(no subject)
Speaking of purchases, I’ve just recently bought a BBQ (oh I’ve been waitin’ all season for a good sale).
So last month I cashed out for Tucker’s Chiropractic appointments and this time it was a toss up between buying a new cell phone, or a BBQ. I’m trying to spread out my spending, and convinced myself that despite reasonable sales, I shouldn’t buy both the phone and the BBQ at the same time. It’s been over a month since I’ve had a phone. But at least I’ve got my grill. ***Happy face***
When we moved in together, Andy had a lot more “stuff” than I did. So I offered to be buying things that we might want or need, or things we don’t already have. This year, we’ve got enough camping stuff to sustain us for a week in the wilderness (not that I’d ever go camping for a whole week) but we now have new tents, stoves, bed, supplies, tarps, and my proudly stocked bin of “camp gear” which contains everything from extra bungee cords to salt and pepper packets, from miscellaneous dining utensils to pre-packaged gourmet coffee with filters and all…
Yes, so far we’ve been camping several times over the past two summers.
I can’t believe I haven’t posted pictures of Tucker going camping…he loves it. (and he’s so well-behaved) The little dog is only 7 months old, but already knows the routine of tent=home, fire=warm, and that friends eat with their food much closer to the ground compared to if they were seated at a table. The nights that are cool (when we camped in the spring) he would crawl inside our sleeping bag and sleep against my torso to keep warm. I’ll try to upload Puppy camping pictures to photobucket and that way I can post them here.
Having our little dog so active in our social life has exposed him to so many things that he’s immune to things other dogs are scared or weary of. Tucker loves other dogs, doesn’t mind sitting by the fire while people 20 feet away are shootin’ off fireworks. He rides the GO train in silence and sleeps in the truck while we travel. Tucker doesn’t care if he’s attached to his tie-out or loose, he’s content to watch other people or gnaw on a bone. He’s our baseball mascot and keeps a very-pregnant Anya company while we’re out on the field.
Tucker makes a horrible guard-dog. Frenchies were initially bred as companion dogs when the pigmy bulldog charmed Victorian ladies.
However, my littleman really surprised me in this department the other day.
This past Saturday, Andy had gotten up early to meet Ange downtown port credit. I had a headache so I was sleeping. It was about 10am when I heard Tucker barking. Frenchies don’t bark. Some can, some can’t, but most just don’t. Tucker only lets out a muffled excuse for a bark when he’s trying to play with an uncooperative canine at the park. So why on earth was he barking like I’ve never hears inside on a Saturday morning?!?
As I’m getting out of bed, I hear a man’s voice and the screen door open.
WTF?
Thankfully I’m in my pj’s and am suddenly wide awake. Tucker’s still barking. Once in the living room I see Bert, whom had thought better of walking in and had shut the screen door. He was as surprised as I was that Tucker wouldn’t let him in.
“Bert, hi” I say, while grabbing Tucker and letting our very good friend in.
“I’ve never heard him bark like that” Bert says.
“I know, me neither!” I agree. Tucker is squirming, so I put him back down. Now he’s excited as hell that Bert is here, his ultimate favorite babysitter.
Bert, (whom is known at his work as Robert) is a wonderful friend of both Andy and myself, and he lives close by.
“So I talked to John…” he starts, referring to my landlord that I had called up and given Bert’s contact info to.
“Oh yeah? What did he say?”
“It went well. We w’….did you just get up??” Bert asks me while pulling Tucker around by one of his squeak toys.
“Yes, but do continue”
“We met in the middle about a price, so it’s looking good about my moving into your basement”
“Sweet!”
Bert is 35, I’d trust the guy with my life, Andy has known him for about 13 years, and he’s been a close friend and important part of our lives for the past two years. When he admitted he didn’t want to move far from his 4 year old daughter when he and his ex-gf separated, I’d kindly mentioned that I have a basement apartment that just so happens to be vacant.
Bert, Andy and I have a lot of respect for each other, and Bert is over all the time anyways. He was deeply upset when Andy told him she had Cancer, we knew he’d take it badly, and had told him he’d best sit down in order to hear recent news.
T’was a good thing he did. I’ll never forget his voice breaking up, saying “no…oh god no…not you” before he completely broke down.
He and Andy play on a mixed league baseball team on Wednesdays. I’m looking forward to having him live downstairs.
He helped us move in, and of course we intend to help him the same, seeing as I have a pickup truck an all.
Well that’s two entries in one day, I should go,
I’ll try to post those pics I mentioned if I have time this week.
Bye all.