I went to a physiotherapist today to get my spine cracked, and I must admit, they really seem to know what they are doing! The euphoric feeling following being cracked in a pretzel-position was amazing. And the headache and slight nausea from the sudden free blood flow is a good sign of possibly, maybe, needing a bit more movement in my spine during the days. Working in an office and surfing the net after work aren’t really doing my vertebrae any wonders.
But I guess these are just the first signs of getting older. It wasn’t so long ago when I was as nimble as Nala and couldn’t even have imagined having a sore back or a stiff neck. And I couldn’t even have dreamed of doing yoga or pilates, to be honest it seemed like useless stretching to me, and I thought my attention span would never be up to the challenge.
But after seeing that even Nala can enjoy a bit of pilates (or dogalates) after a nap as she stretches her legs one by one and points her nose high towards the ceiling, or when she crouches her whole body like a cat – I realize that if she can do it, so can I. And I should.
After all, I can’t ride on the euphoric high of cracking my spine forever.
Dogalates position one: Upward-facing dog.
Have you heard the rumour that spreads around,
it’s the story of the dreaded Faceless Hound,
who – without even making a sound –
would bring terror to one and all.
For when the Faceless Hound got you in sight,
you could try to run with all your might,
but she would always catch you, darn right,
even if she herself was rather small.
See the Faceless Hound was the spy of spies,
she didn’t need a cute nose or puppy eyes,
trying to resist her would be the try of all tries,
but even the toughest would always fall.
So let me warn you my friend, you are dead meat,
you’ll fall in love with this creature in one heartbeat,
and you’ll find yourself giving her yet another treat,
until you have none left for you at all.
I’m not dressed as the Faceless Hound – I’m dressed as a Tasmanian Devil!
Autumn – the time of the year when you realize even the last traces of your summer tan are gone (unless you are my friend who just came back from a holiday in Italy and looks like she is dipped in chocolate) and you find yourself putting on layers upon layers of clothes which, to be honest, don’t do anyone’s figure any favors. So what is a girl to do in times like these to feel good about themselves?
Get a haircut of course. I surely would desperately need one, but today was not my day, so guess who got a new do?
You’d think our little prissy missy would be delighted, after all, she got rid of all the split ends and the frizziness and she is now as soft and smooth as a puppy. She even got complimented on her cuteness when were out on our walk (compliments that she threw at the lady’s face by barking back – nice touch). Fair enough, she didn’t get her cut at the trendiest salon, but it’s not like it’s one of those embarrassing school photo cuts either where it looks like your mom has put a bowl on your head and cut around it. At least I think she ended up looking really cute – but let’s let the pictures speak for themselves.
Here’s what I’ve realized: good things really do come in small packages. There’s the classic small package which comes with a kneel and a certain question, then there’s the small packages that are delivered at hospital which never cease to amaze me (I mean really, how is it possible you start growing something inside you which ends up talking and walking?) and of course there are the miniscule things that just make everyday life enjoyable such as a good pizza or a beautiful sunset.
And then there are the small furry packages that with their mere presence are able to brighten up our every day. The packages that seem to contain an endless supply of inner sunshine and they ooze pure bliss even on the rainiest of days.
And not only that, they are good reminders of how to enjoy the simple things in life, such as a squirrel scurrying by, a pinecone in the middle of the street or a ribbon around a jar of olives your friend bought over from Italy. See, our furry friends do not need the finer things in life, the olives for example, they are equally happy with just the ribbon.
For hours and hours on end.
Oozing pure bliss.
It’s strange how tv is all about reality shows nowadays. Whether it’s about building, cooking, dating or – don’t get me started on this one – living in one house infront of several tv cameras, I still find it difficult to imagine this is all people want to see! Or is there such a big variety of reality tv shows out there because they are cheap to produce?
This is my recommendation to tv producers out there: Make a reality tv show about dogs (I’m sure their salaries are lower). And no, not dog training or grooming, we’ve seen that already. But how about a dog Big Brother or a dog Bachelor? If the audience is having a hard time understanding the language, you can always use subtitles. Or even better – dubbing. I’d find it entertaining seeing a chihuahua speak Spanish or a bulldog speaking French.
And watch out all you celebrities out there, just you wait until the gossip hits the headlines. Who sniffed whose behind (even though they claim it was completely innocent). Or who got caught wagging their tail at the fine poodle next door – there’s a thin line between a flirty and a friendly wag!
Not to mention the dog that was found with a pile of bones buried in their backyard.
Sorry – can’t go out for a walk right now, Desperate Doghousewives is on!
I’ve heard many parents are amazed when they witness their children learning new things, whether it’s learning to walk, learning a few words of a new language or how to multiply numbers. Funnily enough, it never was as amazing, when we learned the things ourselves. We just did.
And so does Nala. We try to figure out new tricks to teach her and every once in a blue moon we might actually think of a new trick, but once we start teaching her, she picks it up very quickly and we’re back to square one busting our brains to think of something new. So we end up teaching her very important tricks such as “jump [over my arm]” or “peek-a-boo”, which, to be honest, are not tricks worth explaining in much detail (but which do still seem to amuse the audience).
