So, back to my 3-week trip to Colorado, kids and dogs in tow, sans hubby.? (Yes, I realize, I must be certifiable.? Then again, if you’ve read much of this blog ((or even one other post)) you’re probably already familiar with that neurotic and crazy? place I like to call my brain.)

You may know this already—I think most sane folks do.? But just in case you don’t, let me just state for the record—taking a ten hour road trip following a lure coursing weekend with two kids and six dogs, from Utah to Colorado?? Not the brightest idea.? To be honest, the kids did pretty well (except for maybe the time when Connor dumped his water on Fergie’s head).? But I certainly don’t think any of us would classify it as a treat.

Did I mention yet that? my 7-month old daughter decided to start crawling and standing right before we left?? How very thoughtful of her.? Especially in light of the fact that my parent’s house contains possibly the steepest staircase in all of the Western hemisphere.? And it goes down to the basement.? ? Also, for reasons unknown to me, their kitchen chairs have rollers on them.? Yes, rollers.? It should be illegal.? And their coffee table?? Bi-level and glass topped—just the right height for a baby tunnel.? All of this, of course, made for great fun.? I think Finley had a bruise on her forehead within milliseconds of our arrival.

And then there were the dogs.? All five or six of them, depending on the day.? And that’s not counting the other? four or five at my aunt’s house.? Hounds galore.? Yes, they did have their own “dog room”, which is actually about ten times? larger than any of the human guest rooms (I see where the humans figure in to my parents’ equation), complete with nice white pillars, a mirror (those Ridgebacks are quite vain, you know), carpeting, and of course, a slider and French doors.

It was? great that the dogs could be sequestered to their own space when the kids were sleeping. Except, during this trip, I learned something.? I learned that we have some of the nicest puppy owners ever.? Why?? Because they’ve never once to complained to us about Leo, who just happens to be Fergie’s liver nosed litter mate.? And let me tell you a little something about Leo.?  He is, without? doubt, the noisiest Ridgeback on the face of the earth. And I’ve lived with his mom Sunni, so I know about noisy Ridgebacks. You see, when Leo wakes up, Leo lets you know. When Leo wants outside, he lets you know.? Of course, if Leo is outside, he usually wants inside. And yep, he lets you know that, too.  He lets you know when it’s breakfast time, he lets you know when it’s dinner time.  And when there’s nothing else going on? Well, Leo just likes to let you know he’s alive. All I can say is, thank god my mom bought some white noise-makers for our rooms.  My kids are pretty good sleepers, but heck, it’s challenging for even good sleepers to snooze when they’re being serenaded in the morning by the Happy Hound.

Leo is lucky that, like the Ferganator, he’s also about the sweetest Ridgeback on the face of the earth.  Plus, he’s quite the kennel decorator. And so generous with his skills–not only would he pull his own cover into his crate, but often, the covers of the dogs on either side of him as well. I’m sure Skye and Sunni were thrilled.

I have to admit, the five acre backyard was great for my son.? Although I’m not sure my mom was super jazzed about the million or so pine cones and rocks he collected and arranged on her dining table.? Or the fact that he liked to roll in the dirt.? In his pajamas.

And of course, there was the dog show weekend, thrown in to make things even more exciting. I was trying to juggle the four dogs I was showing, help make sure the other three my aunt was showing were okay, call my dad to check on the kids, and still manage to squeeze in a few minutes to use the old breast pump once in awhile (thank you , Patty, for the use of your motor-home–you’re a lifesaver!) And people wonder why I don’t get to many dog events any more—sheesh.

At the end of a long day, there’s nothing like having a quiet, undisturbed moment on the couch.?

Um, I meant alone?? Come on now—am I really expected to work under these conditions?

I give up.? Believe it or not, I was here first, and somebody just couldn’t resist pushing? her way to the toasty spot behind me.

After awhile, Fergie decides to go encroach on hubby’s space.? Now maybe I can get some work done!

Okay, so I know I’m constantly? harping? on how rotten Fergie is.? I mean, let’s face it—she’s not the ideal dog for somebody who prizes their personal possessions (which obviously isn’t the case around here—-apparently, folks that cherish their stuff tend not to? spew it throughout the house like so much barf at a frat party).?

Fergie gets away with all kinds of houndfoolery, though, because she’s such a sweet pumpkin underneath all the mischievousness.? In fact, my hubby and I talk quite a bit about how tolerant both of our girls are, especially with all the grubby little grasping? (human) kid paws? around here.?

A quick example—I still remember walking around the corner of our house one day to see blood splattered all over our blond hardwood floors.? It seriously looked like somebody had opened a butcher shop.? In our family room.?

Actually, it was just my son, playing a little game of doggy barber.? He was brandishing a pair of scissors, and Fergie was brandishing a gash on her ear, with blood spraying every time she moved.? And yet she didn’t make a peep, and hadn’t even left the room—she just stood there, waiting patiently by my son, with a look on her face that said, “Can we pleaseplay something else now?”? (Yes, my husband and I are idiots–we left the scissors in a toddler? accessible drawer, but seriously, our son had never ever looked at them twice.? Until we cut his hair one day, and apparently, he decided Fergie needed a hair cut too.? And no, I don’t think he has a future in the dog grooming business—folks tend to like their dogs to leave with as many appendages as they came with.)

So, honestly, we couldn’t ask for two dogs that are better with our children.? Fergie loves kids, and Skye is impressively tolerant.?

