The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

August was Thatcher's birth month. He's 2 years old... so according to this chart I found, I guess in dog years that makes him... 24years old. One year younger than me... and still acts like a small child. What is it they say about boys maturing slower than girls?! That chart must be wrong. Anyway, back to Thatcher's birthday. We got him a big rawhide bone for his birthday... you know, the ones that are knotted at the ends. Anyway, I went from the 2nd floor of our house down to the first floor to get something. Thatcher was standing at the 2nd floor as I was making the descent and all of the sudden I hear some clunking noises and turn around and his bone was coming down the stairs after me. I jumped out the way just as the bone hit the wall with a loud THUD! It MUST have been an accident... Thatcher would NEVER throw his bone down the stairs at me and try to make me fall... I love him too much for him to do that! So I go back upstairs after getting what I needed from the 1st floor. A while later I had to put the item back downstairs. I start my descent down the stairs and all of the sudden I heard the same old clunking noise and turn around just in time to see Thatcher standing there with a crazy look in his eye... almost like he was waiting for the bone to hit me and knock me the rest of the way down the stairs! What an evil evil little man he is.... and by man I mean dog! He totally had it out for me and he got caught... not once, but twice! He's malicious I tell you!

Ok, as promised in the last post, we shall discuss all of the names of Thatcher.

1. Thatcher Dean - that's his first and middle name, reserved for when he's in trouble
2. Thatchy - an affectionate name
3. Thatchio - random name, usually chanted like Rufio from the movie Hook (Thatchio, Thatchio, Thatch-i-oooooo)
4. Snoutly McGee - used when he's beginning his snouting
5. Snout Monster - used when he's been snouting a little too long
6. Thatcharola - random name, usually sung to the Rice-a-Roni commercial tune (Thatch-a-rola, the San Francisco treat)
7. Cutie Face - always said in a super high pitched voice using baby talk
8. Thatcharoo - random name
9. Thatch - most common nickname other than Thatchy, used when I'm too lazy to say his full name
10. Mama's Baby - used when I baby talk him (also the name of a future racing horse I will [never] own... I can hear the announcer now, "Aaaaaaand Death's Door Keeper is in the lead with at least 5 strides between him and... OHHH MYYYYY GOSH!! Mama's Baby has appeared from thin air and overtaken 10 other competitors to take the lead and WIN WIN WIN!!! Dave, have you ever seen anything like this!? What an upset Mama's Baby has caused here today!"

Ok, enough with the names... the list could go on FOR-EV-ER (Sandlot, anyone!?)! Let's talk about Thatchy and his bad streak (which happens to be 10 miles wide). Day before yesterday I washed some work trousers, but in order to do so I had to empty all of the three thousand pockets that the Army put on them. So I empty EVERY. LAST. ONE. and place all my pocket goodies in a pile by my nightstand. I put the clothes in the wash and take some time to work on craft projects (that are super top secret). For those of you who don't know... crafting can work up quite a sweat! So I went downstairs to get a glass of water. I'm walking down the stairs, caught in my dream world as I'm imagining what other kind of creative things I can make, then all of the sudden... I see it!! Well, well, well. What do we have here?! The Snout has struck again!
I started out by finding something that was white cotton at the base of the stairs... walk a little further, yellow and white shreds of something... a little further a braided string (I'm sure all the ladies can see right where this is going)... a little further i find a blue plastic applicator and... dun dun dun!!!! the rest of what was once an unused tampon.
Then I see the Snouty culprit standing there with a new unused tampon that's still in the wrapper and it's dangling from his mouth. I glance at the clock on the oven and it just so happened to read... HIGH NOON!! (insert wild west showdown music here) It was as if we'd been plucked from the final showdown scene in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.
Of course, I'm "The Good" - Blondie (how appropriate), Thatcher is "The Ugly" - Tuco (some would say this is equally appropriate), and... well I don't know who "The Bad" is because nobody ever dies in our standoffs! However, unlike the movie ending where Tuco and Blondie each get equal parts of gold... I always win. That's the way it goes when you're the mama! DUH! We're always have some standoff or another. Yesterday it was over some little flowers I was using for a project in what we affectionately call "The Crap Room" where I do all of my craft projects. I usually never let The Snout in the crap room for that very reason. But yesterday he was being exceptionally sweet so I let him lay at my feet as I was ironing a piece of fabric to be sewn. Here I was, ironing away and singing to my Pandora playlist when I looked down... it must have been about 6 or 7 songs after Snouts original entry and lounging and I noticed that he was no longer lying under the ironing board. Uh Oh! I leave the room, calling for him, "Ohhhh Thaaaaaatcher. Wheeeeerrrre aaaaaarrrre yooooou?!" kinda in a creepy kinda old lady voice! No traces of him upstairs so I head down to the 2nd level where I found my little craft flowers strewn all in a lovely little trail... It was like a romantic movie with the rose petals leading up to the love of your life lying in bed waiting with some chocolate covered strawberries... but no. All that was at the end of my flower trail was a farting dog who had the "I'm in trouble" look written ALL over his face. I couldn't help but laugh, which totally confused him because then I spanked his bottom a few times and told him "NO NO!" No wonder he's so strange and confused.

