Archive for the 'joz = crazy doggie lady / terror for fishies' Category

Jackie Brown gets a Christmas sweater!

Just in time for the c-c-c-cold LA weather! (Seriously, it’ll be down to the 30s at night here all week!)


My Bro cracks me up (and grosses me out)

This was my brother’s status message:

Newly discovered superpower: Ability to make babies laugh so hard they puke.

I was curious, so I IMed him:
me: Did you make S puke?

Bro: ya he spit up on the floor

Bro: then his dogs tried to eat it =/


Gross! That’s what brothers are for, right?

I spoke too soon

I guess that fishie reign of terror thing isn’t over yet.

I killed one of the bettas (our red one) when I changed his water.


I think I’m in love.

I bet these little ones are already gone.


But [swoon!] I’m in love!

pup2.jpg “Look at my belly! It’s nice and round and snuggle-able!”

pup3.jpg “I’m cute and I know it. Take me home with you. Now.”

pup4.jpg “Check out my awesome paws. I’ll grow to be a big, strappin’ dog.”

pup5.jpg “Someday they’ll call me Bowser, Hound of the Wild.”

pup6.jpg “I call this look ‘Blue Steel.'”

pup7.jpg Synchronized Munching

pup8.jpg DOG PILE!!!
(Thanks to Mike for the last few captions.)

Check out the # below if you’re around L.A. and want to adopt one.

UPDATE: The pups have all found homes already!

The story of the pups below…
Continue reading ‘I think I’m in love.’

I was a good fish mom

Yes, this is SUPPOSED to be blurry. It’s called art. Deal with it, or buy me a digital camera.

Yes, lay on the “You go, girl”s! I need high-fives aplenty! Tell me I was an awesome fish mom last night! Go on, you know that I was!

I am happy to announce that last night I was a good fish mom and cleaned the tank. I was disappointed that I had to say bye-bye to one of my fishies, though I’m fairly certain the ‘fishie reign of terror‘ is now officially over.

I even cleaned the homes of all four of the bettas.

Of course, I hadn’t cleaned the tank in like a month or so. We’ll just pretend like I hadn’t been neglecting them this whole time.

And we’ll also pretend I also didn’t have a sushi/sashimi dinner the same night that I was being such a good fish mom. (I blame Courtney for planting THAT idea into my head!)

Terra is too cute!

So I got home from work Wednesday night & Terra got excited (yes, she piddled) and she RAN to put something in her mouth.

For whatever reason, the closest thing to her was a beer can. She’s been running around the yard with a beer can in her mouth.

I wish I had a decent digital camera that didn’t take blurry pictures of dogs.

Yesterday morning, I woke up to see that had Terra found my tupperware lids & had chewed a bunch of them into itty-bitty plastic bits. It’s a good thing she’s cute.

This is Terra

This is Moca’s trusty companion, Terra.

I don’t know what kind of dog Terra is. Do you?

Terra is very sweet and excitable. Unfortunately, when she gets too excited, she just can’t hold it in & she piddles everywhere.

She has pokey toenails that jab me deeply (and painfully) when she decides she wants to jump on me, which, unfortunately, is pretty often. [Please don’t suggest she needs a pedicure. They don’t help & result in her pointy toenails being EVEN SHARPER.]

Terra is also orally-fixated & can usually be seen running around with a shoe/toy/slipper/bone in her mouth. These are rare shots as Terra has nothing in her mouth.

Moca says “Have a good day!”

Moca is a big large gargantuan german shepherd who lives in our yard and protects us.

She likes to dig holes and put her wet nose on my tummy.

This is Moca saying “Have a good day!” to me as I left for work this morning. She is trying to put her wet nose on my nice, clean, white shirt. Unfortunately, because she squirmed so much, every picture I took of her was blurry. Doh.

For Murphy’s Mom

Dear Murphy’s Mom:

Today, I came by the house to pick up some mail. When I got there, the gardener was outside watering the backyard and Murphy was running around all over the wet pavement.

When Murph saw me come through the door, she thought she was going to get some playing time & grabbed one of her tennis balls and headed toward me… one of her old, grungy tennis balls… one of the icky ones that she’d chewed until it had popped.

It was wet and slimy and black and gross. And she dropped it on my foot.

Now, normally, this would not be a big deal, but today, I was wearing hose and heels. And the aforementioned slimy ball landed *plop* on my foot. Let’s just say that the hose did not provide any kind of protection for my foot from Murphy slime. And there was a nice little black/brown/green splat mark where the ball landed on my foot… but it’s ok. I was headed home soon, anyway. And I threw the ball exactly once for Murph today… sorry if she seemed disappointed when you got home.

At least she did not try to jump on me. :)

Murphy’s Law

Last night I had a meeting at the house where Murphy lives.

Though Murph is very excitable, normally she does not jump on me. She is a big strong strapping dog and as much as I love doggies, I generally do not like big doggie feet on me. I’m not too fond of little doggie feet on me, either.

I mean, I don’t think you’d like it much if I greeted you with, “Hi! How are you?!” and then stuck my foot out, or worse yet, stepped on you. Greeting people with your feet is rude, by almost any rule of etiquette.

