The Frenchies Wear Boots

Since it has snowed, and the temperature has stayed averaging 0 or below, the frenchies are not too keen on going outside to potty. Picasso is a trooper and he has just reduced his bathroom frequency requirements. Gertie has chosen to just use the restroom in the house in places I cannot supervise completely. Apparently she thinks I will like to find random dog poo in the kitchen or on the landing upstairs. 

She's wrong. 

I know it's cold. It's averaging 0 lately....

I just started to plug my car in while I work all day. By the time I'm off work, my car has sat over 12 hours out in the elements. Now that it's below 0, I need to be concerned that the battery will be too cold for the engine to start. Most of the parking spots at the hospital (and all around Fairbanks) have little towers at the head of parking spots that have outlets for you to plug your car in to. 

Anyway, this is not good weather for french bulldogs. They require pretty moderate temperatures to flourish-- not too hot and not too cold. This is too cold, FYI.

I was prepared to dress the frenchies with coats before we moved to Fairbanks. Each frenchie has 2 coats each, 2 NICE coats each. I bought one set and their wonderful Aunite Rosie purchased their second set (how much does she LOVE them; there is a reason she is their gods mother). I had to purchase booties for the frenchies once I got here. This has been... interesting.

Neither of them like their booties. I bought color coded booties (purple for her, red for him) while up here because it was brought to my attention their feet will be really cold. I didn't think of that for some reason. I thought about their bodies, but not their little paws!

They both loathe their booties. I tried their booties on each dog on different occasions. I tried Gertie first, mostly because she is more easy going and agreeable to weird things. If someone was going to kidnap one of my dogs, it would be Gertie. But she was so embarrassed to wear her booties that she kicked Picasso's ass for simply being present. Nothing is more sad than seeing a dog fight while one is wearing small purple booties.

A few days later, I tried Picasso's booties on. He is not a fan of his feet being touched, which is why I didn't start with him in the first place. He has historically been a hater of his feet being touched.

So I was super wary of touching his feet. He didn't really have much of an issue with me physically putting boots on his paws. He didn't try to bite me or anything. 

Taking the booties off was another story. He tried to bite me with each paw I tried to disrobe. He was so embarrassed that he wouldn't take another step further off the back porch,

I don't think the outlook of bootie wearing is positive in the DeGraf-Buckley household. This winter should prove to be interesting.

#firstalaskanwinter

The Highway

I'm slowly making progress across British Columbia. This place is huge, in case you were wondering. I drove approximately 10 hours today.

I saw a bear today! It took me 3 days before I saw any form of wildlife I had been warned was going to cross the road. I actually saw two bears and the first bear I saw was actually crossing the highway. That first bear I saw was the highlight of my day. I've never seen a real wild bear before. He was a little black bear. I was so excited when I saw him that I exclaimed, "ITS A BEAR!" to the sleeping frenchies in the back seat. They did not give a shit about the bear at all. The second bear I saw was sitting on his butt in the ditch on the side of the highway eating something.  

I keep using the word highway. It's technically a highway. It's called highway 37. But lets get real here. Half the time it's a gravel road.The other half of the time its a paved road. But it doesn't have lines painted anywhere. It's the wild west of highway travel.

The highway at its best.

The highway with no identifying lines.

The highway is really a gravel road.

The speed limit is impossibly slow, also. Not that I'm concerned about being pulled over by the police. I barely see oncoming vehicles anymore, never mind any kind of law enforcement. The speed limit is what the speed limit is on this highway because it's so curvy through the mountains. Oh, and because its freaking gravel. Death is imminent if you go too fast. 35 mph to 65 mph is all I can really muster. And 65 mph is technically speeding. 

I had to figure out how to switch my car over to read kilometers and liters of gas. It's still weird seeing it written on the dash that way. I can't wait to get into Alaska and be done with this metric system stuff. I have no idea how much gas I'm putting in my car at any given time. I'm not doing math-- I am an old dog who won't learn new tricks.

And speaking of dogs, here are pictures of my dogs in Canada:

I so badly want to call them French Canadian Bulldogs.

They are being amazing travelers. They've been on the road since the 7th and they are cooperating surprisingly well. They sleep in their kennels while we are on the road. We get out and go potty every 2 hours or so and take a short walk around a rest stop. They are great travel companions. 

Cuteness Update

Just a little photo update on how adorable my french bulldogs are.

I'm a really proud dog-mom.

Friend of the Year

I've been walking my good friend Tracy's dogs for her while she is in Drill Sergeant School. Every Sunday I go over to her house and pick them up from her mom and take them on a 4 mile walk through the back wooded area of Fort Campbell. My job is to wear them out. 

