Made in Richmond

Here’s a video of Zapp in all her intelligent glory:

Sorry for the annoying sounds of MTV in the background.

Shooter loves letters. Not reading them, eating them. Whenever we’re holding a piece of mail, he tries to take it out of our hands to chew it up. Most of the time when he does this, we find a piece of junk mail to give to him because 1) He doesn’t ask for much and 2) We love to encourage bad behavior. I like to hand him a letter and say, “Quick! Take this to the commissioner!” and off he trots to shred the paper apart. In fact it’s become such a ritual in our house that Shooter gets very excited whenever we bring in the mail. So you can imagine his excitement when Ross came home with the goods from the Murphys P.O. box. As Ross was going through the mail with them via video iChat (OMG AWESOME TO SEE THEM), Shooter kept demanding his urgent letter. Here he is with his charge:

I think the commissioner is going to have trouble reading that.

Ok, so a break is being taken from the floors for the next week. Living room, dining room, 1/2 of the hallway and bathroom, 3/4 of the kitchen have been completed. We currently have just one working bathroom (the toilet from the other one is on the back porch because we’re classy), but the washer, dryer, and refrigerator are all plugged in and functioning.

AND you can walk around the house and not feel like you’re going to fall through the floor.

Shooter took to the floors very easily - I think he likes them because they match his fur. Zapp took some convincing, shall we say. And by convincing I mean giving her no other option. She finally came downstairs to eat after cowering upstairs for about 45 minutes. Now both dogs are sprawled out on the gloriousness and I’m assuming that she loves the floor because she’s licking it incessantly.

Seriously, it looks like a completely different house. A clean, shiny, floor-beams-touching-house. I can’t wait to use the Swiffer.

Oh and please note that I expect all visitors to float while at our house. I would like to keep the traffic to a minimum.

And now, a picture. Imagine this spreading for tens of square feet:

Leaving the house…

Yes, let’s get in the car. Hop to. Open the door please. Quickly, my feet have been on this wet grass far too long. Thank you.

In the car…

Can you please roll up the window? I don’t like how that wind musses my whiskers. Don’t you think I should be driving?

Arriving at the office…

Oh my goodness! We’re here! Please stop the car! You’re not stopping the car fast enough! I remember this place! This is where all of the ladies tell me I’m handsome and rub my chest! Let me out immediately! Miss, you’re not moving fast enough! Let me out at once!

In the waiting room…

Who has been here I know other ladies and gentlemen have been here but I can’t seem to find them do you know where they are where are the other dogs that I must boss around when do I get my chest rubbed have you noticed how handsome I am what is that in your hair let me remove that for you what is that in that cage making that horrible screeching noise?

Getting the vital statistics…

Excuse me! What do you think you are doing? I don’t think that is any business of yours. There is no way you are getting anywhere near me with that. Expect a letter from my lawyers within the next business day.

Meeting with the beautiful and snuggly vet…

Well, hello there. My I give you a kiss? How about a hug? Yes, I do love belly rubs. Oh, yes I know how handsome I am. Ha ha ha, yes I am a good boy. Do you want to slow dance?

The final examination…

You are getting a sample of what? No. Sorry. I save that pleasure for that lady who brought me here. She’ll bring it to you tomorrow.

-Fin-
Tune in next week for Zapp’s story.

…my brains have melted from the cuteness.

(Please remember to turn your sound on. And send it to everyone on this here green Earth.)

Ross went at the Phillies/Nationals game tonight. So, it’s just me and the pups. It’s storming out right now and, of course, Zapp is curled up in a tight ball on the bed and trembling so hard she might actually make her teeth fall out. Meanwhile, Shooter is pacing around the house, growling at every clap of thunder and flash of lightening. Ross has never seen him act like this because Shooter only gets so protective when I’m here by myself.

It’s really pretty sweet. When I’m home alone, Shooter stays close the front door where he will bark at every sound coming from the street, from the toilet, from nothing that the human ear can perceive. That is until I go upstairs where he will essentially sit on top of me until Ross gets home. He’s gotten even more protective since we got Zapp. I guess he thinks it’s his job to protect his girls. The thing is, I think if we were actually in a dangerous situation and he were presented with the opportunity to attack someone, he would probably just jump up and give the person a hug…or try to herd them toward the closet where we keep the food.

Let me leave you with a picture of him taking a rare rest from protecting our estate…

(C’mon. You know you want to bury your face in his soft, fluffy neck.)

We have had two major developments at the Catrow Estate. 1: Our new air conditioner allows up to keep all inside doors open at all times (we used to have to contain the heat into various rooms) and 2: We now corral the dogs into downstairs hallway when we are gone on short trips, rather than putting them in their crates.

Apparently those two changes have convinced God that we are worthy of a miracle. Our dogs now spend most of their days lounging around, sometimes wagging their tales in response to each other, but no longer wrestling on every surface of the house. Someone came to the door yesterday and Shooter just trotted over to see who it was, gave an obligatory alert bark, and then trotted off somewhere to rest up for his evening of being cute and sleeping. Zapp seems to have suddenly calmed down altogether and would rather sprawl out on the floor than stick her face in your ear and then beat you up with her tail. Sometimes she’ll disappear into the bedroom, only coming down when you say, “Girl! Dinner!” She’ll flop downstairs, eat, and flop back up to gab with her friends about High School Musical or something, I’m sure.

I. am. so. happy.

*Please note, however, that I have no clue how they will react when guests actually come *into* the house. The compulsory “hugging” and slight leaking on the floor might still happen. You have been warned.

The poor baby hates the 4th of July. Dogwood Dell’s finale almost killed her.

Though it’s hard to see, this picture shows our newest bedtime ritual. The rear end closest to you belongs to Zapp. The one farther back belongs to Shooter. Zapp’s new most favorite thing is to burrow into any blanket she can find and then prance around with said blanket on her head. This prancing is usually done on the bed and in the general direction of Shooter (who is also on the bed and it has to be his “general” direction because she can’t see where she is going, what with the blanket on her head). Shooter then responds by pummeling her, typically onto my lap or onto my MacBook which is typically on my lap. Then the mystical dance starts all over again, repeating until one of us explodes into a storm of grumbling fury, sends the dogs to their crates, and swears that we will never ever get another dog ever.

We discovered Zapp curled up in a trembling ball on our bed yesterday evening.  Of course we automatically thought she was having a seizure because of Shooter’s history.  But, she was responding to her name and the trembling stopped from time to time.  We think she has just developed a really bad fear of thunderstorms.  Just to make sure nothing was really wrong, we had her stay with us in the bedroom.  It turns out that this dog dreams like crazy.  And by dreaming I mean twitching and kicking ALL NIGHT.  I got about one hour of semi-decent sleep while the rest of the night was spent in that annoying state where you’re not completely with it, but you are fully aware that you are not sleeping and guaranteed a rough day come morning.