Joz’s Rule #231: Do not greet me with your feet. I think that this rule should also apply to doggies.

It had been at least a couple of days since I’d last visited Murph. I was sitting at the dining room table when Murphy was allowed back in the house & she got a running start, planted her dirty doggie paws on me, and slurped my face.

I’d forgotten Murphy’s Law: If I haven’t seen you in a really, really long time (a couple of days), I’m allowed to get all excited, jump on you, and lick you. (Not to be confused with the more-widely-known & accepted Murphy’s Law.)

I guess Murphy’s Law overrules Joz’s Rule #231.

But unless you are Murphy or Hunny, jumping on me and licking me would be a very bad way to greet me.

It’s Raining Cats and Dogs


I have been semi-pet-sitting for the last couple of days. Ok, so really I just have an excuse to go play with cats and a doggie. My “pet-sitting” stint officially began yesterday… the day that L.A. began getting rain. A lot of rain.

Murphy, a big dog, kind of a cross between a Ridgeback and a moose, loves to play ball. Evidently the rain is not a deterrent. Not one iota. After playing ball in the rain with her for some time, I decided I needed to be warm and dry and headed inside. Murphy (somewhat reluctantly) came in with me & I held on to her collar and ducked down under the table to grab a towel to dry her off.

All I know is that when my head came up, I was nose to wet doggie snout and was sprouting white fur on the back of my neck. Nikita and Jasper (2 of the kitties) decided to try to keep me warm by making a little kitty muffler and fur hat straight out of Dr. Zhivago out of their bodies. While I appreciated the sacrifice, it’s a bit closer than anyone with cat allergies should be to the feline species.

I guess I was destined to have it rain cats and dogs on me indoors and out.

Backyard Sushi Bar

After a family discussion on the Case of the Missing Fishies, it has been determined that birds are not the likely culprits, but rather animals of a more feline nature.

Dad and Bro both witnessed a big, fat, grey cat bounding over the fence when they went out to the backyard. I guess with no more doggies running around, the kitties can start sampling the freshest sushi bar this side of Kitty Cat Heaven.

Don’t they know they need to leave some fishies in the pond so it can repopulate and restock their exquisite new dining facility?

does joz = fishie reign of terror???

I went to visit my parents this weekend and Mom informed me that the fishies in the pond were all gone.

The birds decided to have a feast in the pond this week.

Or as I put it, the birds were having sashimi.

Mom and Dad laughed at that… if only it weren’t true.

Unrelated dying fishie problem

It is a problem for me that another fishie died. But what he died of was most likely unrelated to what is causing the fish in the tank to die, since they have zero contact with each other.

This time it was one of my bettas… the red one I bought almost a year ago to put in my office at work. It’s been living at home since I left that job. For the most part, he lived in the bathroom.

That’s why he was named “The One in the Bathroom.”

Farewell, TWITB.

joz = crazy doggie lady

I’m convinced that in some language “joz” means “crazy doggie lady.”

It just isn’t normal how excited I get when I see a dog. Not only do I have to look at it, I also have to shriek “DOGGIE!” and point.

I’m still getting over the loss of our two dogs, Mei-Mei and Chu-Chu. Mei-Mei passed away suddenly about 6 months ago & Chu-Chu only a couple of weeks ago. I still talk to their pictures everyday and say goodnight to them before I go to bed. Perhaps someday I’ll share happy (and sad) stories about our dogs, but I still can’t bear to write about it, yet.

All I can do is point to their pictures. I hope you’ll enjoy.

Dying Fishie Problem

It sucks to have to admit this, but I am a bad fish mom.

My 40 gallon tank (which was left to me when my friends moved to New York) was in great condition for more than a year until recently when some sort of bacterial or fungal infection started running rampant through the tank. Despite (literally) hundreds of dollars on medication, they’re still dying. Today, I had to flush one of my feeder fishies down the toilet because he was getting all poofy. That’s not supposed to happen.

Some people seem to think that fish are disposable pets. But when you’ve spent more than a grand on fish, fish food, fish supplies, fish medicine, fish plants/furniture, not to mention the several froggies that have died… they don’t really feel that disposable.

Maybe it’s just me, but I get emotionally attached to some of my fish & have even named some of them. One of them (still alive and flipping) is a white molly that I brought home from Petco a while ago. What I did not notice (until after I brought him home) was that he only had one eye. I was initially grossed out by the fact that there was no little fish eye in the socket, and I almost took him back to the store. But I was convinced that if I took him back, they’d just let him die because no one would want to buy a one-eyed fish on purpose. So we “rescued him and we named him Jack, for one-eyed Jack.

I got especially attached to my frogs (all of whom had names, all of whom are now dead). My favorite frog was Gil (no relation to Wil’s evil twin brother), an African Dwarf Frog. He lasted almost a year and then one day stopped swimming. I cried that day, no joke.

The people at Petco, though nice, don’t know much about fish. I used to think I was a good fish mom, but until I figure out why my fish are all dying, I can only say that I am a bad fish mom.

Send good wishes for my fishes!

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