The dogs are two giant and beautiful German Shepherds. One thing I didn't know about this particular breed is that they are very vocal. And when I say vocal, I mean these dogs howl. They are so excited to go on these walks with me that they just scream in the car the whole ride out there. Yodeling and barking, and jumping from the front seat to the back seat. Paws on the dashboard. Accidentally rolling down windows and shifting the car into neutral while I'm driving. Barking right in my ear. I literally drive with my a finger in my right ear to try to protect my eardrum from these dogs.

They are so excited. And it's flattering. But I really feel like I should be winning Friend of the Year for doing this for 10 weeks! Thank God I'm not transporting these dogs in my own car. Tracy's mom lets me borrow her Jeep.

Once we actually get out onto the trails they are wonderful. They mind me. They don't run off. They don't need to be on a leash. I love them. On the way home, they sit quietly and look out the window. It's just the ride there... its a three ring circus. 

Today's walk was in the snow. It was so beautiful. I took the dogs back onto a range I've never personally been on. Special Forces train back there, and since it's President's Day weekend, I figured no one would be training. I was right. It's a nice MOUT site. I liked the change of scenery, and I think the dogs actually did too. 

Only a few more weeks walking the dogs until Tracy comes home. I'm going to miss the walks. 

But not the drive. 

Christmas Tree

We put up our Christmas tree on Thanksgiving. I know. I know. Normally I wouldn't do such a thing. A clear division of holidays is something I normally like. But I got a new tree this year. It's my first fake tree (I think... did I have a fake one when I lived in Washington? I don't recall...). I got a tall, skinny, trendy tree. 

I love my tree. It's pre-lit. So I didn't have to screw around with strands of lights. The best part of it being pre-lit is that is hasn't lit my house on fire yet. I haven't unplugged the tree since I first plugged it in on Thanksgiving. The bulbs aren't even a little warm. So three cheers for not burning down my house, new Christmas tree.

I also got a Fort Campbell ornament this year. I thought it was really cute. And now I wish I had one from the other two bases I've been stationed: Fort Lewis and Fort Bragg. I'm sure the good old internet can remedy that. 

The dogs have been good and left the tree alone, to include all the gifts that are piled up underneath. 

Only 6 more days until Christmas. 

My Family

Gertie loves her Daddy.

Picasso lives for his Momma.

For whatever reason the stereo type of Momma's Boys and Daddy's Girls rings true even with dogs. Love my family.

Xmas Decorations

I don't usually get too excited about Xmas. I don't usually decorate too much. But this year, I can't wait to put up my tree and get lights on the front porch. I know, Thanksgiving has yet to pass. And James' words of wisdom that we need to celebrate one holiday at a time have made me refrain from putting up the tree (which is new and pre-lit and I can't wait to see it).

While James was at work today I cheated a little bit and put up lights on our front porch. I couldn't help myself. While I was at Wal-Mart earlier today I saw a light up raccoon and it spoke to me. Not literally, of course. But I couldn't say no to the weirdness of a light up raccoon wearing a Santa hat. I didn't have a choice really. I had to put it up today.

So this is my weird raccoon:

With the flash on, you can see my weird metal french bulldog that is always on the front porch regardless of season:

I think I'm going to get the metal frenchie a Santa hat to wear. Just to add to the weirdness that is my front porch. The day after Thanksgiving, my Xmas tree is going up. #sorrynotsorry  

Fall Doggie Photo Shoot

I got out the good camera today and tried to take pictures of the frenchies. Picasso is more cooperative all around when it comes to things like this. He doesn't mind wearing ridiculous sweaters, and he has no problem standing somewhere and looking thoughtfully off into the distance. Gertie, on the other hand, was embarrassed to wear her sweater and just wanted to eat grass. 

Out of the 85 pictures I took, here are a few winners:

Maybe we will try again at Christmas....  

This Face

I just had to share a picture of this face.

Derp.

Gertie's got to be the cutest dog in the world. She sits on the spare bed beside my desk and watches me do homework. It's so cute, annoying at times, but cute. She gets impatient that I'm staring at the computer screen instead of sitting with her. 

Picasso's Birthday!

Today was Picasso's birthday!

He's a grown up 5 years old now! It's hard to believe he's gotten so old! It seems like I just picked him up from Drain, Oregon when he cried the whole ride home. That drive sort of made me reconsider getting a puppy. I'm glad I didn't run away screaming, because he turned out to be my special little guy. Even if he does have a lot of social issues. 

Picasso had wet dog food for his birthday dinner. It was some awful chicken dish that also eerily reminded me of an MRE. (What the hell does the Army feed us!?) We took a long walk, where he peed on everything, as he usually does. There are a couple marigold plants in the neighborhood that I have no doubt belong to him.

