Posts Tagged With: House of Farts

Second Fiddle

Having an infant in the house has brought forth a lot of changes. Out of everyone at Casa del Fartos, I’d say that as a mom, I’ve naturally had my world turned upside down more than anyone else. Baby cries? Everyone hands a crying baby to Mom. Baby sick? Mom is the one up with her all night, rocking her. Baby not going to sleep after being rocked for an hour? I’m the one sleeping in the rocking chair with her, as she gleefully whispers “Ahhh! Ahhh!” and plays with my face at 3AM. This is the definition of a sleepover when you’re 5 months old.

My husband and Mack would agree with me: Hubs, because admitting that I have it hardest is still easier than having to get up every night to feed the baby and Mack…..well, it’s not that he agrees, it’s just things really haven’t changed much for him. He laid around the house farting before the baby and continues to lay around the house farting now. “Oh, you had a baby? Right on. (ppppffftt).”

Peterbilt, however, would argue that his quality of life has gone down the shitter now that the baby absorbs our time, energy and attention.

Like most couples, you get a dog because you like dogs, you fully intend to take care of a dog and it’s good training for when you have kids, with all of the poo and vomit and eating of the vomit……wait……

And like most couples, we knew that getting a dog would mean that one day, this dog would take a backseat to future babies and kids. After all, if everyone who bought a dog didn’t have kids in fear of hurting their dog’s feelings, the human race would pretty much be wrapping shit up in a matter of generations. You just expect your dog will adjust to it eventually and just be happy with the larger family. Except that we picked out a Peterbilt, the most emo of all bulldogs.

It tugs at my conscience to see this bored, mopey looking bulldog sulking on our couch because now I only speak to him when I’m whisper-yelling “NO BARKING! BABY IS SLEEPING!” at him, usually followed up by me grumbling his eternal damnation when I hear the baby is awake in her crib.

So my days now go something like this: I get home from work and my husband is already there with Baby Peanut. I walk in the door, both bulldogs come to greet me. Then, Peter tears ass to his basket of toys, usually pulling out a rope to play with, and runs to me to play with him. This has always been this way; something about mom coming home that makes this dog’s heart sing.

I grab onto his toy and we play tug of war and catch a few times. Then Hubs comes at me holding out a wiggly baby, who’s reaching out for me. I drop the dog toy, take the baby, and Peter is left standing there with a look on his face that screams, “God DAMMIT!”

Playtime isn’t the only facet of Peter’s life that has taken a proverbial dump. Even his walks have turned to suck. Although I have now mastered walking with a baby stroller and a 90 lb clown on four legs, Peterbilt really wants to walk on wooded paths and terrain that isn’t easily navigable with a stroller. So he’s left to just doing that same old boring walk around the block at a snail’s pace with me and the stroller.

At home, when I’m on the floor trying to entertain an infant with one hand and playing with my iPhone in the other, I will catch Peter out of the corner of my eye, gloomily looking over, wishing he could play with his Mom. After all, I was his Mom first. Stupid baby and her awesome toys.

Meanwhile, baby is really getting good at her army crawl and is so excited to see and touch everything in sight, including the bulldogs. She’s their biggest fan.

Mack conflicted by his love for Peanut and his hate of having his paws touched.

Mack conflicted by his love for Peanut and his hate of having his paws touched.

While Mack is more than willing to let the baby pull at his ears and grab at his face (which I can tell you from experience, is quite painful), Peter will grumble and walk away when the baby touches his face, collapsing into his nearby dog bed with a heavy sigh.

Going through my pictures the other day, I was surprised at the amount of Peterbilt photobombs. For a dog who used to just HATE it when I took pictures of him, he now photobombs baby pictures in an attempt to get any kind of attention. “Look at me, everybody! I’m that cute, precocious bulldog with all of the health problems, remember? I eat left shoes? What did I get into now, right?!?!” Poor guy.

See the baby legs in the background?

See the baby legs in the background?

The following night, after two glasses of wine, I sat outside in a lawn chair despairing over Peterbilt’s quality of life. “What happens if he never grows to like Peanut? What about when we have more kids and even less time on our hands? Will we ever be able to provide this dog with the proper exercise, love and attention that he needs? Is this just temporary? God, I’m such a dick.” I walked over to Peterbilt, laying on his dog bed and gave him a hug. He grunted.

The next morning, the in-laws showed up to take our Peanut and spend a day doting on her with grandparenty love at their house. When I came home from work that afternoon, I was the first one home, for once. I fed the bulldogs, let them out and soon after Hubs showed up.

In laws texted me apologizing that they were going to be an hour late dropping Peanut off. I replied “DON’T APOLOGIZE.” Do you have any idea how much stuff I got done??!?! Do you know how hard it is to vacuum your house when you have a baby? There’s never a good time for that when the baby’s around.

Once they did arrive, they brought in Peanut in in her car seat, dropped her off in our kitchen, waved goodbye and took off right away. Peterbilt ran right over to Peanut, slobbered her face with kisses and ran to his toy basket to get that same rope. There he went, running all over the house, leaping and spinning. He ran to me with the rope in his mouth, stopped and went into a play bow.

