Gone to the Dogs: Reflections on Passive Aggression and Puppy Piddle

I am a traditional girl who traditionally takes part in several traditional summer traditions. One of these traditional summer traditions has been to puppy sit for my pal Elizabeth.

My first excursion into the furry, slobbery world of dog-watching took place way, way back in 2008 when Elizabeth went to Poland for three weeks. While Liz and her banjo were having many international musical experiences (and one awkward hostel communal shower experience), I stayed in Cowtown to keep an eye on her neurotic bat-eared rat-dog, Chloe.

During those three weeks, my nephew Bentley developed and deep and abiding love of smallish dogs, Chloe developed a whole new set of neuroses rooted in newly developed abandonment issues, and I developed some fun ideas for blog posts that have since become some of my favorites (much like this one... My Puppy Epiphany). What Elizabeth and the other party involved in the awkward Polish hostel communal shower experience developed is anyone's guess.

Since that summer of '08, I have puppy-sat for Elizabeth approximately 873 times. In the last few years, Chloe has been joined by Willow, a shih tzu/poodle mix (which, on an unrelated note, makes for the only mixed dog-breed abbreviation more interesting than my beloved labradoodle ).

This past week, I kept an eye on Chloe and Willow while Elizabeth was house hunting in Las Vegas.

 In case you weren't aware, Elizabeth was recently lured to a Nevada teaching position by the promise of excessive heat, legalized gambling, and licensed brothels.

Ha ha! Just kidding!

I think!

What Elizabeth was actually lured by was the promise of getting paid a lot more to do less work, which is pretty much the opposite of what happens in Idaho.

And really, who can blame her for that? Certainly not me, which means that my bringing-up of that unfortunate awkward Polish hostel communal shower experience in this very public post is in no way a passive aggressive response to my newly developed abandonment issues.

An actual example of a passive aggressive response to abandonment would be tinkling on the floor... Which brings us back to the original topic of this post: Puppy Sitting.

The addition of a second pup to the puppy-sitting has made the process much more exciting. And when I say "exciting" what I mean is "filled with escape attempts and puddles of puppy piddle."

While Chloe is very intelligent, polite, graceful, and intuitive, Willow is, well, a total spaz.

I spent most of the week trying to figure her out.

One minute I was sure that she is as dumb as three bags of rocks. The next, I was certain she was an evil genius. Either way, it was a bit of a relief when Elizabeth returned and re assumed the responsibility of the two additional bladders.

And, since Elizabeth will still be around for a week or two, you might want to take the opportunity to ask her about that awkward Polish hostel communal shower experience.

Passive-Aggressively Yours,
Mindy

How To Deep Fry A Twinkie

Step #1: Make friends with an amazingly wonderful, overworked, under-appreciated orchestra teacher. Be sure your orchestra teacher is willing to do anything short of selling her left kidney to raise the money she needs to keep her district’s strings program going.

Step #2: Find a large group of pre-assembled people who would be willing to buy and eat deep fried Twinkies, i.e. monster truck rallies, Comic-Con, county fairs, Daughters of the America Revolution afternoon teas, medical marijuana dispensaries, the South, Ivy League University class reunions, or Canada.

HELPFUL HINT: If you decide to go with the county fair option like Elizabeth, be sure to secure booth space next to as much livestock as possible.

Step #3: Recruit willing orchestra students, orchestra parents, and friends from other school districts to serve as salespeople, money-takers, tally-mark-makers, and fry cooks.
Step #4: Purchase supplies, including fryers, Twinkies, cake mixes, napkins, forks, paper boats, tarps, folding chairs, large pointy forky thingies, and eggs.

HELPFUL TIP: When entrusting high school orchestra students with the responsibility of returning the perishable items to the booth cooler or the 4H freezer, make sure they know in which area the eggs should be returned. HINT: It is NOT the FREEZER.

Step #5: Advertise!

HELPFUL TIP: When affixing signage to bouncy little 6th graders, duct tape works much better than twine.