Happy birthday, Picasso Destroyer of Worlds! My special, most favorite little boy!

Gertie's Birthday!

Happy birthday, Gertie! My little girl turned 1 year old today!

 

 

All day long I have been telling her she is a big girl now. Its time to cut out all the puppy crap. She has yet to take my advise/warning to heart since she ate cat diarrhea and vomited it in the house twice today. That is not big girl behavior.

 

Her birthday was uneventful. Which is fine, because she is a dog. It rained most of the day so we didn't get to go for a walk. But she did get wet dog food for dinner (yummy) and it smelled like a beef MRE (not so yummy). I also gave her a bright pink dog crate! I assume it's still politically correct to give gender associated toys and accessories to animals, right?

 

Happy birthday Gertrude The Impaler! Mommy loves you!

Gertie is Cray-Cray

My dogs absolutely love me (I mean, who doesn't??). But their love and devotion goes a little too far. They end up fighting each other over who gets to love me the most. When I say fighting, I mean, knock down drag out, dirty fighting.

 

These jerks have caused each other many injuries to prove who loves me the most. Literally, Gertie has lost 2 teeth fighting Picasso.

 

How can a dog this sweet looking be so thug acting?

 

Gertie starts it. No doubt about it, she is the instigator. I don't know if it's because she's "new" and she feels like she's been shafted on the love Picasso got the first 4 years he was a single dog. Whatever her reasoning, she's super mean to him.

 

He puts up with a lot from her. Even when they play, she's mean to him. She's always biting his face and hanging off his loose face skin. She bites his legs and sometimes she even bites his little boy parts (because, hey, they're there?). Sometimes he does retaliate and start the fight. But I can't blame him when he does because he puts up with a lot of her shit.

 

But Gertie is just a little gangster. She's out for blood. Her lips are always covered in scabs from boxing with Picasso. She's so jealous of Picasso that he is afraid to sit in my lap because of the repercussions.

She's also bi-polar. After I tear them apart from a fight, she calms down, gets her shit together and then goes over to Picasso and licks his face. She's probably licking the blood off his face. Gertie is seriously crazy.

 

Don't even get me started of the strange things she "has ownership" of over Picasso. The garbage bag on its way out of the house-- that's hers. The open dishwasher-- that's hers. Groceries being put away-- those are hers too. Picasso will get jumped if he goes anywhere near those things.

 

String cheese is ALWAYS Gertie's.

 

She's just a little jelly thug and I am at my wits end trying to protect Picasso from her. She loves me, and its dangerous.

It's Too Freakin' Hot

I slept in today! It's Sunday and I slept in until 0800 and I didn't mean to. I know that doesn't sound like I slept in, but since it was forecasted to be approximately a billion degrees today, I wanted to get up early to walk the dogs. French Bulldogs literally melt and die in the heat. I wanted to beat the heat. I did not really beat the heat by waking up at 0800. I looked at weatherchannel.com just to be sure and this is what I saw:

 

 

Jesus.

 

It went on to say: "BE SURE TO PACE YOUR PHYSICAL ACTIVITY. DRINK PLENTY OF WATER. AND SEEK SHADE FROM THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON THROUGH SUNSET. AVOID BECOMING A VICTIM OF HEAT EXHAUSTION OR HEAT STROKE."

 

Seriously, it was all in capitals. Weatherchannel.com was screaming at me to stay inside today.

I got up real fast and took the dogs for a short walk. I didn't want to completely cheat them out of exercise since I was lazy. We walked about 3/4 a mile and their tongues were practically dragging on the cement. Poor guys.

 

I really can't live in these conditions much longer. Its so freaking hot in Tennessee. I could deal with this heat and humidity better if there was a silver lining-- like an ocean. But there is no ocean. There is just miles and miles of humid woodline. I need to get out of this place! Its not natural for humans (and Frenchies) to live here!

Frenchie Kisses

 

Frenchie kisses from my little girl.

 

Taking a brief moment out from being totally bad to show some love. Quick, witness it, because Gertie's going back to being a little thug in a few seconds.

Their Paws

 

Their paws seem to be completely harmless. But James and I have come to realize that they are anything but. French Bulldogs have weaponized paws that will instantly lull you to sleep. A sleepy-time secretion is released through the paws and enters your body through skin on skin contact. You are utterly defenseless against it.

 

I think it even works on each other.

 

Be warned. Naps are inevitable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Snow In The New Year

Happy 2014 y'all!

James and I rang in the new year super lame and stayed home. I had been feeling sick (NOT hung over, thank you very much) and didn't want to be out in public. We stayed in and let off fireworks at midnight.

