2012 Review: The Happiness Project

Today is the last day of 2012. Overall, I can't complain; it was a good year. It had its ups and downs, as does any year, and as I was looking through all of my photos from the last 12 months I was reminded of how many happy moments there were. I always welcome the promise of a new year and I'm excited about 2013 and moving into a new year and new adventures. Here's a glance back at my 2012 and the things that made it special. And yes, about 90% of these are of my girl. Every moment with her is reason to celebrate.

I wish you all the best that life can bring in 2013! Thank you for taking the time to read my little blog.

~Stacy

Tea for Two

Charlotte loves to share her pretend food/drinks with, well, everyone. Howard was the most recent recipient of her generosity.

Offering Howard some grape soda:

She disappeared to find something more suitable.

 She poured some milk into her teacup...

...and taste tested to ensure quality as Howard salivated in the background.

Howard isn't so sure about this beverage.

She decided to skip the formalities and just let him drink straight from her sippy cup.

Goofball.

Don't worry, Howard did NOT actually drink from her sippy cup or lick it. That would be gross.

Side note: Can you believe Christmas is almost two weeks away?? That's nuts. Thanks to the wonderful world of the internet, my shopping is done. The presents are wrapped and hidden in various places throughout the house, which may or may not have been a good idea. I'm worried that I ended up hiding a few from myself...I like the feeling of being done and having some time to do a little more of this before big day is here:

I hope you enjoyed your weekend.

~Stacy

Happy Birthday, Howard

Howard is three today. It feels like he should be at least twelve--not because he acts old but because it seems like we've had him forever. Is that good or bad? Some days both.

We brought Howard home on Christmas Eve of 2009. He was just about three months old at the time and beyond adorable. I chalk it up to temporary insanity caused by holiday cheer that we A) adopted a second dog (Henry was about 8 at the time) and B) adopted a puppy. I had sworn off puppies. Why? They're bad. They go to the bathroom on the floor, they need to be let outside several times a night, they whine in their crates, they eat stuff they shouldn't, their energy levels are through the roof and their razor sharp puppy teeth should be considered a weapon. They also need tons of shots, spayed/neutered, and LOTS of patience. And probably obedience classes.

This was taken about 10 minutes after Howard came home for the first time!

I honestly think living with a newborn is easier than living with a new puppy.

But alas, hindsight is 20/20 and while there may be no more puppies crossing the threshold of my home in the future there was one on December 24, 2009. He was part of a litter of six--three females, three males, and he and his brother were the only ones left. His name for the first 12 weeks of life? O'Donnell. Kind of cute, but I get a kick out of old man names for dogs. And Howard just sounded right with Henry.

Howard is a complicated creature. He has a lot of, shall we say, quirks. For starters, he doesn't really like anyone he meets. For a lot of people, he comes around eventually but "eventually" can mean over a year. Case in point: he adores my brother and sister-in-law, but it's really been only the past year or so that he's displayed any sort of affection for them. Before that it was apathy at best and hiding at worst. His circle of "acceptable people" has grown considerably, especially recently. I label him as "slow to warm."

He also dislikes other dogs. The ones he really doesn't like get barked and snarled at; all the others he just ignores. He's also been known to charge wildly at another dog, typically one who is large enough to eat him whole, barking like a madman and generally raising hell. He stops himself just in the knick of time because at his heart he's actually terrified. All bark and no bite, that dog.

There is one exception to his disdain for everyone else in the canine category: my parents' dog Frances. He loved that dog, worshipped the ground she walked on, and (we think) whole-heartedly believed she was his mother. When Frances passed away last summer, he was despondent. Sadly, he has not found their new dog, Izzy, to be a suitable replacement.

