Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Five Other Things

So some other things happened over the weekend or since I quit detailing my life minute-by-minute for you folks.  Here is a list:

1.  The dogs went to Groomingdale's and got baths and Mac got a haircut.

2.  Little Mac bit David's three-year-old niece and made her bleed.

3.  I drank some of the wine cube.

4.  I learned a lesson about oversharing in a nail salon.

5.  I called 911.  On three cows.

Let's go down the list, shall we?

1.  So I take the dogs to Groomingdale's.  Coop gets a bath and shedless treatment (waste of money but each time I remain hopeful that instead of lessening the amount of fur he loses for, oh, two hours or so, it will somehow cure him of fur-loss and I will never have to vacuum my couch again).  Mac gets a trim because her fur was so long she was like a cross between a lion and a wildabeast.

(Which reminds me of this time I went to camp in seventh grade and only one girl in our cabin did not yet shave her legs and we called her "Wildabeast" behind her back because seventh grade girls are total bitches like that, but it totally didn't cramp her game because one night she came back to the cabin with all kinds of hickeys and had to have a long talk with the counselor while the rest of us took our Bic razors and went to shower.)

Anyway, I got home to a message on our answering machine that went something like this:  "Little Mac is kind of hesitant about going into our dryer, so we are going to just let her air dry and it might take a little longer before she's ready to go home."

Which I knew automatically was an exceedingly polite way of saying "Your dog is a fucking Tazmanian devil who tried to rip us to shreds when we attempted to guide her into the doggie-dryer and so we are going to lock her into a cage by herself until you pick her ass up.  And also whatever tip you were planning to leave is not going to be big enough."

They do a great job, because she looked adorable when I picked her up.  You would never know just how vicious she can be.

Srsly. Do not fuck with me.
2. Which brings me to Little Mac biting David's niece.  Taylyn is a dog lover and although Cooper welcomes attention wherever he can get it, Taylyn was more interested in the cute little package that is Little Mac.

Don't you just want to love her and squeeze her?
Her is only sweet when her is sleeping.
 Unfortunately, Little Mac is like a peanutbutter cup with a razor blade inside.  You want to keep her away from the kids because they find her irresistible.  I would catch Taylyn trying to swipe her hand down Little Mac's back, ever-so-gently, just petting her for a second to see if she could touch her before Mac would start growling.  That's a risky game to play.

It's true that Mac usually gives a growling warning before she springs on you, but this was first thing in the morning, and Sister is not at her best first thing in the morning.  Moreover, we were all in the sunroom, so it was kind of crowded, and we had three different conversations going, and one of them involved shouting to David's grandpa since he doesn't hear so well, and Little Mac was overstimulated and overcrowded and she can't see well because of her cataracts and still there's no excuse for her.  What happened was simply that Taylyn tried to pet her, and Little Mac bit her on the hand, hard enough to break the skin.

I was mortified, but Taylyn's parents were (thankfully) very chill about it.  Taylyn barely even cried.  David gave Little Mac the "If you were a German Shepherd, you'd be dead by now," talk and tossed her in the other room (as a means of discipline this is admittedly ineffective, but we are at a loss.  Confrontations with Little Mac only have one winner, and it is always Little Mac.).  It was SO embarrassing.  Little Mac, of course, was unfazed.  She has no shame.

3.  The wine cube.  It's pretty good!  I mean, maybe not the awesomest wine I've ever had, but just as good as the cheap stuff I usually buy.  Wine cube is a winner!

4.  So I was back in the nail salon (I know, mistake number one) and this time when the dude (it was a dude this time) asked if I had kids, I said no.  But only because I wanted to stop the conversation before it started, having just had a revelation based on this experience:

When I walked into the salon and was choosing my color (OPI Shanghai Shimmer), it was very crowded.  Lots of people there, but everyone in the nail salon heard the following conversation:

Lady at Nail Salon (to guy working at nail salon):  What's your name?

Nail Salon Guy:  Tom.

