tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79705034274205588892024-03-13T22:53:54.502-05:00The Real Life Adventures of the Prickett PackPrickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-14075091021093537542013-03-25T21:35:00.001-05:002013-03-25T21:35:18.554-05:00Spring has sprung!<div style="text-align: center;">
It's officially spring!! </div>
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This means the roses are blooming--</div>
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This tree is showing off it's yellow balls that smell super good!</div>
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The blue bonnets are blue bonneting....</div>
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This thing is blooming...</div>
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Mulligan had his birthday on the first full day of spring! My rolly polly boy turned 12! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">12 years young</td></tr>
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All the dogs got bones and with the mild Texas weather, they were supposed to be good puppies and eat them outside. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Except for Bunker, who decided to take his to the couch...</div>
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Happy Spring Y'all!!</div>
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Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-32635848534145259852013-03-18T07:37:00.000-05:002013-03-18T07:37:51.550-05:00Nationals 2013 "recap"Well, it's over. The National Agility Championship for 2013 is done like my cooked chicken. <br />
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What's truly amazing to me is how totally different this national was from the one in 2011. It was in Oklahoma verses Virginia, but that's not what I mean. It's how everything went, and how I feel today. That's what's totally different. <br />
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Two years ago, Cally made it to the challengers round (like the semi finals) and Bunker did super well but didn't do well enough to make the final rounds. Those spots usually go to border collies anyway. This year, Bunker had a qualifying round in Time To Beat and picked up 7 points, Cally took 7th place in Jww. Those were our only qualifying rounds going into Sunday's runs. <br />
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The top dogs were a pretty close pack and I knew that going into Sunday's hybrid course. This means that it was time to run "balls to the walls." Partially because we had nothing to lose, but mostly because that's what is super fun. And my dogs rock. We didn't qualify on Sunday, Bunker's teeter got called and he shot through an off course tunnel, Cally took a bar and took the same off course tunnel. But it was FUN and we both left the ring happy. Ok, the dogs were happy and they wanted their cookies, but whatever. <br />
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This is the amazing part that gets me: Two years ago, after nationals I was exhausted. I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. My entire body ached and I could have just slept for days. This year I feel great. In fact, I'm totally inspired. My mind is turning and churning and I have a bunch of training "what if's and why not's?" rolling around in there. I'm super excited to see where these ideas take us in our training and I'm thrilled to finally be mature enough to know that our runs were perfect even in their imperfections. Just like Arnold says on the Dick's sporting goods commercial. We ran our runs, nobody else's and I won't let the lack of placement or ribbons determine the worth of my dog. They are amazing. Thank you Tulsa for such an awesome experience!<br />
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<br />Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-18461890793460963622013-03-14T18:19:00.001-05:002013-03-14T18:19:50.286-05:00Living on Tulsa Time...The Prickett Pack has arrived in Tulsa! We're here for the 2013 AKC National Agility Championship. Bunker and Cally will be running this weekend. We qualified and went back in 2011 when it was held in Virginia. It was awesome. <br />
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Of course back then we also practiced a couple of times a week and took weekly lessons to make certain we were ready. This time around-um not so much. Practices have been few and far between. In fact,half of my equipment isn't functional right now. <br />
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Back in 2011 I'd sworn off caffeine and ate salads en route to make certain I was in tip top shape to run the pups. This year I'm skating on Chick-fil-a, Starburst jelly beans and diet Coke.<br />
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I'd be lying if I said that I don't care how the dogs do this year. Who enters a competition but doesn't care how they do? Ok, probably somebody but not me. I care. But I think my standards have changed for this year. This year my prayer is that I handle my dogs well and make good handling choices. The chips (not bars!) will fall where they may, but then I can walk away from this with joyful memories of two labs and one handler having the time of their lives in an agility ring. <br />
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Wish us luck!<br />
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<br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Gza_iPw_b8U/UUJbDxMAnWI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/q72MTmTKqUo/s640/blogger-image-137821557.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Gza_iPw_b8U/UUJbDxMAnWI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/q72MTmTKqUo/s640/blogger-image-137821557.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-EChujIlHDu4/UUJbFJtSNPI/AAAAAAAAAnY/DSSum35HpNw/s640/blogger-image-1469702013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-EChujIlHDu4/UUJbFJtSNPI/AAAAAAAAAnY/DSSum35HpNw/s640/blogger-image-1469702013.jpg" /></a></div>Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-14115684327301160112013-03-06T21:34:00.001-06:002013-03-06T21:34:32.163-06:00The missing chicken mystery....Mr. P was out of town the other night and I was hungry (or bored, or just plain like to eat) and I had a whopping ONE chicken breast left over in the fridge from the night that Mr. P decided to cook AND do the dishes. I won't brag, but I'm so lucky. Oh, and him doing the dishes was a direct result of me pointing out that because he didn't line the pan with any aluminum foil there was now enough crud baked on to keep a ship barnacle cleaner busy for a decade. I decided to put that chicken breast out of it's misery living in my fridge and serve it up as my supper. I'm super kind that way. <br />
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Besides the fact that I can bake practically ANYTHING, I admit that I'm not the best thing that's ever walked into a kitchen. Not even second best. Although I like to think that I'm so dang cute (HA!) that my looks instantly improve any room-including the kitchen-they don't necessarily make the food taste good. A girl can only go so far with that. (I've tried)<br />