Howard and his one true love: Frances

One loss he wasn't despondent over? Henry. Henry and Howard had a strange relationship. They didn't hate each other, but there definitely was no love lost. They would get into occasional spats (always over food), which one time resulted in a wayward paw whacking Henry in the face and busting open his eyelid, which required not one but two rounds of stitches and anesthesia. Lovely. Other than that, they generally ignored each other when awake but oftentimes wound up sleeping in a heap together. One time Howard stayed at my parents house for a few days while Henry was here (recovering from surgery) and when Howard got home Henry forgot to act disinterested and ran to the door, excited. When Henry passed away, Howard was different--but I can't really say that he missed Henry. I think what he missed most was the security of having another dog around to show him how to behave and without that he went a little nuts for awhile.

Howard & Henry

Howard & Henry

Howard has a lot of anxiety issues and is generally a rather nervous animal. His bark is so loud that I can hear him at the end of the street with the windows closed. His behavior toward strangers (human and otherwise) is embarrassing and often frustrating. Where Henry could go anywhere with us and was happy to get pets from anything or anyone, Howard is usually not suitable for public consumption.

But...he has his positives. When he does get to know and like someone, they're in for life. He will get so excited to see you that he won't be able to run in a straight line. He'll jump in your lap, kiss your face, and fall asleep at your feet. He's one of the only dogs I've ever been around who truly is a lap dog. He'll come and curl up in a ball on my lap and let me use him as a resting place for my book. He'll snuggle up between us when we're watching TV and he finds his way into our bed every night, sleeping sweetly in a ball and occasionally offering a lick just to remind us that he's there and could we please, maybe pet his ears?

He loves going on walks and car rides. He's a smart dog who picks up on things quickly. He was the easiest puppy to train--easily housebroken, barely a peep in his crate, and never destructive of things that weren't his. His intense love of playing Frisbee is fun to watch, and the joy on his face as he's playing is the best. Oh, and he's really, really adorable. If he wasn't so crazy I'd send his pictures to ad agencies so he could be in commercials.

He's handled the huge life change of a new baby in the house as well as could be expected. There have been a few hiccups and bumps along the way, but he's adapting and coping a little better every day. We take the bad with the good, and his good definitely outweighs his bad. At the end of the day, there's just something about him that I love. Some days, especially his not so good days, it's hard to remember why I love this dog but I do. He's just my Howard. My three year old Howard.

Meeting Charlotte for the first time 

We put a ThunderShirt on him for the first time and he had no idea what to do with himself. This is his attempt at sitting.

We are celebrating by letting him lick the dinner plates when we're done eating and allowing him to sleep on the couch. Oh wait...that's every day.

Have a fabulous weekend!

~Stacy

A Fall Festival and an APL Success Story

This weekend we're taking Charlotte to a fall festival to pick out some pumpkins, see some animals, and (most importantly?) get some cupcakes. Gale's Garden Center  in Westlake (for those of you who are local) is having their annual Fall Event that benefits the Cleveland Animal Protective League. They have a huge indoor and outdoor space full of plants, pumpkins, fall & holiday decor, and activities for kids. The APL will be on site with some of their dogs and cats who need homes and a portion of the day's proceeds will go to them.

This event is especially near and dear to me because last year my parents ended up bringing home their dog, Isabel ("Izzy"). Their previous dog, Frances, had passed away about 6 weeks prior and a home without a dog is not something my family is used to. They were looking for a medium- to large-sized dog, preferably a mixed breed, preferably female and preferably a rescue. Oh, and most preferably NOT a puppy.

The APL had several adult dogs as well as a whole litter of young puppies that had just been brought into the shelter a few days before. The litter was adorable, as puppies are (they have to be cute, they cause too much trouble and mischief not to be). There were four of them, all black and all male, playing in a circle. I left the area to walk Charlotte around in her stroller and just as I was about to head back inside the store, I noticed a teenage boy holding a sleeping puppy in his arms. The puppy looked just like the rest of the litter, except it had a beautiful cinnamon color on its face, chest and feet. It was snuggled up to the boy like it had never been happier. I found out it was the 5th member of the litter and "it" was a "she." Uh oh.