*The "I'm in trouble" look he often wears*



Until next time. Enjoy!

Pup-tenting

So one of my favorite times is when I get off work and get to come home to an excited little boy and then snuggle him. Thatcher is a pretty good snuggler! It's right up there with chocolate candy... yeah, it's THAT good. Thatchy usually likes me to be big spoon, but on some rare occasions he let's me be little spoon and he drapes his arm aver my neck while I'm sleeping. I love it! Well... love is a strong word. Occasionally when it's my turn to be little spoon it is short lived because I get tired of my back getting kicked... it's like he's trying without success to kickstart a motorcycle... he's relentless. But something extra special happened last week! We had our heads under the covers like usual since I work night shift and the blackout curtains are more like dimmers on the windows.... and I had beans in my burrito at work... and who knows what Thatcher ate (I'm sure you can see where this story is going)... let me just say it... we ended up pup-tenting each other! LOL. We giggled for at least 5 minutes... ok well, I giggled, Thatcher just laid there pretending that he didn't know he tooted (yeah right, Thatch, nobody falls for that one anymore).

Today, Thatch was snouting around like he was searching for something. I asked him, "Are you looking for THIIIIS!?" as I was making kissy faces at him... he snorted, turned his nose up at me and walked away! Unappreciative brat!! Most dogs LOVE to give kisses... as many as they can lay on ya... but not Thatcher. He's very selective about who he kisses. I guess I don't hafta worry about him being a prostitot (for all of you who don't know... that's a baby prostitute)!

A few days ago Thatcher wanted to play "exterminator" so we did. There was a cricket that was between the couch and the table. Thatch wanted desperately to get it but he couldn't fit between the couch and the table... so me being the admiring mama that I am... I moved the couch out from the wall so he could play his game. He chased the poor cricket for a while until he "accidentally" popped one of its back legs off and it couldn't escape anymore. I had to put it outside so it could have a peaceful death. That's what Thatcher does... he doesn't like to eat them... just plays catch with them and chases them until he gets tired and then he tramples them with his feet. Really, he's a precious angel.

When I'm home from work Thatch and I do pretty much everything together. After checking the mail, which is like a block away, we came back to work on this blog and here's how Thatch contributed...

Occasionally he would have a muscle spasm and kick me or shake the laptop and make me have a spelling error. Thanks for the help Thatchy. One day we will discuss all of Thatcher's nicknames... that's a blog all in itself.

I wish I could just spend all my days with Thatcher... sometimes. Sometimes I need a break from him because he's just as bad as he is cute! One of the girls at work gives me a hard time because I'm always telling her how rotten Thatch is and she tells me "surely you're over exaggerating!" Oh honey, I wish I were. I shouldn't have spoiled him as much as I did because now he thinks that's the way it should be and when I tell him "NO" he throws a tantrum. Good God, what have I done! I guess this is a practice round for future children. No means no! How can you resist this cute face though!?