“Well, shit.” I thought. So it wasn’t me coming home that made him happy after all. What made him happy was the pack being complete and totally accounted for. Peanut was the last member to arrive home and now that everyone was here, it was time to celebrate and play.

I did Peterbilt one better and took him outside in the backyard to play frisbee until he collapsed in exhaustion the cool, green grass. That is all any dog wants: to be exhausted.

I learned that even though Peterbilt still isn’t crazy about the change in our family dynamics, he still loves lil’ Peanut. It’s going to take some extra work (and caffeine) on my end to make sure Peter gets his time everyday. Hopefully, Peanut and Peterbilt will grow to be good friends.

 

Categories: Babies, Bulldogs, Dogs, Farts, Funny, Pets | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Double Trouble

2014 has been the year of change at House of Farts.

Ladies and gentlemen, after 4 long and work-intensive years, Mack and Peterbilt have decided to bury the hatchet and have agreed to coexist (somewhat) peacefully on the same level/room/area of the house. That’s right, no more keeping the bulldogs separated within the house.

This was decided recently by Mack. The older and more deaf Mack gets (and the more visibly pregnant I get) Mack is finding it harder and harder to leave my side. “Ok, Ok, I concede”, Mack told me one afternoon about 2 months ago. “I’ll acknowledge Peterbilt as my son. Now let’s all lay on the area rug and lick our paws.”

Peterbilt, less than enthused about now having to split our attention with his dickhead dad, agreed to treat his dad’s now constant presence with respect.

Yay! Right?? We can have a normal-ish family again! Eh, Yes and no. As much as we are happy to have everyone get along, having 170 lbs of bulldog to deal with versus 85 lbs at a time, is a lot of work!

Over the last several weeks, Hubs and I have noticed that there are as many PROS as CONS to our new living situation.

PRO:

1.) Less Shrieking.

Having both dogs in the kitchen as I make dinner is a lot quieter than having Peterbilt in the kitchen and Mack in the finished basement, shrieking with every pang of his broken heart at his exclusion. Now both bulldogs can stand by my feet and hold their breath as I chop carrots, hoping to God that one slips off the counter and falls to the floor.

CON:

1.) Higher fart content

Having both bulldogs in close proximity means more fart air to regular air, in parts per million. Tonight, we will be serving Dijon Chicken and baby carrots with hint of fart. Just dab some Vicks under your nose, dear, It’ll be alright.

 

"We heard there were carrots..."

“We heard there were carrots…”

PRO:

2.) Bigger fan base.

Now instead of one bulldog totally devoted to following me and watching my every move, I have two. The bulldogs totally give my location away every time, no matter where I am in the house. Are the bulldogs totally quiet? That means they’re laying with me on the bed sleeping. Do you hear thunderous noises? That’s the bulldogs following (trampling) me as i go downstairs to put in another load of laundry? Two bulldogs glumly laying outside the shut bathroom door? Well, you know I’m doing then. Painting my nails. Because ladies don’t poop.

CON:

If I don’t close the bathroom door all of the way, it means now two heads are poking inside to check on me instead of just one. I get very little privacy.

The good old days of only only bulldog head.

The good old days of only only bulldog head.

 

They’ve already figured out that they have Hubs and I evenly matched with a 2:2 ratio and have used this to their advantage already, using teamwork to knock a bag of dog treats off the table and to take out a 40 lb bag of kibble, even sharing the spoils. And our bedroom has been converted into “Bulldog HQ”. They’ve taken over that room as their area of choice for gnawing on their bones, Kongs and other toys. We kick twice as many dog possessions of our of bed now and It is almost guaranteed I will stub my toe on a half-chewed up antler on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

 

We love it and are daunted by it at the same time. With the new workload, it makes me wonder how we will ever fit in time to take care of a newborn, but I guess that will all work itself out somehow.

 

In the meantime, Hubs and I thank God that he’s given us what we’ve asked for, for so long: a loving, little bulldog family. At least, that’s what we try to repeat in our heads while cleaning up 40 lbs of kibble and drool off of the floor.

Categories: Babies, Being Married, Bulldogs, Crappy Adulthood Problems, Dogs, Farts, Funny, Pets, Potty Humor, Pregnancy | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Mack’s Staycation

It may seem that Mack has it real easy, but if you ask him, he’d say that he gets just as burnt out as you or me. I mean c’mon….you sleep 8 hours, get up, woof down your food, shit, climb back up onto your couch and sleep 8 more hours, get up again, woof down your food, shit, shriek for an hour or two, chew on a toy, grumble through a walk around the block and climb back up onto your couch and sleep for 8 hours.

Modern Bulldog Life. It’s stressful.

Mack appreciates an occasional escape from the daily rigors of being a dead-beat father to Peterbilt. And one of his favorite places to stay is at my in-laws house.

As soon as the last mound of snow melted, my in-laws showed up on our doorstep, just in from Arizona, ready to spend the next 6 months in their Minnesota home. Within minutes of their arrival, they had already asked to dog-sit Mackie for a few days. Here’s how that conversation went:

In-Laws: “Hey guys! Good to see you! Long time no see!’