I called my mom and told her to bring my dad over because there was something they had to see:

Goodness gracious. Puppies. Fuzzy eared, big eyed, clumsy cuddly puppies. They're irresistible. Within minutes she was in my dad's arms like she belonged there and, well, the rest is history.

Izzy on the porch of her new house

Izzy's first night home.

Izzy has turned out to be a wonderful addition to the family. She's sweet, mild mannered, not a barker, and likes pretty much every person and pet she meets. She also enjoys digging holes you could hide a small bear in, jumping up on things she doesn't belong on, eating anything except dog food, playing with her friends (Lila the mutt, Amani the beagle mix, Hawkeye the Westie and Doris the bassett hound) and going on car rides. She dislikes thunderstorms, fireworks, dog food, and having her schedule changed. Just last weekend she went camping for the first time, and other than a very unfortunate incident involving her discovery of a yellow jacket nest, she had a blast.

Just one example of the inappropriate things she jumps onto.

With eyes like that, you can't stay mad at her for long.

Izzy is an APL success story and I hope this year all the other dogs, cats, puppies and kittens can find their forever homes.

In addition to the APL, Alyssa's Cupcake Confections will be there from 12-3! She will have a bunch of delicious fall flavors, like Pumpkin Spice, Maple Leaf Donut, Apple Cider and Orange Honey Harvest. Needless to say, I am excited. Her cupcakes make my day.

If you are in the area, stop by! The event is Saturday, 9/22 from 10-5 at Gale's Garden Center in Westlake (24373 Center Ridge Rd.).

Come celebrate fall!!

~Stacy

A Good Team

They make a good team, Charlotte and Howard.  She's discovered that dropping food on the floor means Howard comes running and it's funny to watch him eat.  Now he circles her high chair like a shark, waiting and knowing that morsels of peas, Cheerios, carrots, cheese, or some variety of fruit will be sprinkled over the side of the chair at any moment.

"What Daddy?  I didn't feed the dog anything, I promise!"

"Mommy did it!"

"Look at this sweet face.  Do I look like I could ever cause trouble?"

"Haha, GOTCHA!"

For Howard, participating in dinnertime isn't enough--he needs a part in playtime, too.  He discovered a plastic ball underneath the chair and this is how that story ends:

He got stuck.

We all laughed.

The end.

I wish you all a very Happy Easter!!

~Stacy

Henry

My favorite Henry picture, taken right after we moved into our first house--June 2007.

 April.  This is the month, 6 years ago, that we brought Henry home.  If you're a pet owner, you know, deep down, that there's one pet you've had in all your years of pet ownership that is your favorite.  Not that you don't love the others, but there's that one...you know.  Well, Henry was ours.

If you're like me, you avoid reading stories or watching movies where you know the dog (or cat, or horse, or whatever) dies at the end.  I can't even think about Homeward Bound without getting choked up and they all live!  Don't even get me started on Marley and Me.  I read the book and had to keep leaving the room so Chad wouldn't notice my inconsolable sobbing once Marley got old.  It's out of control.  My point with all this is that this story is bittersweet.  Anyone who reads this blog knows that Howard is the only dog in our house now, so I'll get the bitter part out of the way now so you can enjoy the sweet.  Henry passed away on September 26, 2011 of old age and kidney problems.  He was 11(ish).  He died in his sleep, on the way to the vet, with his best friend at his side.

Ok, that part's over, on to the good stuff.

May 2010

We heard about Henry through Chad's mom.  She has always loved Corgis, and someone she worked with contacted her about one who was staying in a foster home and was free to a good home.  She was not able to take him but she knew Chad and I were looking to adopt a dog, preferably an adult who was house-broken and out of the puppy stage.  She called me with the details she had: 4 or 5 year old tri-colored Corgi who had just been retired and put up for adoption by the breeder who owned him previously.  Over the weekend Chad and I drove out to the farm where he was staying.  He was living in the office of a big barn on a horse farm about an hour away.  When we walked in he ran to Chad and sat in his lap.  The rest is history.  We left half an hour later with Henry in the backseat, though his name was not yet Henry.  It was Zaire, which did not suit him at ALL.  He didn't even respond to it, so we started trying out new names.  He answered to Henry immediately, as though it were meant to be. 