Thatch wanted to type something but he forgot to get his nails trimmed when he was getting a manicure... so he can't type. So, until next time.

"Cherries are for mamas..."

Ok lovely people. So here is a much needed update. I put Thatcher in charge of the blog and we see how well THAT worked out!

Thatcher somehow got this idea in his head that if he fake sneezes on your food that you won't want to eat it and you'll give it to him. Well, apparently when you become a parent (to a fur kid or a skin kid) it doesn't matter and all cleanliness issues go out the window. I eat stuff he fake sneezes on all the time. Don't judge me!

So there I was... eating some cherries that I had just washed and Thatcher was bugging me nonstop for one. He tried his sneezing trick. HA! PLEASE! You think that a snotty sneeze can separate me from some summer cherries?! I don't think so friend. He doesn't even know what cherries are... BUT I'm less likely to give him anything since yesterday he begged and begged and begged for a piece of my twizzler (which I'm sure he thought was a pupparoni) so I tore a piece off and gave it to him. He sniffed it and then let it soak in his mouth until it was gooey and then left it there only to beg for more even though he wouldn't eat it! I picked up the gooey red mess and tossed it in the trash (after dropping it twice). Thanks Thatchey.

Sooooooo, needless to say, when he started asking for cherries I had to come up with some clever excuse why he couldn't have any. I could have said anything... ANYTHING!! How about this... "No Thatcher. Cherries have pits in them and you won't spit it out and then you'll choke and die because I'm a bad mommy and don't know mouth to snout CPR." Or how about this one... " No Thatcher. Cherries are healthy for you and we all know you don't like anything healthy!" I mean, for Pete's sake... the kid eats toilet paper and cotton balls when he gets a chance to pillage the trash. BUT NOOOOOO I went with yelling this instead... "YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY CHERRIES BECAUSE THEY'RE FOR MAMAS ONLY AND YOU WON'T EVER BE A MAMA BECAUSE YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A VAGINA!!!" He walked away to play with one of his toys... SWEET VICTORY IS MINE AT LAST!!! This excuse seemed to satisfy him so I think I'll try it with other things when the occasion presents itself... oh and it WILL present itself!

Well, my editor was looking over my shoulder snorting approval in my ear, but now he's laying with his snout draped across the keyboard so I guess that means he's ready for bed and this is a wrap!

*This is an old photo... BUT It's still past some one's bed time!*



Until next time y'all!

Divo

First off... we'll apologize for the long pause between posts. It's all Thatcher's fault and that's all there is to say about that (that's my failsafe excuse).

Thatcher is now in his teenage years and has the attitude to prove it. He's become quite the little diva (since he's a boy would it be divo? Whatever.)

A couple of weeks ago I went to the commissary and bought a few items and I thought, "Oh... I better get Thatch some treats, he's almost out." Now, usually he eats puparoni treats, but this time I decided to get puparoni and ALSO get the doggy bacon strips. Let's just say that didn't go over too well. I fed him one bacon strip and he ate it because he thought it came from the puparoni bag... then i tried to feed him another one and the little brat turned his nose up at it, snorted, and walked off! Umm, excuse me!!! When you start paying the grocery bills THEN you can be picky, Thatcher.

Isn't is strange how over time you morph into your parents... it's almost a smooth transition and before you know it the transition is near completion and you're deciding it's appropriate to say things like, "Oh, you wanna cry?! I'll give you something to cry about!" ... yeah, I've said that to Thatcher on more than one occasion... so what!? Is this a foreshadowing of my "real" parenting abilities when I have children without fur?! Dear Jesus... help me!


And speaking of teenage years... does anybody remember when you were a teenager and it became totally unacceptable for your parents to pick out your school clothes anymore. Yeah, well... I think we've reached that point. This photo is the last one taken of Thatch in his cute little sweater and I can only think of 2 reasons... 1)He purposefully ate too much so he outgrew it, and 2)He thinks it looks like a baby gap sweater (which, to be fair, it kinda does). To be totally fair, I didn't even pick this sweater out, Thatcher's mimi did. So I guess it's not just clothes our parents picked out, but clothes our grandparents picked out as well. Sorry for being such a terror mom!