So what can we do as parents, when we find our babies growing out of our comfort zone and outwitting us in almost everything we do? New tricks can be taught day in day out, but to be honest, there are only so many peek-a-boos you can think of. There are activity toys out there for some brain-wracking, but even those get too easy too soon. So you find new ways, such as hiding a treat inside an egg carton.
That should give you three peaceful minutes of mommy time.
Treat inside a toilet paper roll – done in less than a minute. What next?
I was on a business trip last week and it made me realize how we totally take some things for granted – being able to drink tap water safely, for example. Or, how here in Finland we are so lucky to be able to venture out into the woods and pick berries or mushrooms (and eat them safely), like we did yesterday. And this did not mean packing our bags for a whole day’s trip as the woods are only a 15-minute drive away.
We were very lucky to find a few liters of wild mushrooms by spending an hour in the woods and, of course, we had our little supervisor on duty joining us on our venture. Not that Nala really understood what on earth we were picking off the ground, she could have found a dozen more interesting sticks or shrubs to chew on. To be honest, she got bored of the whole thing rather quickly.
But if pigs can be trained to find truffles, why couldn’t dogs be trained to find mushrooms? I’m sure our little smartypants would figure the whole thing out rather quickly and with her little twitching nose we would be able to find even more mushrooms in a shorter period of time. After all, spotting the tiny things can be rather difficult when you’re only relying on a pair of eyes which are a few feet off ground level.
So maybe this training is what I should focus on during the upcoming winter. Meanwhile, I’ll just enjoy my mushroom risotto and watch the rain fall. Autumn at its best.
So THIS is what you were so eagerly picking?!
Nope, still not impressed.
All women love shopping. I believe shopping gives women the same rush and sense of satisfaction as a sports game would for men. Or getting a treat out of an activation toy would for dogs. All this hard work of choosing the best possible handbag / pair of shoes / whatever results in a very happy woman (too often combined with a very unhappy credit card).
But it’s not only me in this household who loves to shop. As I’ve told you before, Nala is also an expert in choosing her own toys at the pet store. Although she needs her servants to show her each toy one by one, out of which she chooses her favorite. I’m telling you, she’d be absolutely fine in haute couture boutiques!
However, poor Nala has yet to enter the lovely digital world of shopping. With only a few clicks (and minor credit card fraud) she would have access to succulent treats and toys beyond imagination. I’m sure her eyes would gleam like mine when I am clicking away and ordering something I can always justify as absolutely necessary.
Like mother like daughter, just add a tail and four popcorn paws.
I chose ducky!
Sometimes I feel this world is only about survival. Darwinism, if you may. Whether it’s getting through a tough situation at work, recovering from illness or struggling with the notion of the upcoming winter – it’s all about survival. And sometimes, it seems, you need to either jump over a few hurdles or stretch your back to limbo in order to get through.
I have to admit, this year has so far been a tough one. But there is some light at the ever shortening tunnel, and even if it has meant some butting heads to get through, I’m sure I’ll be out of this tunnel soon. But sometimes I just wish things would fall into place a little bit easier in this dog-eat-dog world of ours.
Because in a dog’s world it’s not nearly as much dog-eat-dog. Dogs establish a hierarchy quicker than we are able to even start strategizing our first move. They are way ahead of us in this game. When we are thinking two dogs are playing nicely together, they can be at eachothers’ throats in no time, all you need is a delicious bone, for example. And where us humans would hold a grudge for weeks, dogs can snap back to being best of friends in no time.
This kind of cleaning the air would seem like such a healthy option for us humans too.
Nope, this dog ain’t eating that dog.
I apologize for having been such a sucky blogger lately. I blame it all on my new found hobby running. I guess the time I now spend running (which, mind you, is not THAT much) I used to spend writing. But winter is just around the hopefully very long corner and I’ll have no more excuses to hide behind.
In addition to neglecting blogging, I’ve also been a sucky mom when it comes to grooming Nala. I don’t know why it sometimes feels like such a hurdle to pick up the scissors and start trimming. But with that being said, I have learnt my lesson this time. Because by the time I managed to trim Nala into her slender self again, she had already gathered a few friends in the fur of hers. Yep, you know it, two disgusting ticks.
By now you must already now how I feel about ticks and how I regard them as direct spawns of the devil. They are, in addition to leeches, one of the most disgusting creatures to ever crawl on this planet. With that being said you can only imagine how happy I was to find this double dosage of disgust attached to poor Nala’s snout.
The worst part is, my disgust rubs off on Nala instantly. Poor thing, she starts shaking as she knows we are taking out the dreaded tweezers and then spraying some antiseptic on the bite. Not that it really even hurts her, or feels that terrible, but our little drama queen is shaken for up to an hour after. No treats or petting helps, she just keeps scurrying around the house like a maniac.
Having overcome that battle I’m pretty sure I don’t want to tread on this terrain again. Next time I’m much better off getting my behind off the couch, picking up the scissors and being a good mommy.
Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.