ANOTHER HELPFUL TIP: When allowing bouncy little 6th graders to CREATE signage, be sure to have an adult check the spelling before posting that signage on your booth.

Step #6: Fry those Twinkies!

Step #7 (Optional): Toss in some Oreos too. The chocolate lovers will thank you, as will their cardiologists who will then be able to afford those new vacation homes on Martha’s Vineyard after the post-fair week bypass bills are paid.

Step #8: Attempt to talk passersby into purchasing and consuming the Twinkies and/or Oreos.

HELPFUL TIP: Try coming up with different slogans to yell at the passerby, such as:”It’s fair week! Live a little!” or “Buy a Twinkie: It’s for the children!” or “Consume some bad carbs for a good cause!” or “Just one won’t kill you… probably!”

Step #9: Eat one, or two. Remember, it’s for the children.
Step #10: Go on a strict diet and begin an aspirin regimen in preparation for your own county’s upcoming fair week. Rumor has it, there might be deep fried butter and chocolate covered bacon.

Cardiologists of the Magic Valley, Rejoice! I see new sports cars in your future.

Spring Break Report, Part 4 : Here and There, or THE END

To wrap up my very long and drawn-out spring break report, I thought I would take a little bit of time to sum up the differences between Memphis and my little piece of heaven here in the valley.

First of all, it was a tad bit warmer in Memphis.

How much is a "tad bit?"

Well, let's just say Memphis didn't get any snow that week and leave it at that.

There was still a lot of teaching going on, but I got to listen to the teaching instead of doing the teaching. It was strangely satisfying.

I definitely noticed a difference in how homes were decorated.

I came home with a great decor theme for my guest bed room. It's gonna be good.

Another difference, the kidlets weren't kidlets.

They were actual "kids".

And there was a lot of them. So many, in fact, that by the second day I had given up on trying to learn all of their names. I decided just to call them all Fred. Fred didn't seem to mind. Fred was a really good sport that way.

What's the difference between my kidlets and actual "kids" like Fred?

Well, "kids" smell a bit better.

Oh, and they are taller.

(Above: [Left to right] Fred, Fred, Fred, and Me)

Taller... but just as dorky.

Maybe even dorkier.

Yep. Definatly dorkier. Oh, and the traffic? It was a bit more intense.

In summary, Memphis was different in a lot of fun ways and I saw many things that I am pretty sure I would never have seen otherwise.

Thanks Elizabeth and Freds. It was a blast.

Spring Break Report Parts 1 & 2

We're baaaack! And by "We", I mean Elizabeth, myself, five parent chaperones, and all 28 high school orchestra students who spent the last four days in Memphis.

That's right folks, we didn't lose a single kid. Not a one! Sure, cell phones might have been left on planes and ear rings may have been left on buses, but all of the kids made it back to Rupert last night, so we are counting the trip as a total success.

Even though we were only there for a few days, we managed to do and see a lot. For example, we spent some time on the banks of the Mississippi River... and not a single kid fell or jumped in! We met with researchers at St. Judes... where all of the questions the kids asked were intelligent and appropriate.

We visited the Civil Rights Museum... and not a single kid asked which door was the one where Martin Luther nailed up his paper about not buying your way into heaven.
We spent a lot of time listening to and creating beautiful music... all made by actual instruments instead of with armpits and/or various body parts expelling gasses.

We explored Beale Street... without the kids asking too many questions about some of the menu items posted on windows.
We visited a huge mall, experienced real southern cooking, and played laser tag... all without serious injury.

Oh, and we also spent a morning at a quaint little place called Graceland.

Our four days were so jam-packed, there is no way that a single post could contain all of the southern-fried goodness of our trip. Instead, I am putting together a few semi-massive posts about walking in Memphis.

Lets start with...

Part 1: Getting to Memphis

Our trip started out in the high school orchestra room at 11:00 Sunday night, where the kids practiced the pick-up lines that they were planning to use during the much anticipated giant mall excursion (for example: You must be from Tennessee 'cuase you are the only "ten" I see.)