Us: “Good to see you guys, too! How was–”

-and then they rush over to Mack to say hi.

So on Sunday, my husband dropped Mackie off at his parents (or Mack’s grandparents) house so Mack could chill with them for a few days. As always, Mack could care less about you when you turn to leave. The minute he’s at his grandparent’s house, you’re now chopped liver. Not even so much as a good-bye glance when you head out the door. He’s already on to bigger and better things.

I like to think that to Mack, going to his grandparents house is a lot like a taking a weekend trip to a beach or some other relaxing place. I like to think that if there were ever a travel a brochure about staying at my in-laws that would be intended for a target audience of old, crotchety bulldogs, it would like a little like this. Enjoy:

travelbr1 travelbr2

travelbr3

After a few days, I decided that the in-laws were probably tired of being endlessly berated by a 4-legged creature.

Even though Mack loves his grandma and grandpa, Mack was sure happy to see me yesterday when I came to pick him up.

I’ve never received such a welcome. From the dog who’s typical first reaction to when I come home for the day is to shoot me a look and walk off in the opposite direction, I got the full 5-star treatment. Full-on nub-wagging, twirling, marching of the paws. Ears pinned and everything.The grandparents had to restrain him every time I went out to the Jeep to load up his stuff. By the time I was ready to load Mack up, he was running at full speed towards me, which is something that Mack reserves for only special occasions.

“Get me out of here!! These people never sleep! They’re always home!!!”, Mack seemed to say.

Oh, did I forget to mention that my in-laws have more energy, more plans and have bigger social circles that we do?

I suspect Mack had his fill of constant company, bright, sun-filled rooms and not being allowed on any couches, whatsoever. Because what kind of shit is that?!?!

Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you got, til it’s gone?

Mack may shriek when left by himself in his downstairs apartment, but that room also comes with his very own, scrubby-ass couch that he gets to lounge around on.

He may be left alone all day long while we’re at work, but our finished basement is ideal for sleeping: always dark, cool, quiet and comfortable.

Our ice cubes may be inferior, but we are fully stocked with dog treats.

Peterbilt may be totally annoying, but Peterbilt is totally annoying. I got nothing on that one.

Mack, feeling very happy about being at home and very sleep deprived, didn’t hesitate climb onto his ratty old couch and fall asleep when he got home.

sleepy

“Oh, couch. How i’ve missed you”

Categories: Bulldogs, Dogs, Funny, Pets | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

God Made a Peterbilt

God Made A Peterbilt

And one day God was bored and in need of entertainment. As he looked down on his wide eyed children, he spotted a couple named Justin and Sarah. God said to his angels “You guys wanna see something funny?” So God made a Peterbilt.

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God said: “Things are going too well for these two. They haven’t enough hardship in their lives. I need a creature willing to wake up them up at 3 AM because his Kong stuck under a couch, 20140502-140841.jpgpee on their hardwood floors, sleep all day and wake up and bark at the neighbors having a nice quiet dinner in their own house across the street. Then stay up until midnight chewing on the loudest, most annoying squeak toy he can find.” So God made a Peterbilt.

God said:

“I need a being willing to eat Justin and Sarah’s shoes, shit the remnants out days later, then eat said remnants, then vomit those double-digested remnants up on the only patch of carpet in the house. I need a dog who can break wind without a first care or a second thought, right into the faces of his owners as they scratch his rump.

A dog sturdy enough to bulldoze a kitchen table and walk away without a scratch, but flimsy enough to tear his ACL slipping off of an icy curb. Who can make his owners look like dicks when he picks a fight with the loveable Labrador at the dog park, but who runs away frightened from the 10 lb pug. A creature so foul, that no matter how well you shampoo him, or what brand of shampoo you use, or how many dead birds you stop him from rolling in, will still smell like low tide at a south Jersey beach”

So God made a Peterbilt.

God said:

“I need a creature with the strength and ability to pull sleds and find bombs,

yet instead chooses to to hump babies and dig holes in the backyard.

An animal who would give his right testicle to spend all day on his owners’ bed, dragging his filth, vermin and chew toys into the blankets, rolling around, and fall asleep smack dab in the middle of the bed come nightfall”

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So God made a Peterbilt.

Now, God knew that he would have to make this Peterbilt very cute in order for this to continue on.

A dog who could look so sorry and submissive that it would pluck at the heartstrings of this owners. A dog who would use this face to his advantage, time and time again.

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A dog who would occasionally be snuggly, come when he was called, make up funny faces and dances on a whim and who’s hypervigiliant watchdog mindset would pay off from time to time.

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A dog who despite getting his ass beat just about everyday, would wag his nub-tail at the first sign of his owners pulling in the driveway…..and the nub-wag turning into squealing and leaps of joy

when Justin and Sarah say — “let’s go for a ride in the car”.

So God made a Peterbilt.

20140502-140647.jpg

Based on the poem “God Made a Dog”, which was based off of the poem, “God Made a Farmer” by Paul Harvey

 

 

 

 

Categories: Bulldogs, Dogs, Funny, Pets, Potty Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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