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my adventures are often on a budget… and always clumsy.

Archive for the tag “life”

theo theo theo

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It has been a while since I’ve shamelessly shared photos of my little man, Sir Theodore Prince of Bagle Hounds (Bassett+Beagle). It’s becoming increasingly apparent with age, temperament and head shape that this pup is more a Prince of Pitt Hounds than Bagle ones, but nonetheless, he’s one cute little guy.

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In looks.

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On the inside, Theo is nothin’ but a mama’s boy. But have no doubt, this kid is as much a teenager as I was sneaking around Stone Mountain Park to meet up with some boys, age 14. He’s sweet and vulnerable and cuddly… at home. When he’s around his friends, he’s rebellious, defiant and a sweet lovin’ terror, Terminator Style.

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I think my little rescue was weaned a little too early – he has a serious oral fixation problem. This man will destroy a foolproof indestructible neverevergonnadie toy in the time it take me to get out of the way. And balls? Fetch toys? Give it up. Go home. He never lets go. At the dog park, when there are 15 dogs jumping on me for the meaty treat in my hand, Theo plays keep-away by himself. When Theo has to poop, he runs in circles, toy in his mouth, disconcerted, because,¬†hot damn, he’s not letting go of that toy, even if it means¬†never pooping again, and Theo really likes to poop. Our dog park trips end with my hand inside of his mouth, prying apart his jaws, covered in slobber and spit. Theo happily licks his own slobber back off my hand. He’s a lover, after all.

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He likes to play in mom’s purse, find what goodies are hiding in there. This is an especially fun game when Zan, or worse, friends, walk in the house behind me, and there are pads and tampons (unused, come on!) strewn about my bed and shredded to pieces in his own bed. He likes to sleep on my underwear, stockpile them, like they’re blankets to keep warm for winter. And his shoe fetish! He brings my shoes, one by one, to his lair and lies in the midst of them, like a king on his weird shoe throne.

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And then he sleeps. And it’s like, how can I ever be mad again? Until tomorrow, at least? Matt likes to count the number of times I “oohhh” and “ahhh” at Theodore. I think he has finally lost count, because, my heart! It bursts! At least until he wakes.

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