very cute.  She’s chalk full of personality… playing like a cat likes to play, spinning around, hardly able to contain all the energy inside her little body.  Yes, she sometimes tries to jump up (and she’s a fantastic jumper… so high for the size of her little self) up onto the couch or a chair and misses… her eyes again, not working as well as they should for depth… but she doesn’t let it stop her.  Bouncing off the furniture only to immediately jump up again.  She has moxy.  She’s full of it.  If only the rest of us could have half the confidence she possesses in her little self… fantastic.

And that’s them… our little cuties.  So many nicknames… the boy, the girlie, riles, ri-ri, girlie cutie, wooser, woodsie, westenheimer, riley-roosey… it goes on and on.  Whatever we happen to call them they are a big part of the joy in our lives.  We love our little schnoodles.  We also spoil the crap out of them… they eat great for them food, which we mix up, they have special beds all over the place, we buy them bones and bullies and toys, we take them for walks when it’s sunny (they hate the rain), we built up a really nice dog run/area at the back of our house including their own little door for going in and out with a gate we lock when we leave so that no one can accidentally let them out, we play ball (for Weston) and tug (for Riley) in the house when we can’t take them out for walks, and we love on them… all the time.  It’s all so worth it because they are precious… they love us and bring us immense delight.

How could you not love these faces?

Dinner was so good. Got to see family I haven’t seen in a long long time. Nice! Nothing like being in a room with a bunch of people I love and who love me. It’s what life is about.

Had my appointment with Dr. Bigler yesterday. I start maintenance this coming Wednesday. My numbers are holding steady. Not all quite in the normal range yet, but good enough. I do have to have another bone marrow biopsy… It’s looking like maybe November 3 for that. Then it’s just two years of the maintenance cycle and I will be done with the meds. Maintenance involves a weekly shot, a daily pill (or maybe two… We don’t know yet how much as they have to do a formula for it) and 15 days of ATRA every three months). I should be able to get into a pretty normal routine and back to a pretty normal life. Next Wednesday….. Here we go…..

Now, home to the pups with bullies. They will be so happy.