Gift Ideas List 2014

We're getting out in front of the "what do you want for your birthdays and Christmas" conversation by trying to keep the Gift Ideas List current at this time of year. It's also got what Mom has given us for her own wish list. We'll try to flesh out some of the, um, thinner items over the next couple of weeks, but here's some to get you started.

Our 48-Pound Chicken

After turning three, and spending now more than half her life with us, I'd have thought Fergie would have become a bit more self-assured. But it turns out, we don't have just a dog, we have a 48-pound chicken living with us.

"What was that?" Our fearless defender. (Photo: Glenn Cook)

Today I had to come home to meet the furnace repairman (don't ask), and on the way home listened in on a conference call from the office. I got home and walked into the house, and was not greeted by a wagging tail--which, we've come to learn, means she's upstairs on our bed, where she likes to spend as much time as we let her get away with. I walked around for a couple of minutes, while the muted speakerphone carried the voices of my colleagues' discussion.

After a minute or two I heard a series of "wuff"s from upstairs. Fergie was clearly calling out to whoever was in her house, and vaguely challenging whomever it might be, but interestingly, not coming down herself to check on the situation. And I could tell something was up: these were not her full-throated barks that she reserves when people come to her front door. I headed upstairs.

I found our ferocious pup on the bed, tail wagging, but shaking and shivering as I've never seen her before. She was so afraid of these odd voices she heard in her house, she was so very scared. And I would say she was scared $#!tless, but that's not accurate. Instead, it was a dark spot on the bedspread that told me she'd actually been scared pee-less.

Aw, Fergie…

I comforted her, she settled down, she finally approved of the speakerphone, and I set about tidying up and readying the comforter for the dry cleaner's. I've said before, her ferocious growling and barking at strangers and other dogs probably is her way of trying to bluff her way through what is actually scaring her silly. It's sometimes cute how she tries to defend us; it's sometimes embarrassing when she does it to neighbors or contractors coming to the house. But it's pure Fergie, and lumps and all, soggy bedspreads and all, I think we'll keep her.

Happy Birthday Fergie!

When we adopted Fergie in February 2013, we knew she had been a stray for at least some time, so there was no paperwork saying with certainty what her birthday is. They estimated at the time that she was about 17 months old, based on her size and what teeth had come in, so we've used October 1, 2011, as her birthday. That makes her three years old as of yesterday.

Last night we had our "birthday party" for her. She had a "happy birthday" bone-shaped biscuit, which got pretty much devoured instantly. The kids had bought her new toys--a "sandwich" that comes in layers and squeaks, and a...thing, I can't really describe it, other than it's five soft rings on a soft post...kinda looks like the red one's supposed to be a tomato slice? In any event, the birthday girl had a wonderful time the whole rest of the evening, as you can see for yourself.


Before I play with any new toys, I have to honor my Lab roots and SHAKESHAKESHAKE it to make sure it's well and truly dead first!




These are MY toys! You may not have them!



I love love LOVE the squeaker in the middle of my "sandwich"!



I figured out how to get one of the rings off...now what happens if I do THIS?

Happy birthday to the Pums who makes our home an even better place. Many, many happy returns of the day!