September 27, 2007

She's definitely not Hella Good

After returning home, kicking and screaming, from our amazing 10-day trip to California, we went to Chandra and Kevin’s to pick up Lady Belladonna. I brought her home with me on July 7th. We left for the west coast on July 27th. She had only been OUR dog for 30 days, 10 of which we were gone. I was terrified she wouldn’t remember us. Well, really I was worried she wouldn’t remember me. I was the one who brought her home. I was the one who rescued her from the shrieking 5-year old Hispanic child, who tugged on her sweet doggy ears and shoved fat baby fingers up her little doggy nose, that belonged to the other family that was looking at her that day. I was the one who went home at lunch to let her out so her tiny little puppy bladder wouldn’t explode midday. I was the one who got up early to play with her and raced home at night to do it again. She and I spent 8 days alone while SK was in Canada. She loved me most and I was afraid she would have forgotten that.

Turns out, she remembered exactly who we were and peed on our shoes a little to prove it when we ran in to see her.

She had gotten bigger, not learned to drink her water any neater, was still not good at sharing toys, had gained not one ounce of agility or coordination and still whined for her treats when she saw anyone move toward a cabinet. However, she HAD earned a nickname. Because of her hyper-active nature and tendency to tear around the house (smashing head-first into walls and doors and bouncing off like nothing had happened) as if she had a fire lit under her ass, she was dubbed lovingly by Chandra as “Hella Bella.”

In April, we house/dog-sat for Chan and Kevin while they were on their honeymoon and spent quite a bit of quality time with their “children.” Abbi and Baxter are both Boston Terriers and are 4 and 3 years old. They are, quite possibly, the most energetic dogs I have ever met in my life. They are also the sweetest little dogs EVER, and are extremely well-behaved (and no, I am not writing that just because I know Chandra reads my site). They are spoiled little puppies—they sleep IN the bed with Chandra and Kevin, they get put up in a Doggy Suite when they are boarded, and Abbi even used to get pink pedi’s when Chandra worked for a groomer in college. We rarely left the Crane house when we were house-sitting. Being in an actual house was so nice and after the many emotional months leading up to my best friend getting married I was freaking exhausted. So we hung out with the dogs, watched tv, and made surprise meals out of whatever Chan and Kevin had left in their pantry. While we were at work Chandra’s mom or sister would come over at lunch to let Abbi and Baxter out. Something happened mid-week and someone didn’t make it over one day, so the dogs were inside for something like 9 hours straight. Not a huge deal for them usually, but apparently Bax was either pissed that no one came to see him or really just couldn’t hold it anymore. Nonetheless, I got back to the house after work and was greeted by a smiling Abbi, a nowhere to be seen Baxter, and a steaming mound of poo under the dining room table.

Thus he shall be called BaxTURD.

SK got home not too long after that and I informed him of my moniker moment of genius. Not to be outdone he christened Abs AbPEE (even though she is much too prissy to do such a distasteful thing anywhere but outside, out of view, in the perfect patch of soft green grass). We knew Chandra and Kevin would be so proud.

Bella is “Hella” something. Coincidence that as I typed in Hella my word count hit 666? I think not. While she can be sweet and adorable and so cute that I just want to eat her little face off, most of the time she is hyper and whiney and unable to do anything that remotely resembles cuddling. She cannot drink water like a normal dog. She slops it all over herself and the kitchen floor, sometimes even stepping into her bowl with her front paws because water is better absorbed that way, into the pads of her stinky feet. She will pace at the entry way, which is GOOD because we want her to let us know when she has to go out, but she will pace for no reason and then stand with her nose firmly pressed to her leash, which is hanging in the corner by the front door, occasionally looking up at me all HELL-O! I would like to go my 47th walk of the hour NOW please! We will call her to sit on the couch with us when we’re watching tv and she will run and LEAP into the space between us, usually landing a big-ass paw on SK’s crotch inadvertently helping in our decision to never have children, then turn and turn and turn and wriggle into the cushion and then turn and turn and wriggle some more until she decides that no, this is NOT comfortable and will NOT do, at which time she flies off to the love seat where she turns and turns and turns and wriggles a little over there, FINALLY collapsing on the floor with a huge, exasperated doggy sigh. She does this at least 3 times a night. You think I am exaggerating. I am not.

She even SLEEPS violently, which is evidenced by the following photos and why I say to those who ask if she sleeps IN the bed with us, HELLmotherfuckingNO.

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