I Got a Horse.

I got a horse. We love her so much we let her live inside because we want to be good horse parents. Actually, we even let her get on the couch and snuggle with us. Sometimes when she gets on me and snuggles me I worry that I have internal bleeding. Luckily if I just drink enough wine/beer/tequila I forget that I could be bleeding to death inside from horse snuggles. The only problem with this horse though is that she won't let me ride her. When I get on her and start screaming "YEEEEEHHHAAAWWW!" at the top of my lungs she just stands there, or sits down and sighs. So I thought, maybe "YEEEEEEHHHAAWWWW" is not the right way to get this particular horse moving. I tried out "GET ALONG LITTLE DOGGIES!" and at one point I even burst out into a particularly moving and beautiful version of  "Home on the Range." All to no avail. Finally I realized what the problem was.

I actually got a Great Dane.....not a horse. 

(Also, let's be real here, I didn't ACTUALLY try and ride her. I just pretended. However, I did sing and utter many exclamations of the cowboy nature.)

So in all seriousness folks, this is Cleo.

She's a pure bred Great Dane. She's a rescue dog who can't hear a thing and can't see so well out of one of her beautiful blue eyes. From what I understand deaf Danes come from the breeding of certain same color Danes together. These are the highly sought after colors, the ones people will pay a pretty penny for. White Danes are often culled at birth because to a breeder they are worthless. I still have a lot to learn about why she's deaf, but my general understanding is that breeders are greedy and they don't care if they come out with a deaf puppy. All I know is Cleo is special. She loves everyone and everything. All she wants is a spot to snuggle on the couch and a bone to chew on. I've never met a dog with a personality like hers, and I will be forever grateful that she clumsily stumbled her awkward, giant body into our lives. 

Does my head look big?

The Green Squishy Thing That Almost Killed Me

After two giant cups of coffee, I was sitting at my computer holding my pee for the better part of an hour. I finally decided it was either pee my pants or sprint to the bathroom and hope that my bladder was strong.  I decided on the tricky business of sprinting and holding it at the same time. I jumped up from my chair, raced across my office and into the bathroom without turning on the light. I took two steps inside, my right foot came down on the tile, and SQUISH. I stepped on something gelatinous, and squishy. It's amazing how many thoughts can run through your head in the space of about two terrifying seconds. I imagined I had stepped on some worm-like creature that was now smashed into a blob on the bottom of my foot. I then imagined I had stepped on a baby snake. 

Yes, a baby snake. I know that sounds insane, but it was dark and I stepped on something long and squishy! If you think I'm crazy then you obviously have much more mental fortitude than I do when it comes to squishy things. At this moment I became convinced  there was indeed a squished baby snake on the bottom of my foot, and I'm absolutely positive that my heart stopped beating for a solid minute. (When I say I'm positive it stopped beating, what I really mean is that I completely imagined it stopped beating). I then almost died, because my heart was so obviously not beating. Somehow, in the last moments of my life I managed to flip on the bathroom light and look down at the bottom of my foot, dreading that the baby snake might actually still be alive. I looked at my foot, blinked, and my heart started beating again. Surprise, it was not a baby snake. It was some grass my chihuahua had thrown up. While grass throw up is disgusting, it is not terrifying. That being said, this green, squishy thing did almost kill me. The lights will be on before I enter any room from this day forward. Yep, I've now added stepping on a baby snake to my irrational list of fears. Thanks, green squishy thing.





I did not feel this way about my squishy thing. Also, googling baby snake images made my fear much worse. I deserve a pat on the back for increasing my fear. Good job, self.