We are 2 days into the new year and Mother Nature got frigid cold and took a big snow dump on Clarksville, TN. This is our first real snow of the year... (duh)... well, first real snow of the winter season! And Picasso hates it. He's seen snow before. Last Christmas he saw a lot of snow in Iowa. But having experience with it didn't make him appreciate the "winter wonderland" outside our doors when it came time for him to walk through it to go potty.

 

 

 

The potty venture was quick, and he immediately hauled ass back to the door to go back in. Picasso is an indoor kind of guy. He wasn't trying to deal with me calling his name and making enticing clicking noises to get him to look at me, so I couldn't get a picture of his unhappy bulldog face. Not amused at all. We He was very set on being back on the couch.

According to weatherchannel.com, it's not going to get any warmer or less snowy any time too soon. Picasso might have to wear a sweater when we go out from here on out... James will be so embarrassed.... :)

Black Listed

I tried to take Picasso Scissor Hands to the PetSmart groomers today to have his nails trimmed. His nails were clicking over the linoleum like the raptors in Jurassic Park, so it was time.

 

He's been to PetSmart about 100 times, but he is always a nervous wreck when he's there. His whole body shakes and convulses. He lays his ears back whenever someone approaches him. He won't eat a treat that's offered to him. He won't even play with another dog that sniffs him. Basically, he's nothing like himself when he's at PetSmart.

 

Today as I signed him in, he was shaking terribly as always. One of the groomers came out and tried to lasso him with one of their leashes to take him into the back room and Picasso jumped up and snapped at the leash. It scared the girl. Understandable. But Picasso was scared, too. I asked the girl if I could lasso him for her, and she told me, "No, I have to do it." Well, suit yourself. She tried lassoing him again and he snapped again.

 

She told me she absolutely could not trim Picasso's nails because he is a "mean dog". Mind you, Picasso was totally freaking out at this point. He couldn't get away from this woman and her lasso fast enough. I was miffed she referred to Picasso as a "mean dog" so I left without another word.

 

Once Picasso and I got into my car, I could smell it... he had expressed his anal glands during the second attempted lassoing. He had, no doubt, left anal gland juice all over the groomer's floor and I was too mad to notice. Ha, that's what you get, groomer lady: call my dog mean again and see what happens.

 

Does this even slightly resemble a mean dog?!

 

Bad Dog Mom

Picasso had a birthday this month! He's a 3 year old little man now!

 

And I could have sworn on my life his birthday was today, the 26th of August. I hyped up his birthday to him all weekend long. I hid his birthday presents until today.

 

I got an email from AKC yesterday that I opened today that read as follows:

 

 

Hmm. This is dated the 25th of August...

 

This means I've been celebrating his birthday on the wrong day for the past 2 years (since I didn't celebrate his OG birthday-- I didn't know who he was yet). I felt like the biggest douche of a dog mom. You'd think his own MOM would know his birthday and not have to be corrected by the American Kennel Club! I immediately showered him with his withheld birthday gifts. He didn't seem to have the horrified reaction I did. He mostly just ate his treats.

 

So for future notice, to all of you who follow Picasso and his endeavors, his birthday is actually August 25th. FYI. I know I need to adjust my calendar...

4th of July with The Clarks

I flew from Boston to Aberdeen Proving Grounds this morning to see one of my best friends and her family. Ashley and I were roommates when I was stationed at Fort Lewis. We got to see each other briefly last summer while I was attempting EFMB at Fort Sam Houston-- where she was then stationed.  But really, it had been over 3 years which is WAY too long since I've seen this girl!

Ashley and her husband David had their first baby 4 months ago. Jayla is a very sweet and adorable little baby. As many of you know, babies and Jackie are awkward together. I have not worked up the nerve to hold her yet, but Jayla and I have an understanding that I will eventually pick her up. And I will try not to hold her like she is dripping, like I did the last baby I held (that didn't turn out well). 

Pretty, pretty drool princess!

After my very exhausting drive from Providence to Logan International Airport at 0300, Ash and I decided being bums would be perfectly acceptable so we just hung around the house all day. I know it's the 4th of July, and it's the most super American holiday but I'd rather bum around and grill some burgers and relax than fight crowds to see 30 minutes of fire works. I am very aware I love America without fireworks.

Besides, I've made a new best friend at the Clark household. This is MJ, their half wiener half some other kind of mystery dog:

MJ loves Aunt Jackie.

MJ (which is short for Michael Jackson-- check out that one white paw) wants to play with me all the time. He brings me his toy chicken and whines until I throw it. Even if he's not close by, he still whines until I throw it. He wants to be in my lap at all cost. I really like this little wiener dog.

I'm so glad I came to visit Ash and David. Happy Independence Day 2013!

Sadie

This reminds me of my mom and dad's black lab: