How much is that doggie in the window?

Do any of you want a dog? Cheap? She's a gentle 8 year old black lab-Shepherd cross with selective listening. She's a maniac, but she's good with kids. Look, I'll pay you to take her.

OK, not really, but I was seriously thinking about it after our drive home from the city on Sunday. The kids were in the backseat, and Sally was behind them in the back. (It's a hatchback, so it's not a trunk...what do you call it?) I stick a laundry basket between the seat back and the roof, so that the dog stays put, which had always worked, but as we went over the rumble strips on the ramp from the 401 onto the 400, (one big highway to another) the dog went berserk. I'm assuming that the noisy grooved pavement is there to wake up sleepy truckers and keep them on the road, but I hate it. Anyway, the dog got scared and went insane and overturned the laws of physics to squeeze herself through a space she certainly didn't fit. She howled and squealed and got stuck halfway through, waking up the Princess when her nails got stuck in my baby girl's hat. Thank God she was wearing that toque, because without it she would have been scalped. So there I was, alone in the car with the kids, on the ramp between two major highways with no where to pull over, a psycho dog on top of my daughter's head, and nothing I could do about it.

By the time I got to the next exit, the dog was sitting happily on the Princess' lap. The Princess was still sobbing loudly, not surprising really, considering the way she'd been woken up and the fact that Sally outweighs her by half, but I was afraid to open the car door on the side of the highway in case the dog bolted and I couldn't hold her. I was mad as hell, but I didn't want to watch her get flattened by a car.

I cooed to the Princess and drove as quickly as I could to the first parking lot I found, which was thankfully attached to a Timmy's, and struggled to lift 80 lbs of madly squirming dog back in the trunk. (Wishing it WAS a trunk!) I tied her leash to the anchor strap of Bad's car seat, giving her no room to maneuver back over the seats (or more than 3 inches in any direction), cuddled the Princess until she was calm, and went through the drive-thru for much needed coffee (for me) and tim-bits (for the Princess). With his usual aplomb, Bad slept through the whole thing. Then I went home and googled kennels, because there is no way I am taking the dog with us on a car trip ever again.

Free advice? If your kids want a pet, spring for a goldfish.

A Girl and her Dog....

Yesterday some of you thanked me for reminding you not to get a dog. I feel a little guilty. I can't deny that it can be a huge pain, Sally has cost us big time in both time and money - but she was our first baby. We got her from a shelter on the Friday before Thanksgiving, 2 months after we were married. She was 9 weeks old. Her entire litter had been abandoned, and she was the last puppy adopted. We weren't the first to adopt her, but the first family returned her because their son was allergic. We brought her home and she did nothing but sit in my lap for days. She wouldn't even respond to a cookie or ball. Hubs worried that she was too placid. Um....no.

The dog is a runner. A jumper. A world-class chewer. I won't bother to inventory the household items she destroyed in the early days before we crated her. (Always and only when we left her alone...she had a massive case of separation anxiety that lasted almost 5 years.) Suffice it to say that the list includes a sofa and a fire extinguisher.

The Princess was born when Sally was 2 years old. We weren't sure what behaviour to expect from our pooch, but any jealousy she may have felt was overruled by her immense joy at having me home every day on maternity leave. She soon became extremely protective of 'her' baby, and would run to me and bark whenever the Princess cried, and then back to her station at the side of the crib.

Do they look guilty to you too?

The love was mutual. The Princess's first word was 'dog'. And then 'Oh! dog'. And then 'Sal'. She finally deigned to learn 'mom' and 'dad' sometime after that. In the mornings, when the Princess woke up, she would look around the room and call "Dog! Dog!" If I said "Sally's in the other room honey," my girl would start to cry. I'd call "Sally!" and the minute we heard the jangle of Sally's tags the Princess would laugh and clap.

Puppy Love

Just after we'd moved to our new house, when Sally was 3 and the Princess was 1, we dropped Sally off at the beauty salon for the morning. When we got home I put away our coats and looked around for the Princess. She was sitting in Sally's crate, tears running down her cheeks, crying, "Oh dog....oh dog.....oh dog." I had to laugh at those confused little tears.

Hallowe'en '04 - A sheep and a wolf in sheep's clothing

Our dog is good with kids, and has the patience of a saint. When the Princess was about 16 months old she dropped her cookie on the floor and Sally ate it. The Princess was furious. I still see this scene in slow motion. She stood up and grabbed both sides of Sally's mouth and pulled them outwards. She put her nose to Sally's and screamed. And screamed. I was sure she was going to be bitten and I raced across the room to them. Sally just waited until the baby let go, shook her head, and left the room. She hasn't taken food from her since. So yes. The dog is a pain in the ass. But she's our pain in the ass. I can't believe she's 6 already.

Road Trip

We took the kiddies and the dog and went to visit my parents for the weekend. I love going home. Mostly, I just love my mom and dad, but there a bunch of practical reasons I love it there too:

1. I have someone to talk to when Hubs is reading the paper or taking a nap.

2. I always get to pee by myself. My mom will always hold the kids, and unlike Hubs, she never lets them come and get me from the bathroom.

3. My parents are great cooks. They always have yummy food in the house, and if they're out of something my mom is happy to go to the grocery store 3 times in one day.

4. I have time to read.

5. There are 2 extra people to chase Bad and rescue him from danger.

Sigh. I wish they lived closer.

It was a lovely weekend, except for the drive home. Somehow, even though it was discussed, the Princess didn't go pee before leaving my parents. We were barely 1/2 an hour from my parents house when the pee-pee dance started. We made it to a Timmy's just off the highway, but stopping made the dog wake up and start howling, which made Bad wake up and start howling.