This is the first picture I took of Henry--he scored himself a Liberty Tax necklace at the parade.

When we first got Henry, he was really skittish about almost everything: wind, leaves rustling, clapping, quick movements, pretty much everything sent him scurrying a few feet until he recovered.  We'd had him a little over a month when our city had its annual Memorial Day Parade.  It just so happened that the house we were living in at the time was around the corner from part of the parade route.  We grabbed some chairs and walked down to the corner with Henry to watch the parade.  Henry was happy as a clam getting all sorts of attention and pets from kids and other admirers.  Soon we could see the parade rounding the corner, with the high school marching band close to the front, playing away.  As they passed, someone noticed that Henry was missing.  Uh oh.  We called his name, looked around, no Henry.  All of a sudden my dad started laughing and pointing at our house--Henry was sitting on the porch.  In all of the commotion with the marching band, he'd gotten nervous and high-tailed it home.  I was relieved for two reasons: he didn't get trampled in the parade and he actually knew where home was!

My boy and his dog. (July 2007)

Henry racked up quite a few stories involving him eating bizarre things.  Henry was a scavenger and loved, loved to eat.  When it came to eating, he did not discriminate.  Here are a few of his greatest hits, none of which resulted in A) immediate death or B) a vet visit:

Shortly after we moved to Bay Village we walked up to the ice cream stand at the beach.  As we sat on a bench eating our ice cream cones, Henry lied happily underneath on his leash.  We looked down to check on him and noticed that he had been busy licking up an entire scoop of vanilla ice cream someone had dropped.  Henry was thorough in his ice cream clean-up, so he not only licked up every visible speck of ice cream but also went all out and licked up every piece of sand and gravel the ice cream was laying on.  All told, he probably ate about a cup of gravel.  I won't share how I know this.

One of his favorite spots--under the Christmas tree.  (December 2010).

 My grandpa has a strawberry patch in his backyard.  A couple summers ago, when Henry was a little older and not interested in running around like a maniac with Howard, he sauntered over to the patch and investigated.  Soon after he was laying down next to it.  Next he tugged a strawberry off the patch.  I shooed him away.  He was dedicated to this new treat and was not to be deterred.  Several minutes went by when we heard loud crunching and looked over to see Henry laying in the patch eating bunches of strawberries.  I have no idea how many he actually ate, but my best guess is in the dozens.  He never showed any signs of sickness, shockingly.

In the late summer, we usually have little frogs in our yard that we see in the evening.  Henry and Howard were fascinated, but we thought the interest stopped there.  One night, Henry did not feel well.  It was not pretty, and Chad and I were in separate rooms on clean-up duty.  I was cleaning up one mess in the spare bedroom and heard Chad in the next room gagging and saying "Oh nooo, gross"  I yelled back "just hold your nose and breathe thru your mouth!" and he shouted back "there's a frog!".  Pause.  Silence.  Me: "What?"  Chad: "A frog. Henry ate a &*%^#*! frog.  The whole thing.  He didn't even chew."  More silence.  "And peach pits.  He ate about a thousand whole peach pits."  After we cleaned up the crime scene, we shuffled Henry into the bathroom and made him sleep in there the rest of the night.  He was fine, until morning came and he looked at us like we were crazy and abusive when we didn't give him breakfast.

Where's Henry?

 Toward the end of Henry's life his eating parties got even stranger.  I came home from work one day when I was pregnant to find a family size box of white rice torn and mostly empty.  Even though Howard was still a puppy I knew he wasn't too blame.  Henry was napping, with a belly so hard and bulging with rice that I was sure he would just explode any moment.  He never became sick, and he deflated by the next morning.  Several days later I came home and practically flew across the floor as if I were practicing an ice dancing routine in the kitchen.  I looked down and saw an empty bottle of vegetable oil and a very shiny Henry.  "Oh no, you did NOT do that!" I said to him, hoping that by saying it I could reverse what had happened.  He was a little ill after that one, but mildly.  I did have a large oil stain on my living room rug after that from a vegetable oil laden dog lying on it, then proceeding to lick it later.  It never really dried, not matter how hard I worked at it.