Thatcher has been hurt recently and I'm not quite sure how it happened... but everytime he tries to jump on the bed (which he LOVES to do) he yelps in pain (mama's poor angel). Maybe he pulled a chest muscle going up and down the stairs (he is pretty buff now... time to lay off the 'roids honey). :/ Oh... P.S. I just found out last night that he's been faking it the last few days. Last night he thought I was asleep in the bed and he wanted to play so he just jumped up on the bed (yelp free) and started romping around and throwing my covers off. HAHA... caught red handed once again. He's not as sly as he likes to think he is.


Thatch fancies himself as a gardener and just adores helping me re-pot the tree in the informal dining room. He also trims all the grass with his mouth and "waters" EVERY tree and or pole in the neighborhood. He does have his favorite pole though on the opposite side of the neighborhood and when he's behaving badly on the leash I'm a mean mama and I forbid him to pee on his favorite pole... I mean "water" it... Anyway, our little old neighbor lady is the most precious thing ever. She bought some dog treats at Wal-Mart for Thatcher because she always sees him out in the yard playing (her words, not mine). Anyway, remember the part about Thatcher being a treat snob?? Well I was kinda horrified at the thought of her giving him a treat and him turning his nose up at it and walking off... wouldn't that be mortifying as a parent... to witness your child being a huge brat to someone who is attempting an act of random kindness!? Well, to my relief, Thatch thought it was a payment for something so I guess the only thing he could think of getting paid for from our neighbor would be for tearing up her grass with his talons! So she gives him one treat and he takes it and darts off... grass flying everywhere... it actually reminded me from a scene from Edward Scissor Hands. Anyway, back to reality, She gives Thatch the 2nd treat (and he hadn't even eaten the first) and he drops them on the ground and sits on them like any good mother hen would do. Then he jumps around some more (to demonstrate his appreciation towards her) and then he finally lays in the grass and eats the treats.... whooo a sigh of relief for him not being a DVIA for once!!!
*Look at the guilty look on his face!*


Thatch got a few new toy and one of them is this Alligator with like 1000 squeaky things in it. He is totally jealous that his new baby gator had perfectly straight teeth so you can see the results of that meet up... And this was just the start of it. Now his gator has absolutely no teeth and he needs a few surgeries on his torso and some reconstructive facial surgery wouldn't hurt either. :(
*It used to have teeth on top AND bottom...*



Thatch can't seem to make any friends in the neighborhood because A)He's the bully, or B)He's being bullied. Our neighbors a few houses down have the cutest little white dog and it always wants to run up to Thatchy and play, but of course, Thatch has to act like a psycho first... but believe it or not, the little white dog will buck up and dart at Thatch and zigzag back and forth and then he runs to his dads arms for safety! Haha it's so funny to watch because then Thatcher thinks it's a game and tries to do it back but he just looks half crazy. BUT he did meet his first baby... up close and personal with Amelia Lehman! He was sooooo intrigued by her and her tiny movements. We separated them with the baby gate but Thatch wouldn't stop resting his big fat head on the gate and just staring at Amelia, trying to figure out exactly what she was! Too cute.




Oh, did I forget to mention that Thatcher carries his blankie EVERY WHERE. His new nickname shall be Linus Van Pelt! He also personalized it by adding a few signature marks... AKA holes and shreds throughout. See Thatcher, this is why we can't have anything nice! Oh, speaking of having nice things... I bought these fairly expensive blackout curtains (since I work night shift) and they're "spot clean only" so don'tcha know i just LOVED finding dried snout juice all over my new black curtains from where SOME ONE was attempting to look out the window!? Thatch knows just how to push my buttons. Guess the snout juice will hafta stay for a while because I don't think his window infatuation is over quite yet.

