Welcome to my blog. It has become therapy for me and I hope you laugh and cry when reading it. Why cry? Because that is what I want to do on a daily basis because I am either laughing hysterically or becuase I don't know what else to do and murder is still illegal! Enjoy!

Friday, October 1, 2010


Duke. I am guessing that some of you are wondering who Duke is. Duke Jupiter? Nope. Duke Ellington? Nada. Duke University? Try again. The Genesis album Duke? Sadly, no.
So, who is Duke? Duke is the new dog.
What? New dog? You are probably thinking that we are totally off our rockers - even more so than usual. Dog!?!?! Yes, we already have two dogs and a cat (and two kids). But Timmy really wanted Duke. REALLY wanted Duke. He promised to take care of him and hug him and love him . . . I wanted to call him George. He said that he would feed Duke - they already feed the dogs as part of their allowance so that part I knew was true. He even got Duke a leash!! What about making sure Duke got exercise? Timmy said he would do it. What about cleaning up after Duke and watching him? He SWORE he would. He promised. I believed him.
Why on God's green (and soggy) earth did I believe him? I will say that he did run around and play with Duke - a lot for the first few days. Andrew even played with Duke.
But guess who Duke slept with at night? Us. Why? "Mom - Duke HAS to sleep with you - he kept me up alllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll night barking and whining!" (picture it with slumped shoulders, hands dragging down to the floor, and exasperated and annoyed voice)
I shouldn't have been surprised - I knew it would happen. Who listens to a five year old? 
Things went well for a few days . . . . .

Then it happened. Timmy came down with very sad eyes and the corners of his mouth touching his shoulders. Duke was hurt. 
That was an understatement. Duke was beyond hurt - there was no help for Duke. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Duke back together again. 

Duke had popped. 
Whoa. Back the bus up! POPPED!?!?!
Duke was a balloon. Yes, a balloon. A dog balloon. No - not a balloon shaped like a dog (that would make WAY too much sense for this family). Duke was a plain old balloon that Timmy blew up and tied a ribbon around. Go ahead, shake your head. Laugh. Do the dog head tilt. We did.
We don't know why - we didn't ask because it's pointless.

Don't worry about Timmy though - his grief lasted a whopping 3.5 seconds and then he was asking me for another balloon. Then we spent a few hours trying to think of a new name. I was still pushing for George. Timmy came up with the name - Duke!

(seriously - I can't make this stuff up!)

Timmy and Duke, Sr. in happier days