Look closely...where's Henry?

Henry's final crazy eating moment came when my parents watched him while I was in the hospital after having Charlotte.  He figured out how to get into their pantry and learned that the pantry = food.  My mom keeps the potatoes in a bag on the bottom of one of the shelves.  She heard some rustling and went in to find Henry standing in a pile of potatoes that he had peeled.  He peeled about half of her potatoes.  He hadn't yet eaten any whole potatoes (which he had in the past, and enjoyed them), but was standing in a pile of peels and bald potatoes.

Teaching Howard how to walk on a leash...

...and having patience when the leash became a chew toy.

Little brothers make good pillows (January 2009)

 Those are the highlights, but among other things, in no particular order: cherries, buckeyes, sticks, worms, a bird nest, a dryer sheet, newspaper, several buttons, and an ant trap.  He looked forward to winter because he LOVED to eat snow.  It was funny, until he would eat so much he would chill his body to the point of shivering for about 30 minutes post-walk.  The first time this happened I panicked, thinking he was about to die in my arms of some sort of seizure.  Nope.  We Googled his symptoms and determined he was chilled.  We wrapped him in a blanket and petted him until he stopped--he was unfazed the entire time.  I think he was just happy to be allowed on the bed that long and wrapped in the fleece blanket he wasn't allowed to sleep in.

Eating snow.

Howard eats sticks, Henry eats snow.  Sigh.

 Besides eating, Henry's favorite thing was getting pets and attention from anyone.  He never met a person he didn't like.  It was not unusual for him to stop on a walk when people passed us and just sit, waiting for pets.  Once, I was walking him down the street when school had just let out.  A group of kids walked toward us and they were interested in Henry.  He knew it to, because he pulled on his leash to make his way over to them and laid down in the middle of the road, flipped onto his back, and waited for belly pets.  On Halloween, he would sit outside and slowly migrate farther and farther away from the porch so he could catch as much pets as possible from all the kids.  I bought him a Superman costume to wear but the legs never fit because his were too short, so he just wore the cape every year.  One side would always end up wet and dirty because he spent so much time lying in the grass, belly up, getting pets.

October 2010.

Anxiously awaiting the first Trick-or-Treaters.  Halloween 2010.

 Henry's favorite things were eating, Chad, going on car rides, napping and laying in the sun in just about that order.  He would find the sunniest, warmest spot on the deck and lay there until his fur was scalding hot.  I would bring him water then eventually drag him inside because he refused to move and I was worried he would die of heat stroke.  He was just that laid back.

We used to joke that if you could listen to what's going on in a dog's head, Henry's would sound like a soft woooosh of air moving around.  He was not known for his smarts.  He was...sweet :)

February 2008, protesting our trip to Florida.

 We were newlyweds when we brought Henry home.  We got him right before we both graduated college, he moved with us into our first home and was there when we changed jobs (and careers).  It was Henry we came home to every day after work and who eagerly waited for us back here when we went on vacations.  Those huge Henry ears heard about all of our hopes and plans for the future, all of our disappointments, all of our celebrations, and all of the dramatic changes that happened in our 20s.  He was the first one to find out I was pregnant (Chad was at work) and he was here when we brought Charlotte home.  He saw us through a lot and even though he wasn't with us for very long it was long enough to know that he was the greatest dog we've ever known.

Henry meets Charlotte (June 2011)

His new napping buddy.

Maybe one of the reasons we haven't gotten much snow this winter is because he's up there eating it all before it falls.  Hey, it's better than frogs.  Or rice.  Or...you get the picture.

~Stacy