And while we're talking about ruining nice things... let's talk about Thatcher's knack for picking out my most expensive undies from the dirty clothes basket and making them look like dumpster drawers. Ohhhhhh noooo... God forbid he go for any of the $5/8pair Wal-mart granny panties... he goes straight for the Victoria's Secret panties that are $5/Pair. Little bastard. Oops... that last comment slipped out... but when I realized last night that I was unknowingly wearing a pair that had the slightest "Thatcher hand-crafted" or in this case "snout-crafted" defect I was totally pissed! Count another pair for the trashcan. I guess it went unnoticed because It was a tiny tear where the seam is... and it only grew the more I moved around throughout the night. Rats. Below is a photo of Thatcher getting punished for attempting to help "sort laundry" from the basket.
*Notice him pretending he can't hear me. Monster.*




About a month ago I was working on a few sewing projects and Thatchey decided he wanted to try his hand (paw, whatever) at sewing... Really all he ended up doing was eating all the forgotten thread ends that had been snipped away and had fallen to the floor. Thanks ThatchVacuum.
*If you look closely you can see a thread hanging from his mouth. Guilty as charged!*


Hahahaha I almost forgot about this one morning when Thatcher wanted to wake me up and i guess I wasn't responding to his usual whining and putting his snout in my hand so he decided to get right up next to my face and steal all my air! Imagine my surprise when I woke up feeling like I was drowning and couldn't breath... then I see the culprit wagging his nubbin, happy to see my eyes open. I had to laugh because then he starts doing log jumps over me while i'm still trying to shake off the sleep. Somebody needs to teach this kid some morning time manners!

At least he's cute... or, that's what I keep telling myself anyway.


Until next time. :)

Cry bag

Soooo... we're back after a short hiatus. Thatch had writers block and I had a crazy hectic work schedule. He wanted me to tell everybody that he now likes to play with other dogs and he's very curious of cats and thinks that they want to play with him. Last week he was trying to get one of the cats to play with him and he ended up with a new scar on his ear. Apparently he didn't learn his lesson because he still tries to make the cats chase him and he chases the cats in return. Crazy little man. Thatch says he is still working on getting back in shape... me too Thatch, me too.

I can't post any new photos right now because our computer isn't set up yet. But when we get everything set up I've got some videos to show everybody how big Thatcher is now (and what a whiney boy he is). As for me... I've gone back to day shift but can't decide if I want to stay there or go to nights when I'm finished with this. I suppose they both have their pros and cons, but I think the most important thing is working with people I can stand to be around for 12hours a day for multiple days in a row!

Don't think that Thatch isn't doing anymore crazy shenanigans, because he TOTALLY is. I gave him one of his Christmas presents early because all of his things are still packed. So it was this non-stuffed animal and he adores it. The first few days he babied it and would just toss it around and want to lay it on my lap or if i was laying down he would lay it across my face. Well all that's over and now he had ripped his baby in half and doesn't even try to keep the 2 halves together. I woke up this morning with the head end of it in my bed under the covers and Thatch had the tail end in his crate. What a good parent he is to this new baby.

He is in the habit of throwing a tantrum when he wants out of his crate. He's just like a little kid. He will stamp his feet on the plastic flooring of his crate and drag his foot so it makes a scraping noise and then he will punch the cage wall with his hands so it makes a horrible rattling noise. This is usually early in the morning or late at night. Occasionally I'll let him sleep in bed with me... but sometimes he's such a bed hog and he sleeps in the middle of the bed and I can't pull the sheets out from under him! What a fatty. I haven't weighed him in a long time but i think he's about to hit a growing period because he's starting to look like skelataur again and he has crazy long legs but his torso is still the same length! I think he's gonna end up being a very big boy. He weighs 60 pounds already!

Oh... and let me tell yall about this fool at dinner time! Hahahahaha. He's such a diva. I mix his dry food with canned food and try to stir it all together so that there are no dry pieces. But if I don't do a good enough job he lets me know because he will use his nose to scoop EVERYTHING out of his bowl that he doesn't feel like eating. And he's such a SLOB! He will carry food in his mouth and try to chew and walk at the same time and so I can always tell where he's been because there is a trail of slobbery dog food all through the house. What a cleanly little guy he is. :/

Ok that has to be all for now because we have to go to the post office and send a few packages out!

