New Member To The Mookified Compound

Look at how cute I am!

This is Gracie.  Officially her name is Sergeant Gracie Mae Lovell.  But we just call her Gracie.  She's a Yellow Lab mixed with Husky. And as I write this post, she's trying to lay on my feet... that is until I wrote that sentence, now she got up and decided to have food.  I feel she is just preparing me to go for a walk..yep, there's the singular scratch at the door signalling that I must do as I'm told before finishing what I want to do.  Just like a woman.  Speaking of women... here is proof of their craziness:



"I got it! I got it! Now what?"

Now I grew up with dogs all my life.  Gracie is the first dog I've had since leaving my parents' digs.  In all my life, the only dog I ever saw chase her tail, much less actually get it, was Odie from the Garfield cartoons and comics... until the other day.  I just assumed it was comedy on the part of animators, but it turns out this is serious real-life business.

Anyways... Last Sunday I was taking my boys up to stay the week with my parents, and the plan was to get a dog, Tucker, who had been getting nursed back to health at their local Vet hospital my mom clerks at.  It's a long story of neglect and malnutrition prior to them trying to save the dog.  On the day we were to go up, I get a call from my mom saying the dog was found dead.  Well, I had been set on getting my first adult-life dog for about 3 weeks at this point.  After doing some hunting, I found an ad on craigslist for Gracie, and she lived here in the Des Moines area.  Her previous owner had a life situation and had to find her a good home or turn her over to the ARL that same night.  So after a quick supper with my parents and saying good bye to the boys, my girlfriend and I hustled back to Des Moines to pick up this 4 month-old pup.  She's been either full steam ahead or napping it out since.

She only slowed down one day, and that was Saturday when we went back up to my parents to have her spayed and get all her shots, and then on Sunday bring her and the boys back home.  She actually rode in the car very well:

See me...I'm blond just like my new brothers!

 Oh, I was supposed to be in that seat back there?

I prefer the window seat.  Josh doesn't mind me using his lap!

The only thing about bringing Gracie into our home to really consider was The Colonel.  On night one he established himself as the top dog of the house, and asserted the difference in rank, him being an officer and her being enlisted.  As he went up to sniff her out, she moved behind a chair.  It was all over from there.  He chased her round and round the basement, him getting that puffy cat look and her running scared out of her mind with her tail tucked between her legs.  Gracie is scared of cats, and the Colonel took full advantage of his intimidation factor.  Only wish I had a video camera for that!  The basement is now been deemed solely the Colonel's territory.  He has another blue chair down there that he uses, along with the blue recliner in my bedroom he took over long before we moved into this place.  Gracie will now attempt to play assuming the "downward dog" position and trying to lunge forward a couple inches, but the cat mostly ignores her.  Unless he's in a corner, then he gets on his hind legs, hisses, and occasionally throws a couple jabs, and Gracie comes running for protection.

When outside, she is always on a leash.  She is getting better, but she is a puppy and can get distracted easily, whether its a scent trail, a moving bug, kids, people, squirrels, random sticks, trash... you get the idea.  Whenever she spies a bird on the ground, she does the classic "pointer" pose.  But she does do a decent walk along from time to time.  On the homestretch, she likes to reach back grab the leash in her mouth and give it a tug to let me know its her turn to walk me, and if I'm willing, she really loves to run along.  I don't know if that's just her thing, or the Husky side coming out.  While at my parents, who have a fenced yard, she was allowed to roam free.  At first she wasn't entirely sure what to do, but it didn't take long to go exploring.

She knows how to sit, lay down, shake, and hi-five.  I'd say she knows the STAY command, but it seems I'm not allowed to leave whichever floor we're on to go to another without her wanting to follow along...  She has grown attached to both my girlfriend and I, but she really seems to have bonded with me.  And with the Olympics on these last couple weeks, she decided to invent her own sport for us to participate in together.  I fell asleep watching TV one afternoon, as she was napping after a long hot walk.  I woke up to her having chewed a sandal, and now was trying to lick me to death.  So I got up, decided I would use the bathroom quick and then take her out for the same.  So I go to take a leak and I left the door open.  Hey it was me and the pets, so why not?  Well, she followed me over, stared at me, and then decided that her spot on the carpet in front of the bathroom was perfect to trying out her half of the "synchronized peeing" routine.  Part of me wanted to laugh, the other part wanted to cry, because I had to clean up.  That and we would've been penalized heavily on our synchronization skills since I was standing and she was squatting... We have a long ways to go if we're going to get that act into the next games down in Rio!

But anyways... She's the newest addition.  The Colonel tolerates her.  The kids love her, and she loves them right back...Josh even took her for a walk around the block at my parents.  And she seems to be quite attached to me and my girlfriend.  So I'm quite happy in how things worked out.  She got a happy home without going through the shelter system, and I finally get to have my own dog again!