Our plane was supposed to leave Salt Lake City at 6 a.m., which meant that our bus needed to be on the freeway hours earlier. The kids were too excited to do any sleeping on the drive down. They had been working towards this trip for two years, and they were bound and determined to enjoy every single minute of it.

Thanks to roads free of snow and traffic, we made it to the airport early...

... a bit too early. We had to wait for about an hour and a half for the airline folks to show up, but the kids didn't mind too much. They played Uno while the kids who had flown before passed on their wisdom to the kids who were new to the flight experience.

After three hours on a bus, three and a half hours in the airport, and four and a half hours on a plane, we touched down in Nashville. I thought that, since most of them had been awake for thirty hours or so, they would sleep on the bus during the three hour drive to Memphis.

But I was wrong.

So very, very wrong.

Instead, they talked and they sang and they practiced their southern accents. After the bus ride, there was dinner at an amazing BBQ place and a concert at the University of Memphis. Then there was the excitement of a hotel with...wait for it... an elevator AND vending machines. The kids drank it all in until late that night, which leads us to our next segment...

Part 2: Sleeping in Memphis

But the orchestra kids weren't the only folks in need of random naps. Even orchestra directors need a rest every now and then. And she earned it. Trust me.
Up Next: This was a school trip, so education was the number one priority. Stay tuned for what the kids learned... compared to what the chaperones learned.

Walking in Memphis... With 30 High School Students From Rural South Central Idaho

This is Elizabeth. When Elizabeth isn't busy with her high-altitude-mountain-disco hobby, she is the Orchestra Director/Teacher/Advisor/Mentor/Tuner/String-fixer for the school district across the river. Elizabeth has spent the last two years planning and fund-raising for an orchestra trip to Tennessee. This is Ratha, Elizabeth's handsome hubby. Ratha doesn't get to go to Tennessee because his job doesn't come with a built-in Spring Break. But don't feel too bad for Ratha. His job also doesn't come with an entire state legislature spending massive amounts of time and energy trying to figure out how to make him feel worthless and vilified. Spring Break or not, Ratha is doing pretty well.

This is Chloe, Elizabeth's bat-eared-rat-dog. Usually, when Elizabeth and Ratha leave town, I am the designated puppy-sitter.

And this is Me. And Elizabeth. And we match. On purpose. For a Relief Society mother/daughter activity (FYI, I was playing the part of "daughter", while Liz played the role of "young, trophy-wife step-mother "). Because Elizabeth's permanent roommate/travel buddy couldn't come to Tennessee, I was promoted from dog-sitter to chaperon. So now, instead of walking Chloe around on a leash for four days, begging her to piddle under trees in parks, I will be walking 30 high school kids around for four days, begging them NOT to piddle under trees in parks. That is, of course, assuming that Tennessee has laws prohibiting public piddling, which I am pretty sure they do... at least in the nicer parks.

I have never been to Tennessee before, so I am pretty excited.

I have also never chaperoned a high school trip before, so I am pretty nervous too. After all, high school means actual "kids" instead of "kidlets". Kids and kidlets are two very different species. We're talking Disney Channel vs. MTV, Justin Bieber vs. Lady Gaga, Mt. Dew vs. Red Bull.

Thankfully, these particular high school kids are from Rupert (Town Motto: It could be worse. At least we're not from Paul) , Paul (Town Motto: Proudly wearing the same styles since 1982) and Acequia (Town Motto: Now with indoor plumbing!) These kids are more CMT than MTV, and the only Red Bull they care about is the one they draw to ride in the high school rodeo tournament.

Plus, they are orchestra students, so ... well ... you know. It's not like I'm taking the football team to Vegas.

Still, I think I would be a bit less nervous if leashes were going to be involved in the chaperoning process, but Elizabeth forgot to write a leash-clause into the permission slip so cell phone checks and tape across hotel doors will have to suffice.

Next weekend, if all goes well, you will be reading about my many Memphis adventures on this blog. If all doesn't go well, you will probably be reading about my many Memphis adventures on CNN.com.

Lets all hope for the blog, shall we? Wish us luck! Tennessee here we come!