It's been mentioned before that Stella and I aren't always on the best of terms. I'm not going into the details here, but abbreviated, it's not really her fault. She sheds, she drools, she needs attention and I have little time to spare. There it is.
However, on my birthday, she gave both Landon and I the best gift ever. She saved our lives. That may be a tad exaggerated, but at the time, I really did think we were in serious danger. Here's the story...
I lay Grant down for a nap, grab Landon and a load of wet towels and head for the clothesline. (And yes, for those of you "city" folk, I do have a clothes line. I like the way line dried clothes smell, so sue me. ) Stella is lagging behind...she moves slowly in the mornings. Landon is on the swingset, and I am minding my own business hanging up towels. Stella is probably 20 yards behind us (Chad's estimations cause I'm so bad at that). I hear a growling noise, and think to myself, "well that's weird...Stella is way back there." Then I see in the nearby shed where we store our lawnmower, a stray dog, hunkered (if that's a real word) down, showing his teeth, and his hair standing up on end. My heart immediately starts pounding.
Landon is 10 feet closer to the dog than I am. I slowly start walking towards Landon, knowing that if we run, he's going to chase us. I get to Landon and pick him up. He's saying something about "mean dogs" that I don't hear all of because I'm trying to figure out what we should do. While holding Landon I climb to the top of his slide and sit, waiting, looking to see if any of our neighbors are out. Not a one of course. Meanwhile, Stella, doing her morning business, hears the growling. She immediately goes into "Stell-th Mode" as I've named it. She gets really low to the ground and is looking around trying to figure out where the intruder is with her old not so sharp ears. I say, "Landon, I think Stella might get into a little fight" and in 10 seconds flat she is in the shed with the intruder. I take off to the house with Landon, worried about Stella. This was a pretty good sized dog...much taller than her in height and probably weighing about the same.
As I stand on the deck with a crying Landon, I grab my cell phone and wonder who I should call.
Chad's at practice. By the time anyone could get here I'm sure it'll be over, but I'm still worried about what kind of shape Stella's gonna be in. Before I can even dial anyone, here they both come out of the shed, fur flying. Stella rolls this dog, who's twice as tall as she is, and he takes off running, twice as fast as she can. By the time she gets to the edge of the yard, he's long gone. No sign of him. And she has not a mark on her! She struts back to the shed, sniffing and I have to drag her to the house.
Needless to say, from this time to the present (it's been a week) instead of my regular "Stella! Get off the rug!" it's been, "Stella, sweetheart, could you please remove your right buttocks from my clean area rug. Thank you, sugar. Would you like a treat?" I think this coming week, I'll go out and get her a gift of gratitude, perhaps a nice bandana or new collar and a special treat...put a party hat on her and sing "For She's a Jolly Good Fellow." If I follow through with this, it will be blog worthy. I won't leave you out of the loop.
The rest of my birthday is pretty blah in comparison to that story. My boys (all three of them) took me shopping for some athletic work out capris. I got a pair of Under Armor ones that are awesome which cost more than any pair of jeans I own, and a pair of Adidas ones that will place a close second. I also will (sometime this week) be ordering a new sewing machine that will be able to stitch monograms/names/whatever on my taggies...AWESOME! We went to dinner with my Kutscher family at Outback and then had cake and ice cream. Here's me and the kiddos with my cake.
And as a side note, I have to say, my little niece Abby made me feel like a million bucks, just a few days past my birthday. Kelly told me she was flipping through a US Weekly and started saying, "Aunt Megan! Aunt Megan!" I was holding my breath, praying she wasn't pointing at Rosie O'Donnel or Lady Gaga, when Kelly told me it was Kate Hudson. Oh, Abigail. How your Aunt Megan loves you! I think this may have earned you a special not for any ocassion gift.
However, on my birthday, she gave both Landon and I the best gift ever. She saved our lives. That may be a tad exaggerated, but at the time, I really did think we were in serious danger. Here's the story...
I lay Grant down for a nap, grab Landon and a load of wet towels and head for the clothesline. (And yes, for those of you "city" folk, I do have a clothes line. I like the way line dried clothes smell, so sue me. ) Stella is lagging behind...she moves slowly in the mornings. Landon is on the swingset, and I am minding my own business hanging up towels. Stella is probably 20 yards behind us (Chad's estimations cause I'm so bad at that). I hear a growling noise, and think to myself, "well that's weird...Stella is way back there." Then I see in the nearby shed where we store our lawnmower, a stray dog, hunkered (if that's a real word) down, showing his teeth, and his hair standing up on end. My heart immediately starts pounding.
Landon is 10 feet closer to the dog than I am. I slowly start walking towards Landon, knowing that if we run, he's going to chase us. I get to Landon and pick him up. He's saying something about "mean dogs" that I don't hear all of because I'm trying to figure out what we should do. While holding Landon I climb to the top of his slide and sit, waiting, looking to see if any of our neighbors are out. Not a one of course. Meanwhile, Stella, doing her morning business, hears the growling. She immediately goes into "Stell-th Mode" as I've named it. She gets really low to the ground and is looking around trying to figure out where the intruder is with her old not so sharp ears. I say, "Landon, I think Stella might get into a little fight" and in 10 seconds flat she is in the shed with the intruder. I take off to the house with Landon, worried about Stella. This was a pretty good sized dog...much taller than her in height and probably weighing about the same.
As I stand on the deck with a crying Landon, I grab my cell phone and wonder who I should call.
Chad's at practice. By the time anyone could get here I'm sure it'll be over, but I'm still worried about what kind of shape Stella's gonna be in. Before I can even dial anyone, here they both come out of the shed, fur flying. Stella rolls this dog, who's twice as tall as she is, and he takes off running, twice as fast as she can. By the time she gets to the edge of the yard, he's long gone. No sign of him. And she has not a mark on her! She struts back to the shed, sniffing and I have to drag her to the house.Needless to say, from this time to the present (it's been a week) instead of my regular "Stella! Get off the rug!" it's been, "Stella, sweetheart, could you please remove your right buttocks from my clean area rug. Thank you, sugar. Would you like a treat?" I think this coming week, I'll go out and get her a gift of gratitude, perhaps a nice bandana or new collar and a special treat...put a party hat on her and sing "For She's a Jolly Good Fellow." If I follow through with this, it will be blog worthy. I won't leave you out of the loop.
The rest of my birthday is pretty blah in comparison to that story. My boys (all three of them) took me shopping for some athletic work out capris. I got a pair of Under Armor ones that are awesome which cost more than any pair of jeans I own, and a pair of Adidas ones that will place a close second. I also will (sometime this week) be ordering a new sewing machine that will be able to stitch monograms/names/whatever on my taggies...AWESOME! We went to dinner with my Kutscher family at Outback and then had cake and ice cream. Here's me and the kiddos with my cake.
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