And here is Gracie doing what I always wanted to do- fart on my dad!  She does me proud!!!!

Now I just need an official flag for the Mookified Compound...





Halloween And Fun With The Boys

Halloween this year for us ended up leaving our suburban neighborhood and took a two plus hour drive up to rural Sac City, Iowa, my old home town. The boys got a chance to see their Nana and Grandpa, and go out trick-or-treating in the small town.

After the drive up Saturday morning, the boys committed to their usual routine. Josh did not waste any time in getting himself onto Nana's computer to play video games, and Buggy was quickly out the door to go play with Jack, the neighbor kid.

After awhile, that all subsided and they went down to play in the mythical wilderness of my childhood known as The Ravine. Most of this year, the ravine was off limits as the city was re-doing the storm/sewage water drainage system. I noticed as we drove by The Ravine before bending the corner to my parents that the entire valley looked a lot different than in years past. The lower valley was filled in with lush green grass, and the creek bed walls were now lined in most parts with rocks to prevent erosion. The surrounding hills however were still pretty much the same as I remember them; lots of trees and brush with dead limbs and leaves all over the ground. The boys spent a considerable amount of time down there this weekend, just enjoying exploring the area. At one point I was asked if they were allowed to go through The Tunnel (also known to some of us older people as the devil worshipper's hangout). Unfortunately for the boys, I know the water runs right through there as it passes underneath 9th street, and now being a parent, I didn't want them to soak their shoes. However, I did allow them to go over the road to the continuation of the ravine on the other side.

Turns out, in the case of Buggy, anyways, I might as well have let them go through the tunnel. Buggy slipped at some point and ended up in the creek, soaking his shoes, socks and partway up the legs of his pants. Oh well I guess. All part of being a kid.

Sunday came along, and there was more time in The Ravine. I sent the boys down. Soon Buggy came back. He was bored because "All you can do down there is play." Well geez...Didn't realize that playing was so uncool these days. He wanted to play on the computer inside. I asked him what the difference was since inside all he could do was play. He informed me with all the authority a 6 year-old can muster up that there is a huge difference between inside and outside play. Well, okay solves that issue. I still kicked him back out. As I helped him get his shoes back on, he then proceeds to tell me that "Josh did his homework three nights last week instead of doing it during the day like he was supposed to."

"Are you being a tattle tale I," I asked.
"No"
"Well then," I queried, "What is it you're doing, if you're not being a tattle tale?"
"I'm just telling on him!"

I guess the difference is in how you say it, not the intent. I must've forgot that childhood lesson over the years!

But I sent him back out to the Ravine to play with his brother, and shortly thereafter I attempted to go in their and sneak up on them. Unfortunately for me, they knew I was coming anyways, and instead of occupy themselves, they put themselves up on the area known as "Lookout Hill" and waited for my arrival, so they could come and shoot me with their toy guns. Josh being Josh, had actually scaled a small tree to get even more height to scan the territory for the rebel invader known as 'Dad.' Like father like son. I attempted to go in around the other side of the ravine, but all the leaves on the ground wouldn't cooperate, and rustled as loudly as a freight train as far as I was concerned. they quickly came down from their position and scaled up the side of Death Mountain to take me out. I knew they were coming from me, I just didn't realize how fast Josh was able to come up the steep side of the hill, and he was on top of me pretty quickly. I'm either losing my edge, or he's coming into his own as a scout.

After I was taken out by my boys, we moved back to Lookout Hill, and began to make improvements to the old campfire spot I had as a kid. We repaired and improved the old fire pit spot, and began constructing a few blinds with dead saplings, other branches and sticks, and leaves. We also carved out a few paths on the hill by clearing out the leaves so we could move about in a quieter manner. The 'campsite' wasn't anything you'll find in a high end construction innovation magazine, or outdoorsman type publication. We just used the bare bones and no real method to our madness. We just kept plugging away at it, and pretty soon my dad was yelling down into the ravine from his backyard to let us know it was time to come back up as supper was being made.

"Oh man, the parents are ruining my fun time!" Was the all I thought when I heard him yell down to us. Just like the old days, when I was the boys' age. So we came up, cleaned up and had some supper.

Then 6pm rolled around and it was time to take them out trick-or-treating. Both the boys did very well, with both of their buckets getting filled up, despite the fact that we covered a LOT less ground than I did during my years of trick-or-treating in that town. After we got back to my parents house, I tossed Buggy's still-wet shoes and socks in the dryer, and they hung out with some kids of family friends who stopped over for awhile, and around 9pm I had everything packed up, loaded up the candy-inhaling boys, and hit the road for a dark ride back home, getting in around 1130 or so. the boys were woken up long enough to get inside, grab a drink of water and go right back to sleep, this time in their own beds.

I don't have any pictures of the boys in costume yet, as I'm waiting on my mom to send the pictures via email. So when I get them, I'll put up a real quick picture blog.