*****BREAKING NEWS*****

Forget the fact that John McCain just selected the former beauty queen/Wharton's fisherwoman who 21 months ago was mayor of a town full of Eskimos smaller than Hartselle to be one 72 year old 4 time cancer surviving heartbeat away from the Presidency... (did you know that Sarah Palin is actually an old Inuit word meaning Tom Eagleton?)

WE'VE GOT REAL BREAKING NEWS!

WE'VE GOT A YORKIE EAR POP.

Only one ear for now, so it might remind one of Jeff Leonard's old "one flap down" home run trot... (obscure Vice-Presidential references combined with obscure baseball references get bonus points) but nonetheless, it is the long anticipated sign of Yorkie development. (Sniff, sniff) I'm kind of going to miss the floppy ears...

The Adventures of Bogey

Since Bogey's arrival we've been getting to know him and introducing him to our friends and family. For the first few days he was a little shy, except with Buffett who he worshiped from day one. (It's taken a little longer for Buffett to warm up to him.) As he became more comfortable with us his "Yorkie-tude" began to shine through and the "Adventures of Bogey" began.

This is what he's been up to...

After watching one episode of MindFreak he tried Escape Artist on for size. It seemed to fit and now we must buy a new crate. We're still not sure how he wiggles out.

His potty training has been going remarkably well, with very few accidents (sorry Liz). Oddly, he has started using his piddle pads as toys, grabbing a corner and running, pad waving behind him like a banner. We're not sure if this means he needs more toys or that we don't have to buy any because he's happy to play with anything.


He still worships Buffett, and Buffett has grown to love him back. He follows him everywhere and does everything Buffett does. If Buffett gets water, Bogey gets water. If Buffett piddles in the far left corner of the yard, Bogey does too. He also loves to cuddle and spoons with Buffett every chance he gets.

My three precious boys napping together. They all woke up just after these pictures were taken because I felt left out and wanted to squeeze in with them. I am so blessed to have such a wonderful husband and two darling pups!

One of Bogey's favorite games is tug-of-war with Buff's tail. It's so funny to watch. He tugs as hard as he can and is so serious about his game. Poor Buff lets him play for a while but eventually gets annoyed and gives us his look that means, "seriously, can you get the kid a rope chew?"

This is that look.

A happy Bogey after a round of tug-of-war with brother.

What a Croc!

NO THEY ARE NOT!!!

In fact, after you celebrate say your sixth birthday Crocs are no longer acceptable footwear outside your garden. Ever. Under any circumstances. Even if your home is ablaze, they're sitting by the nearest exit and all other shoes are upstairs.

I'm going to give the six and under crowd a pass. 1.) You don't pick out your clothes anyway so it's not really your fault and 2.) I can understand their appeal as they're easy to put on and take off, inexpensive so your parents aren't investing much on growing feet, and simple to clean - just hose 'em down. But as soon as you can count six candles on your birthday cake it's time to retire them for something a little less plastic.

The rest of you should know better. It is not okay for a 38-year-old to wear Atlanta Braves-themed shoes. Not even if you are en route to Turner field. Even the more understated solid black or brown models are still hideous. Fashion isn't everything to everyone but no one has to settle for ugly.

Many of you Crocsies will argue how comfortable they are. Well, I wouldn't know as I've never let one near my feet, but are they comfortable enough to warrant actually wearing them in public? My house slippers are heavenly but I don't wear them out to dinner.

In addition to their comfort, the gospel according to Crocs, inc. touts their extreme light weight, their ventilation system that keeps feet cool, and their "ultra-hip Italian styling," as well as a few other bells and whistles. Now, I don't know about you but all the normal, non-ugly shoes that have crossed my path have never weighed so much that they hindered my day-to-day activities. And my feet generally maintain a comfortable temperature on their own so a personal air conditioning system in my footwear just seems unnecessary. Lastly, I've been to Italy; there were no Crocs.

So ladies, gents, children over six, next time you're headed out the door and reach for your Crocs or are shopping for new shoes and some Crocsie pressures you to join him on the dark side, please look past all the podiatrists' testimonials, advanced features and the attractive price tag. Look past these things and directly at the shoes. They're not a pretty sight are they? Look a little ridiculous, huh? I beg you. Keep Crocs off our otherwise clean, attractive streets...or prepare to be mocked.

Personal Trainers are Strict

My friend and neighbor is a personal trainer. She and I agreed to trade services: I design and re-work her closet and wardrobe and she kicks my butt into shape before my ten year high school reunion.

From the beginning I made her aware that I might prove to be one of her more "challenging" clients. I hate to work out. Sweat gives me acne, there is nothing I would rather wear less than a rubber-soled shoe, and the only time I feel it necessary to run is if I am being chased by an intruder with a deadly weapon of some sort. She would have to force me to exercise and I encouraged her to do so.

So today I started thinking about what a strict trainer she is. And by strict I mean great, excellent, the very best.

As hard as I try to tap dance around our workout and attempt to bribe her with wine she doesn't give up. It's not her reunion that is fast approaching. These aren't her flabby arms that must look svelte in the unforgiving, cap-sleeve dress I purchased for the event. Yet her persistence and energy endures. I'm pretty positive if I were in her sneakers and had to put up with me I would have walked a long time ago.

So thank you Liz for sticking with and not giving up on me. I praise you for your patience and dedication to the cause. I promise to get serious about our workout schedule and not fake illness or debilitating injury...starting Monday.

I want a pretty blog

After blog-stalking for the last couple hours I've come to the conclusion that our blog is not up to par. It is far less aesthetically pleasing than every other blog I read. So here is my question. How do I make our blog pretty? Please advise.

If Your Pet Sheds, FURminate Him

I silently freaked out when Carl came home recently toting what I believed to be a much too expensive dog brush. I, of course, kept silent because all too often I arrive home toting one thing or another, none of which we really need, and Carl rarely scolds me.

Excitedly he began detailing his adventures at Pet Smart and started listing off all the advantages of owning this expensive piece of yellow and black plastic. He opened with its name, knowing I'd think it was cute and forget he just spent my microderm money on a dog brush. "It's the FURminator," he told me. Shoot, he knows me too well. The name is genious!

Fearing I wasn't completely convinced of the FURminator's magic, he ushered Buffett and me outside for a demonstration (or "FURmination"). The single rake down Buffett's back that produced an entire fist full of golden hair was all it took. I was a believer. And I still am!

Since its introduction into our lives the FURminator has reduced Buffett's shedding by about 80%. I no longer have to pick up random hairballs each time I pass through a room. How the brush works is a mystery to me, but I don't need to know the science behind it. It works. In fact, this little dog brush has already proved its worth far beyond the 24k pricetag it came with. Never again will I question (even silently) Carl's canine hairbrush purchases.

So, if your pet sheds run to Pet Smart and get a FURminator. It will be the best thing you'll ever spend your microderm money on.

(Actual results following a single FURmination session, photo courtesy of furminator.com)

INTRODUCING....

...Prince Charming Bogart-Maxwell Cole (Bogey)

"Bogey" would like to thank the academy...as well as all those who participated in the 2008 "Name that Yorkie" contest. He extends a special thank you to Mary Bibb Pylant who contributed in great part to his naming. He hereby bequeaths his favorite squeaky toy to her in appreciation.