Sharon:  Oh, I used to be married to a Tom.   My name is Sharon.

Tom:  Shar-on.  What happened to your husband?

\Me (to myself):  OMG inappropriate question, Tom.  What are you thinking?  He's either dead or they're divorced.  Either way, the story is probably not a really happy one.

Sharon:  We got divorced.  He had a thing for teenagers.  He was having an affair with the babysitter.

Tom:  Oh!  (Awkward silence ensues).

Me (to myself):  OMG.  Wow.  Sharon is just going to put her shit out there in the nail salon.  I do not need to put my shit out there in the nail salon.  I just put it out there on the internet instead.

Also the other lady working in the salon asked the woman next to me in the pedicure chair if she had kids, and that lady said, "No.  Never had time."  And I thought, There's probably way more to her story than that, but she doesn't feel the need to put her shit out there in a nail salon either.  She should start a blog.

The lesson here is that sometimes you can talk about your baby who died, and sometimes you can just read your People magazine and make as little conversation as possible.  And you don't need to feel weird about it either way.

5.  The cows.  When we were driving home from the lake, I cried for a while, and then I stared out the window, and then I was staring at three cows walking down the side of the highway.  They were following pedestrian rules of walking on the side of the road, against traffic.  A tight little threesome, trottling along the shoulder of the highway, just on the outside of the yellow line.

I started looking around frantically for some supervision for these cows.  A cowboy?  A ranch hand?  An Amish kid?  Somebody had to be in charge of these cows.

There was no one.

I was worried about the cows being hit by a truck and hurt or killed.  What if one of them panicked and darted into an oncoming vehicle?  David was more concerned about what a cow would do to a car than what a car would do to a cow.

We decided I should call the highway patrol.  I dialed 911 and had the following conversation: 

Operator:  911, what's your emergency?

Me:  Well, it's not an emergency exactly.  I need to report three cows on highway 44.

Operator:  Three cows?

Me:  Yes.  They are walking on the side of the highway, on the shoulder.  By themselves.  We passed them at mile marker 139.

Operator:  Eastbound or westbound?

Me:  Um, well they're westbound, but they're on the eastbound side of the road.  In the middle by the median.

Operator:  OK, I'll let the highway patrol know.

Me:  OK, thank you.

I felt all important since my call was taken seriously, and I imagined the operator quickly putting herself through to highway patrol:  "I have a report on three renegade cows, westbound on eastbound 44.  Pick them up, stat."  Or whatever word police use for "stat."

Poor cows.  I hope they were OK.

So those are the five most interesting things to happen to me of late.  Just filling my various roles of irresponsible and overindulgent dog owner, enthusiastic boxed-wine drinker, bereaved parent who avoids oversharing, and concerned citizen for cow and highway safety. 

So what's up with you?  Have you recently (or ever) dialed 911?  Saved a cow?  Been bitten by a small dog?  Been appalled at (or guilty of) oversharing?  Do tell.


  1. I call 911 all the time. I've called in about 3 suspected drunk drivers. I worked for a beer company as a promotional rep in university which often meant I was driving home after the bars closed (whilst sober). I saw people (drunk) swerving all over the road.

    I have called in to report deer in downtown Toronto (off the main highway here). Poor things had no where to go and I'm always scared they're going to die/kill someone.

    boo hiss.

    Little Mac is too cute. Devil in disguise sorta cute. :)

    I think I have to work on my over-sharing. :|

  2. Little dogs are such a PITA! We have one too. But they're so adorable, what can you do?

    Good for you for calling 911. Funny conversation though!

  3. When my husband lived in Maine he was coming down a snowy hill when a cow "ran out" infront of him...still to this day I don't know that cows "run", but whatever. He was like 16 and terrified of getting in trouble. Turns out the farmer was resposible because they have to keep them on their own property. Cows on the road...it happens! Glad you were able to "save" the ones you saw :)

  4. Ho-ly fuck this was a funny post. Thank you for making me almost piss my britches at 11pm! Word!

    Why is it that I can relate to your Little Mac stories so well?
    Four words.
    A pomeranian named Hailey.
    Nuff said.
    And PS she now lives with the hubs' bro in LA.. with 5 other poms! Talk about the good life!!! LOL!

