So tonight, Alex mixed up a nice huge batch of Satin Balls to boost the diets of Hope, who is pregnant*, and J.T., the puppy we're conditioning to be shown early next year. Both are a touch on the thin side, and both are somewhat picky eaters. (Being that they're mother and son, those similarities are not surprising.) These things, these "Satin Balls," ridiculous name aside, are a miracle. No dog can resist them, and they pack weight on fast enough that you must feed them carefully. Alex has to mix them, because when you start with 10 lbs. of raw meat and then add tons of other stuff, he's the only one whose hands are strong enough to blend it thoroughly, and it's about 7 times more than could be accomodated by our stand mixer. So my he-man dons his Playtex Gloves of Super-Power, and does the mixing and forming,...and Bella and I are relegated to being bag-holders. We're the magician's assistants of this operation.(Note on above picture--It is NOT this warm here. Bella refused to leave the house today because, among other things like "I don't feel good," it was "too cold." Then she climbed up into her closet and took down the summeriest dress she could find, put it on, and spent the rest of the day proclaiming it NOT to be cold, or, in fact, winter. Denial runs strong in this family.)
And the Satin Balls have been received exceedingly warmly by the mommy-to-be. Exceedingly.
Yes, I washed my hands.
*Hope was scheduled for an ultrasound today to determine whether or not she was pregnant. Then literally overnight, she went from being shaped like her waspy-waisted little self to looking more like a round little roasting hen, her tummy definitely "dropped." So we're going to save the U/S money and assume that we're on schedule for Christmas puppies! Which would be extra-cool, since Hope herself was born on Christmas Day.
In other Impulse Farm Dog News, Alex took Delta in to be groomed this morning, the groomer working at a vet's office near our office (This because our wonderful groomer of the past 10 years, our secret weapon, has off and left us for the wilds of PA. Good luck, Michelle; we'll miss you!) This, in itself, is pretty unremarkable, seeing that we have seven poodles who are regularly groomed--One of us was to take the dog, the other to take the child. He chose the dog, and seeing as the dog didn't require awakeneing, bathing, and dressing first, a wise move it was. (And Bella and I never actually made it in today, but that is quite another story, alluded to above, which will not be repeated tomorrow I am in charge of this relationship as the parent, right? RIGHT?.)
Understand, all ye people, that Delta , the standard poodle, the giant among the Impulse minis, is THE dog here who would lay down her life for Alex. She was my puppy, and didn't even meet Alex until she was 10 months old, but she took one look at him, looked back over her shoulder at me, and quite plainly (in dog-ese) said, "Hey, it's been fun, and thanks for all the grub, but this--THIS IS MY DESTINY." She has been Alex's dog ever since, with a love and devotion that ranges from touching to nauseating (kinda like Jen is about Andrew, heh-heh).She's a great girl, Delta, and I think it's largely her feelings for Alex that allow his daughter to treat her in such ways as this. Come ON! You can also see how badly she needed a haircut in this shot. Anway, Alex was a few minutes late getting home tonight, which I assumed was due to his having to stop and pick up the dog. I was busy when he got here, and he stayed in the living room. When I finally went out to join him, I asked, "Where's Delta?" to which he answered blankly, "How would I know?"
I just locked eyes with him, staring, as horrified realization dawned on him and spread over his face. "OH, MY GOSH, I FORGOT TO GET HER!" He'd made a few other stops after work, and it had just slipped his mind at the last minute, especially since it was the first time we'd ever had a dog being groomed in town. Those are the excuses, folks, and they're good ones. And of course it was well past the time that the vet's office had closed by then. Poor Delta. Abandoned by the one person in the world she loves the most. Isn't that always the way? And the indignity of having to spend a night in a DOG KENNEL with a bunch of DOGS...well, that insult won't be forgotten easily, if I know her. Our plan is to pretend that she was very sick and in the hospital for observation, and that through her trial she has won a fabulous prize, and then feed her Satin Balls until she forgives us.
I'm assuming this will never, ever happen with our child. (Threatening tone in the typing, here.)
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