My puppy

This is my puppy Senie (her name is short for Senorita).

No, she is not the Taco Bell dog, and no we didn't get her because we saw the commercials and fell in love with Chihuahua's - and *sarcastic NO* I've never heard any of those comments, nor have I ever been asked those questions before. Geez. (We are not like the families who bought Dalmatians after Disney's lovely movies, only to abandon them once realizing they weren't cartoons and had real needs. Sorry if you're a member of one of those families. Sorta).

One time, I was picking my Mum up from the local GO station, and had Senie with me. While we were parked, I picked her up and let her sit in my lap (she's totally a people watcher). She stood on her hind legs with her front paws on the steering wheel (too cute - sadly I don't have a picture of that) and started just looking around. It was a warmer spring-like day, so I had the windows open, and some 'skater-type' dude came past the car and leaned in saying "Yo quiero Taco Bell, Dude" - I rolled my eyes, and giggled, and Senie *gasp* barked.

Anyway, I suppose she's not really a puppy anymore, is she?

We have had Chihuahuas (they are supposed to be non-allergenic. The scientists who decided this were on crack) since before I was born, and this one since just before I turned 14. Meaning she herself is 13. Did I do that math right? If you've read my last post, you'll note that I am SO not math inclined. Anyway, she's either 13 or 14. Crap.

Ah well. The point of this post is not to give a disertation on my family and their pet buying tendencies/history, nor my lack of mathematician qualities. I (ack - just discovered there are quick keys for posting blogs!) am supposed to be rambling about my not-so-puppy!

As you can probably tell from the pictures, she is going blind. What you can't tell is that she is also going deaf (I hope the blindness isn't from the over zealous amount of pictures I take of her. That in and of itself is a long story about another puppy that got hit by a car - stupid speeding driver - that we didn't have many pictures of. So of course, I go overboard with the next one. But I think that's ok.).

The reason for this post is my interrupted afternoon nap.

No, I am not a toddler requiring copious amounts of sleep (though I did spend the better part of the early afternoon with more babies and toddlers in one room than I ever have in my life - perhaps inspiring the nap - happy first birthday, Madeline!!). I am a twenty-something that can't sleep, so when my body finally decides to feel like sleeping, and it's a Saturday, and I'm not at my desk, who am I to argue??

So, I finally settle in, and get all comfy under my Doyna (I don't really know how to spell that - but it means duvet in Norwegian... long family story - maybe I'll tell it later. Also, I think the 'o' in doyna should have a funny cross thru it) and start to doze. I was dreaming about my improv class, and somehow that warped into something about sewing with the people from improv class. I should mention here that I have really weird dreams. When I dream. But I digress again. (Sorry for rambling).

All of a sudden, miss Senie starts barking. Ad nauseum. Usually, she does a few wee barks, then settles back down. So today I was hoping for one of those spurts, because otherwise I have to go get her, and pet her to get her to stop barking. Because remember, she's deaf, and can't hear me calling her.

Unfortunately, about five minutes later (I was really comfy, ok??) she is still barking. And still can't hear me. Duh. I hit the wall, hoping for vibrations to pull her away from the front door - but to no avail (I was incredibly comfy!!). I had to unwrap myself from my cocoon and go upstairs and rescue her from her nemesis: the front door, and the imaginary bad guys on the other side, so that she would stop. When I finally got her settled on her bed, she started barking again. I actually had to open the front door so she could 'see' that there wasn't any thing on the front porch for her to be barking at. I know she can't see much, but it seemed to have convinced her, because she finally did scratch around and lay herself back down. But my sleep was interrupted, and after kinda settling in again, only crazy dreams that kept waking me up kept happening. And I am now tired. Still tired. Whatever. :)

I should mention here that I shouldn't really complain about the afternoon barking, though, because she has done it at 2am before, and I didn't get back to sleep that night. But the culprit was real that time - in the form of an oversized raccoon, who was walking the width of our balcony out back. As he moved away from the house, Senie would bark at him. He would move closer and closer along the railing, causing Senie to bark even more, and then suddenly disappear when he got too close to the house. Her barking would slow down slightly, until he decided he wanted to walk the railing again to get her all riled up... again. I was not a happy camper that night, and I may have had very bad thoughts about pushing the bloody raccoon off of our balcony. But that would be animal cruelty, and I don't agree with that. And I'm afraid of raccoons.

I also wonder if poor Senie barks her afternoons away when we are not home. I'm surprised she hasn't barked her barker raw yet.

Again, sorry for the ramble :)

Cheers!