  5. I am pretty sure I always overshare. Have a blog. Will share overly personal anecdotes.

    My exhusband (not named Tom) used to have the story he would tell about riding his motorcycle around the corner in the Sonoran desert and a herd of cow were blocking the road. But by the grace of God, or ninja like reflexes, he somehow managed to fly through the moving herd without hitting one. Amazing.

  6. 911 was just called by a lady in the chinese restaurant that my husband unexpectedly passed out in due to his espohageal spasm? WFT?
    Also, my dad hit a cow on the highway one time. David was on to something. He used to drive one of those huge oversized, raised roof vans and it totaled it. No one ever claimed the cow. Imagine that.
    I was bit in the face the day before school started in the 7th grade by a tea cup chihuahua. I love dogs, but i HATE chihuahuas. Her name was Benito and man was she a bitch.
    Oh, and I always overshare. I'm sure you'll realize that on Friday when we get together!

  7. The one time I called 911 many years ago at work because a child was hurt on the playground, the first thing the lady who answered said to me was "can you hold?" That took me by surprise!

  8. I have a question. Why is it that the first question nail lady asks is "Do you have any kids?" Why is that? Happens to me everytime I visit a nail salon.

    I called 911 when my Mother in Law's garage was on fire and gave the dispatcher my address. I know, I am so smart.

    Your post made me laugh. I have a psycho dog named Cowgirl, but she only gets satisfaction out of biting all my other dogs. No kids yet (knock on wood).

  9. Thanks for giving me a good laugh this morning.

    I have called 911 and sadly it resulted in giving me a minor consumption of alcohol-didn't really think that one through.

    I always overshare. I love talking about my son. If they are offended by hearing about my dead son, too bad, they asked and sorry they didn't like the response.

  10. I had to call 911 a couple of times when I worked at the group home when we didn't have a hope in hell of keeping a kid safe. Generaly the dispatchers are nice, and the cops are unimpressed. "A kid?" Until one almost kicked out the back window in their car and they threatened to hog tie her. Yeah. A kid.
    I overshare pretty regularly, I blog about my period more times then not. In day to day conversations as well. I'm usually at one extreme or another, I either don't tell you anything of substance, or I tell you way too much.

  11. I dont call 911 as I know the number to our police department for non emergencies, incidentally the last four numbers spell out BEER so I never forget it lol

    Anyways I seem to call a lot. Once there was a exotic bird outside my work, two or three times for stray dogs, and once for a power line being down that I almost drove over.

  12. I had to call 911 last year in Whistler b/c there was a guy standing in the intersection by the Home Hardware pulling down his pants and whipping out his unit. He was totally hammered and was staggering all over the place. Then he got in his truck and sped away, so my sister and I had to follow him while we had the 911 operator on the phone. The operator wasn't the brightest, and it took the police 45 minutes to get there! In that time, the guy had smashed in to a bunch of parked vehicles and almost ran over a bunch of people on the side of the road. By the time he stopped, all 4 of his tires were flat and 2 of his windows were smashed out from hitting the other vehicles. It was pretty crazy...
    Thanks again for the great post Brooke! You are truly hilarious.
    (Haha! My word verification word is "narco"!)

  13. I'm late but I needed to read this today. It made me smile. Cows are way more dangerous to a car, I promise. I've seen it not once, but twice. My nephew gets bit by my dad's mini dachshund every single day. He just can't leave her alone.

  14. Brooke,

    I know you wrote this post forty freaking forevers ago, but I'm just now reading...oh a year and a half later. I lost my son Jacob six months ago and reading where other moms were X number of months after their loss seems to help me. I guess I'm sort of blog stalking you. Anyway, I came across this post in the process and just laughed my damn ass off!! Thank you :)