And that brings me to the Queen of Tolerance—Fergie and Skye’s Grandmama Hound, Shani.? If ever there was a Ridgeback who would? accept virtually any indignity with nary a peep, it was Shani. (Although, I will say, she had perfected the patented “Are you kidding me?” Ridgeback look.? And she could pull out the woebegone? expression with ease, too—guaranteed to make even the hardest of hearts toss her a treat.)

Below are some examples of Shani suffering through our silly human idiosyncrasies (all the while thinking, “This is so beneath my dignity”).? She was, after all, the ultimate princess.

? Easily one of? Shani’s most impressive feats was her begrudging tolerance of my husband’s? peculiar dog-related? amusements, all of which I’m sure she found quite pedestrian.

Exhibit A:? Hubby flying airplanes on a two-year old Shani.? (And he wonders why she used to scoot hin out of bed in the middle of the night).

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Exhibit B:? Another of my hubby’s favorites, which I liked to call “Rock-A-Bye Hound”.? ? This, of? course,? was when he wasn’t shouting “Death comes from above, hound dog!” and bombing her with various items (dirty undies being his favorite) from the upstairs loft while she was lounging? on? the couch downstairs.? (Again–can you blame her for chowing through a pair of his ostrich-skin cowboy boots, or his cordless phone?)

(And yes, perhaps now we all? have some good insight as to why his rottweiler is so troubled.)

Just? a couple? of Shani’s many Halloween costumes.? We also took her out to the Chicago bars in costume one year, much to her chagrin.?

Exhibit C:? ? “This costume was bad enough without the added indignity of stockings dangling rom my ears, Mom!”

Exhibit D:? And in this one, Shani’s dressed up as a retired show-girl.? Get it?? Get it?? Okay, so I’m easily amused.? (And in case you’re wondering, that bun in the oven is my son, Connor).

Exhibit E:? ? Yep, busted—I’m one of those put-antlers-on-your-dog-and-laugh kind of girls.

Shani also showed impressive tolerance for all kinds of interlopers, of both the canine and human variety.? ?

Exhibit F:? Shani “sharing” her bone with the intimidatingly huge rottweiler (who honestly didn’t ever grow much bigger, just more defective).

Exhibit G:? “Oh no, don’t eat me, you gi-normous Rottweiler, you!”

Exhibit H:? Okay, so I actually think this was less like tolerance, and more like love at first sight.? But I? adore this photo of Shani and my old adopted dog, Riley, so I had to include it.

Exhibit I:? Shani, unsuccessfully attempting to take a little afternoon snooze.

Exhibit J:? “I suppose I can share the couch, but really, Mom—-must I put up with the butt-grabbing?”

After reviewing these photos, I’m no longer surprised that Shani used to go on a little destructo chewfest a few times a year.? Let’s face it—some Ridgebacks may be tolerant, but they all know how to get even.

Never leave a Ridgeback puppy unattended with a used fire pit for longer than 10 seconds, lest you end up with your patio looking like this:

Doesn’t? Fergie look proud? of herself?? Note the golf club—how random is that?? I’m not entirely? certain how golf figures in with fire pits, but apparently my husband is.? Oh wait— so that’s the club he was in frantic search of all day Saturday!? And here I thought he said the Dolph club—no wonder he looked at me strangely when I hummed the Rocky theme.

A close-up of the disaster zone.? The scariest part?? It’s looked like that for two weeks already.? And I don’t see us getting to it anytime soon.? Oh, the joys of being a procrastinator.

Skye, the Princess,? is disgusted with the mess.

So what if I’m? writing about? a Christmas incident? in the? middle of? January.? I’ve already admitted I’m a procrastinator, right?

Anyway—pretend it’s the morning of Christmas Eve.? My mom and dad are in town, and my sister and her boyfriend are getting ready to come over.? For once, I’ve actually taken my time to really place the ornaments nicely and make the tree look good, instead of just throwing them up there willy nilly.

My husband is downstairs in the living room/play room? (where the tree is), with my 4 yr old son and my 3 month old daughter.? I’m getting ready to take Fergie, our energetic 14 month old Ridgeback puppy, outside from her kennel upstairs.? Since the baby is on the floor and I don’t want her to be pulverized just yet, I make the rational decision to get a leash for Fergie.? Of course, I can’t locate a collar, and being that I’m 1) unorganized, and know it will take me a good 15 minutes to locate one in the disaster area we call home and 2) am too lazy to spend said 15 minutes in search of one, I make the less rational decision to just slip the metal clip through the hand hole on the leash and form a make-shift collar.?

Do I know this a bad idea?? Certainly.? Does it stop me?? Unfortunately, no.

As you might predict, halfway down the stairs, Fergie is pulling so hard that I let go of the leash.? What you might not have predicted in a million years, though, is that the little metal clip bounces off our wood floor, ricochets, and not only lands on the Christmas tree but gets completely snagged there.?

Fergie, is, as usual, completely oblivious, and rushes around the corner.? I watch in horror as the Christmas tree follows her, falling completely over and narrowly missing her, my husband, and my baby. Ornaments go airborne and fly to all corners of the room, along with a plethora of pine needles.? And? there’s Fergie, still attached, who? could care less that she is now a giant make-shift tree ornament, and continues to wiggle with excitement, further tangling her leash.

Unbelievably, only one ornament broke.? It was, of course,? the most expensive ornament on the tree, a Radko collectable, but in light of what could have happened, I guess I can’t complain too much.? (The fact that it was also an ornament featuring Santa, the earth, and animals, proceeds of which benefited an environmental group, makes me think it was bad karma for us buying a dead tree to begin with, but that’s another story…..)

The tree, alas, never quite looked the same afterwards.? And that is why you should just slop those ornaments on your tree when you live with Ridgebacks.