We got back on the 401 (at that point a 6-lane highway) and the idiot dog jumped over the backseat and onto the Princess. Hubs pulled over, wrestled Sally into the back, and tied her leash to the seat. We'd barely gone 100m when she jumped into the backseat again - but this time she was tied up so she was strangling herself and thrashing to get free. Everyone was howling. Hubs pulled over again, got the dog in the back again, and I crawled into the backseat between the car seats so I could keep the dog off the kids. I had to turn around and push her down 5 times before we'd even got started again.

We'd gone about 200 m when Hubs says "Where are my glasses?" He pulled over again, searched the console and his pockets and hit the dash in frustration. "I heard a crunch when we pulled away the second time. I must've run over my own damn glasses!" I was almost ready to let the dog take her chances in traffic, but Hubs has a huge soft spot for our stupid canine. "I don't know what got into her...she's never done that before. Bad was crying, she must've wanted to help him...that's the only thing I can think of...." You're sweet Hubs. But delusional.

Halfway home we stopped at a friend's to meet their new baby girl. (I love me some other people's babies!) The Princess and Sally both got tired out running around with their friends, and slept the rest of the way home, for which Hubs and I are eternally grateful. We must have missed the weather report because it was sunny when we stopped, but snow squalls when we left again. Luckily our friends called us 10 minutes after we'd left to warn us that the highway we would usually take home was closed due to a massive 100 car pile-up. We had to take back roads, but at least we weren't stuck sitting for hours in traffic with no options.

Hubs is a very calm driver in snow conditions but ever since having babies I've become a nervous wreck. It irritates him when I'm jumpy but I just can't help myself. I was sooo glad to see our dear house. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. If only it were that easy.

Oh - and the Monday 'Fatness Jones' update - I lost 2 more lbs this week, for a total of 8. Yay me!

Badness Jones' Emporium of Baked Delights....

My tummy hurt last night. After two days of baking and eating and cooking and eating and presents and eating and laughing and visiting and eating and eating and eating, I felt like my stomach was full of lead weights. I woke up this morning still full.

It was a wonderful Christmas. Santa came and spoiled my children. The expressions on their faces were priceless as they madly tore the paper off their gifts. I cooked a turkey dinner with all the trimmings for Hubs' family on Christmas Eve, and was in charge of dessert at my sister's house on Christmas day, so it felt like a bakeshop in here on the morning of the 24th.

Double Espresso Chocolate Torte

Apple Pie and Pecan Pie

Everything turned out wonderfully - I used orange juice as the liquid in the pastry, but I also used butter instead of shortening, and it was hell to work with. I'm giving you the recipe for the chocolate torte, because it was impressive and delicious, but also ridiculously easy and low effort.

On the Twenty's Signature Double Espresso Chocolate Torte

500g bittersweet chocolate, chopped (they recommend Callebaut, and that would probably make it even better, but I just used the extra-dark bars from President's Choice and it was still fabulous)

1 1/3 c. whipping cream

3/4 c. unsalted butter

6 eggs

1 c. sugar

3 tbsp. coffee liqueur

Preheat oven to 225 F. Butter a 10" springform pan, and line with parchment. Put chocolate in a large bowl. Heat butter and cream together in a saucepan just to a simmer, and pour over chocolate. Let sit 1 minute, and then whisk until smooth.

Whisk together eggs, sugar and liqueur and pour into chocolate mixture. Blend thoroughly. Pour into springform pan and bake for 2 - 2 1/2 hours until edges are set and center is still slightly soft. Cool at room temperature, then refrigerate overnight in pan before unmolding and cutting.

Eat. Moan with delight.

Christmas Dog

Is Santa still here?

No - but he brought exactly what she wanted.

OH - I cherish each and every one of your comments, but I would just like to register my astonishment that my last post, a post about the interior of my fridge, garnered more comments than anything else I have written here. I love you, but y'all are wierdos. Thank-you! I'm so relieved that it's not just me.

Liar, Liar

While commenting on yesterday's post, Jennster called me a liar. I laughed out loud - thanks for that. It got me thinking though, I lie sometimes. Of course I do. I lie to the dentist: "Yes, I floss twice everyday." To the doctor, "Only one alcoholic drink a week, and I work out ALL the time." I lie to acquaintances: "Your new haircut looks great!" I lie to my kids: "No, the cookies are all gone. Sorry guys." (Really, the cookies are hidden for after you finally go to bed.) I lie to Hubs, "I've just got the WORST headache, baby."

The lie I tell most often though, is to my dog. Sorry Sally. It all started innocently enough. Sally doesn't like to come in from the back yard. She feigns deafness when I open up the door and call her. Sometimes I can lure her in with a cookie, but even that doesn't always work. So one day, I was cooking breakfast and I wanted Sally to come in and I opened up the door and called "Sally! Sally!" Nothing. "Sally! Cookie!" Nothing. "Sally! We're having BACON" Within 2 seconds I had 70 pounds of excited and obedient dog through the door, kissing my feet, and ready to do my bidding.

The next morning when I wanted her to come in before I took the Princess to school I called again. "Sally! Sally!" Nothing. "Sally! Cookie!" Nothing. "Sally! We've got.......BACON!" 70 pounds of excited and obedient dog, sitting at my feet. Hubs was scandalised. "Don't lie to my dog! That's mean! How can you do that?!"

"Well, it works. That's how" And as long as it continues to work, I will continue to lie to the dog. I mean, I don't have bacon, but I do give her the cookie. For some reason she falls for it, over and over again. Once in a while, I do give her bacon - just to keep her guessing.

Now dish - what lies do you tell?