Can you overdose on hotdogs? No? Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure I did.
We had people over on Sunday to celebrate America’s Birthday a day early. We all ate too much, and swam a lot, and probably got too much sun. My husband and his friends canonballed all day, and tried to run across the world’s cheapest rafts (thanks, Big Lots), while I tried (in vain) to find room for all the food people kept bringing into the house.
Then we spent all day Monday sleeping off our hotdog-hangovers and cleaning up our house. Our friends and family are like animals! I’m kidding, they’re lovely. Most of the time. Also, guacamole a day later? Terrifying.
Anyway — one of the things we were happiest about at the party was how well our dogs behaved. Daisy — the older one — has always been OK at parties. She’s usually super excited to see everyone, and I’m always afraid she’s going to knock someone over. Also, she has a tendency to wait until you’re not looking, and then eat half of a cake. And there were a lot of cakes, and little people. So I was a little worried.
Jake, on the other hand, has never really been to a party. Last year when we had our massive housewarming-pool-party with 60+ guests, we’d only had him for a few months, and he still spooked really easily, so we decided to kennel both dogs for the day. He’s come a long way in the last year — but I was still worried that he’d fear-pee all over the house until everyone left.
Thankfully, that didn’t happen.
And another little bonus? They both love babies — Jake especially. Or maybe they just love Olivia, because everyone loves Olivia. But whatever. I was excited they were interested in, and gentle with, the baby, and didn’t try to eat her. They just licked her. A lot. And she loved it. Everybody’s happy!
We did have a little dog-related excitement though, leading up to the party, and the day of.
A few days before the party — we had to top off the pool. So, we pulled out the garden hose, and let it run for a few hours every night after we got home. After the first night, Mike decided to leave the hose where it was, half in the grass, and half in the pool.
Now, I should preface this story with a little background information.
If you’ve never owned an in-ground pool (I never had before) you should know that you will occasionally find dead animals in the water. No one ever told me that. The first few times it happened I was horrified and sobbing. But the seventh-ish time though, you start to realized that chipmunks are really, really dumb. It’s almost always chipmunks, at least at our house. Chipmunks and frogs. But we’ve had the occasional squirrel too.
This year though, the pool has been surprisingly animal-free. That might be because up until two weeks ago, it was neon green, and even chipmunks and frogs think that’s gross.
Thursday morning, Mike got up with the dogs and let them outside. A split second later, he noticed a squirrel on the pool deck, right by the hose. Thankfully, the dogs had run in the opposite direction, and he was headed over to see if it was still alive.
Amazingly, it was — but it was also soaking wet, and exhausted. We think it probably fell in the pool, came across the hose, and managed to pull itself out of the water. That squirrel probably thought it was his lucky day.
And then Daisy found it. A split second before Mike could get to it.
Don’t panic! She didn’t murder it. But she did mouth it a little bit. And then the squirrel started squeaking, as squirrels tend to do — you know, when they’re trapped in a pitbull’s mouth — which led to a little more mouthing until she dropped it (with some encouragement from Mike, of course).
And then, in an unexpected turn of events, the squirrel turned around, and latched on to Daisy’s face! Mike said he couldn’t tell if it was clawing or biting her, but she was shaking like crazy, and that squirrel was stuck to her chin.
So, like any good dog father would do, Mike sprung into action.
And by sprung into action, I mean he ran up and kicked the squirrel off the dog’s face.
Daisy’s fine, the squirrel survived, and Mike is a squirrel-kicking hero.
The day of the party, we had more food than we knew what to do with. Thankfully my in-laws brought us their folding tables, and we set some up inside with food and drinks. One table — the drink table — ended up right next to the sofa in our family room. After a few hours, some of the bowls of chips made their way onto the drink table to make space for all the rest of the food people brought with them.
There were chips galore, and some of those new chessey things — that look like Hot Fries, only they’re not hot? Do you know what I’m talking about? I can’t remember what they’re called. But I assure you, my Hot Fries comparison is totally accurate.
Hours later, there were only a few of us left, and we were all in the pool while the dogs ran around the yard minding their own business. When my bff Matt when inside to dry off and change out of his bathing suit, Jake went inside with him. Jake takes after me, in that we both despise being outside unless absolutely necessary (or in my case, in a swimming pool), so I knew he’d be OK in the house with Matt.
But I was wrong.
While Matt was changing, Jake climbed up onto the back of the sofa, and onto the drink table, where he promptly helped himself to the bowl of cheese fries. By the time Matt caught him, the bowl was almost empty. And it was a big bowl.
He came outside to tell us what happened, and Jake came out with him, prancing around, covered in orange cheese dust. You know the orange fingers you get from Cheetos? Yeah, he had a ring of that all around his little dog mouth. It was so adorable, I couldn’t even be mad. Also, those cheese things are delicious, and I wanted to stick my face in the bowl too, so who am I to judge?