Harry Potter

So, Thatcher thinks he's Harry Potter. He found a long smooth stick outside and instead of picking it up in the middle (like any other dog would) he picked it up at the end so it hung out of his mouth like a dangling cigarette. Instead, since he doesn't smoke, it looked like he was trying to be Harry Potter because this woman was walking by and he pointed his wand at her and began swirling it around like he was trying to cast a spell or make something appear.

Well, earlier this week was the death AND resurrection of "Mr. Duckworth"... Like I said, Thatch's stuffed babies never make it through their first month of life! He's like one of those inexperienced/ irresponsible teen moms who's baby comes to some horrible end. Well, I guess he's not quite that bad... maybe i'm over-exaggerating slightly. :/

Thatch has been sick this week and his right eye looks absolutely horrible. :( He's been sneezing and coughing and scratching his eyes. My poor little guy. We went running and Thatch is TOTALLY out of shape! Poor guy had to stop every few hundred feet for a breather, which he cleverly disguised as a potty break! Haha.


*My little cutie*

Shenanigans and "Cutie Pies"... whatever that means.

So I think Thatch has settled on a sibling rather than a wife! He said he's just not ready for that type of commitment and he's not quite sure he wants kids either... guess I was just a mommy projecting my wants for him. :/

Wednesday Thatch attempted to pee on a pole while lifting his back leg... he accomplished it... but started to lose balance and began to pee on his front leg too. This startled him like he couldn't figure out why this whole thing wasn't working out and so he ended up looking crazy... like always. He was peeing and walking and looking confused and attempting to lift his back leg while walking. Its better than what he was doing though... he would lift the hind leg, but instead of bending it he would just keep it straight and stiff with the toes pointed like a tiny dancer... and he would try to lean onto the other three legs enough that the 4th leg was even off the ground. Nice.

Thatcher went to PetSmart and picked out all his own toys. One of the things he got was a bird of some sort that is about the size of a football. This is the baddest little bird on the planet. Every time my sweet angel tries to bring his bird on the bed and snuggle with it the silly bird ALWAYS tries to jump off the bed (it's usually successful). Poor Thatcher has to keep jumping off and on the bed to bring that bad little baby back! I told him he needs to spank it, but he's too kind for that (ANDDDD I think he's secretly the one "making" the bird jump off the bed by shoving it with his nose or flinging it in the air with his mouth)! Thatcher is just as sweet as can be to that bird. He even cuddles with it like he loves it! It's funny because sometimes I catch myself calling him the strangest things... like "cutie bird" or "angel pie".... who does that except someone who's TOTALLY in love!? It's true, I admit it... I'm totally in love with Thatchey boo! How could you not be... look at that face!


*Cutie bird with his bird... yeah, his collar says "Bad to the Bone" jealous?!*

He also has a giant rawhide stick that WAS about as long as my leg from knee to heel... I said WAS because he had it destroyed in about 45minutes after we opened it.... and that was supposed to be for "strong chewers". Yeah, well, I'm gonna need something for megastrong supermanesque chewers... something more concrete (ehhh EHHH!? Get iiiit!? HAHAHA).

Thatcher has also gotten into the habit of being really sweet right before bed so that he can sleep with me and cuddle in my bed. He somehow manages to then sprawl out across the whole king size mattress (the wrong way) and fall asleep while I'm brushing my teeth... so then I have to quietly craaaaaawl onto my little 1" sliver of bed space, trying not to wake him because if I do he thinks it's play time and jumps up to attack me and dig the covers right off of me.


*King of the king*

Thatcher has also learned to high-five and does it for treats, when he wants your attention, or when he thinks it will make him look cool around the other kids. He's been trying to learn to roll over, but what he ends up doing is lying down on his stomach and when I say "roll over" he slooooowly switches over to lying down on his side and he makes sure he's extra dramatic and slow when he lays his giant head down very last.... and then he looks at you like "LOOK! I did it!" That's what we're calling rolling over.

Oh and did I show y'all how big Thatch is and how he still INSISTS that he's a lap dog?!


*Mama's baby :]*