Winter

I've included pictures of Tiki's first Christmas with us - many good times. At least for us. Tiki baking cookies. Tiki opening presents. Tiki's first snow with us. Tiki and Santa.

I have also included pictures of our dog's latest escapade. Actually we don't know what happened - one day, a bald spot just appeared on Tiki's back. How it got there, we don't know - did she burn it off by laying too close to the space heater? Did she get caught trying to sneak under the fence? Is she stressed, and her hair is falling out? No idea. Your suggestions are welcome.

Stole the biscuit.....

(For any Eddie Izzard fans out there, you will appreciate my husband's frequent comment to our dog recently..... "Bad dog.... stole a biscuit.")

For awhile now, I have declined any opportunities to watch the movie "Marley and me" because I have heard Matt's brother state that he saw women leaving the movie theater after watching that movie weeping, with mascara running down their faces. Last night, Matt and I sat down to watch "Marley and me." No tears. But an extraordinary thing happened at the Totsch house last night. The movie ended, and we were feeling warm and good inside, looking fondly at our dog Tiki. And Matt said to her, "Come here," and in an unprecedented event, Tiki was allowed to climb up onto the couch and curl up on our laps (Mostly mine, which is why she did not stay up there very long, as 45 lbs of dog is still 45 lbs - I felt like Michael in the latest episode of the Office). I went to sleep thinking, "We actually have a pretty good dog."

And woke up to the reality of our dog throwing up twice during the night. When we have let her in the backyard recently, we have a hard time getting her back inside, despite the cold temperatures. There must be something out there that she considers edible. Oh well - probably no more time up on the couch with us for awhile. Tiki, you were so close.....

Space heaters

Apparently I am not the only one in our house who loves the space heater. At first I worried that Tiki would burn herself by laying too close to the space heater (further proof in my mind of her limited brain capacity). However reason tells me that if she were getting too hot, she would move.

Thinking about it further, maybe we have a dog who is not afraid of fires - after all, didn't she almost knock the burning candle on our guests? It makes me like Tiki more that she likes the space heater, our dog who is afraid of bushes and ducks and little kids' toy push mowers.


I consider her love of the space heater as proof that she is too cold in her crate in the basement, and therefore needs lots of blankets down there with her to keep her warm. Matt reminds me that she already has lots of blankets down there to keep her warm, and that she is a dog. This seems to be a theme around here - I attribute our dog with having many feelings and thoughts and emotions that Matt reminds me are probably not necessarily true, as she is a dog.

Moving coffee table

Since we got Tiki, Matt Totsch has unsuccessfully attempted to teach our dog that she can also be used as a coffee table. For your enjoyment.....

Hugs for Tiki

Tonight I thought, I have never given my dog a hug. When I tried to hug her, she hit me in the cheekbone with her head, and I will probably have a bruise there tomorrow.

hum drum.....

Now that we have begun a blog, I have eagerly waited all week for our dog to pull through and give me something worthy of writing a post about. I have in some bizarre way been disappointed that she has not done anything outragious or even interesting to share. Or maybe the truth is that Matt and I are just getting used to her and no longer NOTICE when she gives us reason to consider bartering her on Craig's List (so far we have only joked about this option; however I believe that we could greatly disappoint some dog lovers by even mentioning that we discussed the idea, even in jest.)

She still goes into convulsions when we come home, which I do think is the best thing about dogs, that they never seem to lose that joy of greeting you at the door, like they thought you would never come home. She still tries to eat cicadas on our walks, although I have noticed that there do not seem to be as many dead ones on the ground these days, which some may attribute to a migration of the insect population or something scientific, and which I with a mixture of disgust, amazement and slight pride attribute to our dog's contribution to peace and quiet in the neighborhood. She still, sadly, gets scared easily by sprinklers, laundry hampers, and toddlers on scooters (we do not know much about her previous ownership except that she was pretty skinny when she was rescued).

And the only other noteworthy Tiki-related item of the week is that I have become "one of those people" and announced to Matt yesterday my intentions to get our dog a Christmas stocking. Not only do I start thinking about Christmas in September, and start listening to Christmas music as soon as it comes on the radio after Halloween, but I will now be joining numerous other pet lovers in the belief that I need to fill a stocking with treats for our dog for Christmas morning. It will probably even have her name on it.

Not your run of the mill gravy

I didn't think I would be using this when Kathleen showed it to me tonight. But...this warrants a post. So tomorrow (5am actually) I will be getting up for our annual Kearney trip. For this trip Ian and I are in charge of breakfast. I love biscuits and grazy, love it. Probably could eat for every meal for a week and still eat more. Well, I'm sure you see where this is going. Apparently, Tiki and I have something in common for our love for gravy. I've been cooking up a storm tonight, getting ready for the Kearney trip as well as a party with Kathleen's coworkers on Sunday. I'm all done, except in my getting ready, I realized that I left my most delicious gravy on the stairs while I grabbed some salt and pepper. Not sure why I put it there, probably trying to multitask one too many things. So of course puppy decides, "I should knock this dang thing over so I can get to what's inside"...and she succeeds. Fortunately, I was able to grab it before too much spilled out. Was I angry with her, yes. Was it her fault, definitely not. Just doing what dogs do best, find food, then figure out how to eat. Did I let her eat it, well not all of it, but it was just too good to go to waste. Sorry Kearney boyz, we may be a bit short, luckily I make everything in absurd quantities. Totsch.
ps - thanks to mildred anderson for the best B&G recipe ever!