Tomato Carnage

I thought I was being super healthy this Saturday when I used a coupon to buy not one but two big bottles of V-8 juice, the low sodium variety.  I also thought I was Miss Muscles and decided to layer all the plastic bags and the 12 pack of toilet paper so I could bring everything into the house in one trip.  I guess the 20 extra steps I would have had to take to do it in two trips was more than I could bare.  Well, I was opening my sliding door when one of the bottles of V-8 slipped out of the bag and hit the edge of the stairs in just the right way that sent blood-like juice splattering all over the patio, the grocery bags, and my legs.  Thankfully, it's warm enough now that I was able to reattach the house and spray off the patio.  I would have included a picture but then my blog might get an M rating for mature audiences only.  Let's just say it was pretty gruesome.  While I'm on the subject of gross, I found one of Dudley's claws on the stairs.  Yup, it just popped off.  At first I couldn't figure out what it was, but after realizing it was one of his nails I think I threw up a little in my mouth.  Yuck.  V-8 anyone?

Community Ed.

I just received my Spring Granite Peaks catalog in the mail.   Oh goodie. Hidden amongst all the computer and language classes you can always find a few gems like:

Boomer Belly Dance

"...aerobic activity perfectly suited to Baby Boomers looking for a new, fun exercise!  If you're tired of going to high-priced gyms and exercising, surrounded by 20-year olds..." then by all means sign up for a class where overweight 50 year olds can flash their jiggly bellies.  No thank you. 

All the single ladies out there are going to want to check this class out -- It's surefire man bait.

Medieval Swordsmanship

"Study the historical European martial art of swordsmanship.  Start with the beginnings of sword, dagger, and grappling techniques ....Contact sparring and close quarters grappling is expected.  Wear well fitted gym clothing -- no shorts please."

The guys that played Dungeons and Dragons in high school now have an outlet where they can dress up in tight gym clothes and re-enact fight scenes from Middle Earth. 

What the heck is an angel gathering?  No really...

What the Heck is an Angel Gathering?

This is a free class so if your pinching your pennies it may be the one for you.  " An introduction to the Angel Gatherings based on the teachings of Archangel Michael...find your color (to be used in the sacred geometry), ask questions, get on waiting list for an upcoming gathering."

and finally,

Fear of Money

"Are you allergic to money?"  Then come spend $35 dollars so you can learn to clear away blocks with the use of kinesiology ad empower yourself to attract money.

Seriously, who signs up for these classes?  You've got to love community ed.

Some other offerings:

Ghostbusters

Owl Viewing

Beginning Bridge

and

Whodunit? 

"Do you have what it takes to solve the case?  If you've dreamed of becoming a Sherlock Holmes or Gill Grissom, here's your chance.  Collect evidence, conduct interviews and see if you can figure out who the guilty person is.  You must be eighteen years or older to take this class."  I can't really mock this one because it could be kind of fun.  Maybe like a real life game of Clue, but it could also be creepy and gross.  Why do you have to be 18?  And what cases are these people trying to solve?   

Dudley Update

It's time for a Dudley update.  So, the other day I got home from work and made my daily climb up a very steep staircase.  Dudley had greeted me at the back door like he always does by jumping up and giving me what I like to call a "Dudley hug".  This usually consists of a two-paw embrace while jumping on his hind legs, claws out, and slobbering.  One day he is going to jump up while I'm leaning down and my next post will be about how Dudley broke my nose, but I digress.  As soon as I dropped everything off at the table and went to check messages on the phone and the contents of my refrigerator, he bolted upstairs.  This is highly unusual and should have been my first warning sign.  But as I was enjoying some peace and quiet Dudley was quite busy.  It dawned on me when I got the the third or fourth step that something was not right.  Dudley was laying at the top of the stairs gnawing on something.  Oh no.  It couldn't be my glasses because I was wearing them.  He didn't find that brand new box of tampons I just bought, did he? No, those are locked up in the closet.  (I'm not going to make that mistake again.) What could it be?  I haven't had sofa pillows since his arrival.  (Note: covering your couch in aluminum foil each day when you leave for work, does not deter a determined puppy from getting to those fluff-filled pods of wonderment.  I foolishly believed the dog trainer when he said the the crunching foil noise would scare him and Dudley would never want to 1 - eat my pillows or 2 - lay on the couch.  All the diligent foil wrapping got me was ridicule from my dad who stopped by one day after golf and tired legs from standing.) No, at the top of the stairs was this:
Photo reenactment -- there was no way I had the presence of mind to capture this on film.

Four crumpled wads of wet, gooey, dollar bills.  Wait, what did I see in the corner of his mouth?  Still one more?  And thus began the adventure of me trying to pry Dudley's jaws open while I retrieved my dollar  In these hard economic times I was not going to let it "go to waste".  I apologize...I'm an avid Cake Wrecks reader and she is seriously punny.  I can't help it. Anyway, I knew getting a dog was going to be an investment but I didn't think he'd actually resort to literally eating my money.  He had to search it out.  It wasn't as if I leave money on my bedside table like I do my water bottles (his third favorite treat, next to peanut butter and cheese).

The dollars were in a pocket, in a laundry basket, in my closet.  he didn't even bother to take the pants out of the dirty clothes, he just rooted around in the basket and helped himself to the contents of my pocket without disturbing anything else.  He'd tell you it was my fault for leaving the closet door open.  That, or Dudley has somehow miraculously learned how to open louvered doors.  This might actually be a possibility because a few mornings later I awoke to a strong fish smell.  I had made a tuna sandwich for dinner the night before, but I know I tossed the can into the trash in my "garbage closet" and I never leave that door open.  Well, this is what I found:

This image actually lends support to Amie's pet name for the Dudster.  She likes to refer to him as Montecor.  Montecor gained fame after ending the legendary Vegas run of Seigfried and Roy following an unfortunate mauling incident.  I think Amie lives in fear of coming over for a friendly visit and leaving to spend the next two months under heavy sedation after having to undergo a face transplant, (Yeah, I'm talking about crazy women who let her pet chimpanzee eat her friend's face.) While I have yet to be mauled, those Dudley hugs I'm so fond of do tend to get a little aggressive.  So I will continue to throw money at him in my efforts to tame this savage beast.  The last stupid purchase I made was for the Pedi-paws during our Black Friday shopping expedition.  It was my fault for believing that Dudley would actually sit calmly while I lifted his nails into position and filed them down without incident.  I mean really, you saw the tuna can.  How delusional do I have to be? 

For now, I think I'll just sit back and watch Marley and Me and relish in the fact that while the Dudster can be naughty, he barks at scary things in the dark, warms my toes when it's cold, and never jumps on me when I cry.  So for now, I'll keep him around, unless he eats my glasses...again.