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Anywho.... My first thought was to slap ol' Fog Horn Leg Horn on the grill. Easy. Peasy. And just the amount of clean up that I like to have. (aka-almost none) The problem was that while the grill <i>physically</i> made the trip from Minnesota, it didn't really fare that well. In fact, it now has some "extra" pieces and doesn't really want to function in even the barest sense. So no chillin' while grillin' for me. <br />
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My second choice (and the one I totally went for) was to crack out the counter top grill thing that we used to use fairly often back in Minnesota. Kinda like a George Foreman grill, but the grill plates pop out and totally go in the dish washer. (Not the Mr. P type of dishwasher. The other kind, silly.)<br />
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After I slapped my chicken on into the griddle thingy, I busied myself with super important things like Facebook and Pinterest and watching silly cat videos on YouTube. It occurred to me that I might be burning my precious dinner eats, so I decided to check on my clucker. This is what I saw:<br />
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I am not kidding. (as if I'd kid about supper/food-sheesh) I freaked. Do you want to know what my first and only thought was? I thought I'd cooked it so long it disintegrated. Seriously. I thought it just went straight to chicken dust. <br />
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And two seconds later it fell from the top plate of the griddle. It was totally stuck to the top plate. And I DIDN'T cook it to smitherines. HA! Take that evil non-baking gremlins of the kitchen! Cooking success! It was good. So good that I shared it with the begging pups. (I refuse to acknowledge the fact that they'll eat just about anything. I don't need that kind of rain on my meat cooking parade right now)<br />
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<br />So the moral of the story is this: if you're missing your chicken-LOOK UP!! <div>
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And you thought this blog never gave you any useful information.... :) <div>
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Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-86094669160434274392013-03-04T13:34:00.001-06:002013-03-04T13:34:51.267-06:00Western Dressing, but not Western Dressing. Here is Texas there are a ton of people that dress in western fashion. In other words western dressing:<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How am I going to find a horse to match this?</td></tr>
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<br />BUT (there's always a but) they don't have Western Dressing (a common Minnesota staple). Seriously. How is this even possible?? I checked all the stores and online and there isn't a bottle within 50 miles of me. Not funny. I brought one bottle from the great state of 10,000 lakes.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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But when that was getting low, which didn't take long because I eat a salad with Western dressing almost every day. I started to panic. I found I could buy it online but it was like $16 a bottle! What?? I sent an SOS to my mother who hoofed it to the store and sent me three BIG bottles of Western dressing!! Whoop whoop!! I'm all stocked up again!! All's well again in the Prickett household!<br />
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Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-26451268834741345202013-02-27T13:31:00.000-06:002013-02-27T13:31:14.132-06:00A Household Super HeroI'm a super hero. I have no idea how I stay so humble. <br />
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It seems like almost every day I see this: (not really every day. That's an exaggeration, unlike the super hero comment-that's totally true)<br />
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or this:<br />
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And I'm the ONLY one in the entire house that can turn it into THIS!<br />
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The plus side of being this type of super hero is that I can actually make certain that the paper comes over the top-the right way, and NOT from underneath. (i.e.-the totally wrong way)</div>
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It's a tough job. I think I'm going to get a cape soon. </div>
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<br />Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-67286562717904708312013-02-24T20:23:00.001-06:002013-02-24T20:23:09.680-06:00Addicted to PinterestYeah, I know. Who isn't?? <br />
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I didn't used to be. I thought <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a> was for people that did not have enough to do, those that would "pin" cool ideas and never do any of them. <br />
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Then we had this whole moving thing. And that included a house hunt. And a house purchase. And when you purchase a house instead of building it yourself, there are things that you really want to change. Like the hideous bookcase in my non tv holding living room. Fugly. And I have no idea what to do with that thing. <br />
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But house design ideas aren't the only thing on Pinterest. There are recipes, funny jokes, crafty stuff, goofy photos, and fashion designs (although I didn't see any specifically for the sport of dog agility. I suspect those folks haven't totally hit the Pinterest rage just yet. Or, there is no such thing as a fashion following for dog agility. That's totally possible too.) <br />
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After becoming a Pinterest follower, I read some pins about how to make the perfect sweet tea. Mr. P likes sweet tea and his mother makes one that would curl your hair or send you straight to the medical doctor to see if you've immediately contracted diabetes. <br />
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Since we're in the South now, it only seemed fitting that I whip up a batch of sweet tea. I followed this <a href="http://www.thecountrycook.net/2011/01/blogs-aint-easy-to-set-up-and-some.html" target="_blank">recipe</a> from Pinterest. After all, if it's on Pinterest, it MUST be totally awesome-right??<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGgiEyZ2rdc/USrJMvo3zEI/AAAAAAAAAk4/fCn79Ws1CEQ/s1600/184ec5769c8e5b16123172b303fb6bcb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGgiEyZ2rdc/USrJMvo3zEI/AAAAAAAAAk4/fCn79Ws1CEQ/s320/184ec5769c8e5b16123172b303fb6bcb.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/56154326575382477/" target="_blank">Source</a></td></tr>
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I have to say. This stuff is good. Really good. I have to say though, you need to wait for it to be cold or <b>totally</b> chilled in the fridge. Trust me, it's worth the wait. And maybe next time, not quite so much sugar. There is a lot. But, dang, it's tasty. I chalk this up to a total Pinterest success!!! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5CFSCROzOkA/USrKiv4g6-I/AAAAAAAAAlA/Eb-zx5C7eEU/s1600/photo-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5CFSCROzOkA/USrKiv4g6-I/AAAAAAAAAlA/Eb-zx5C7eEU/s320/photo-1.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chillin' in the fridge with the blueberries, eggs and strawberries!</td></tr>
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Oh and a Pinterest warning-- if you find a pin that mentions using household glue (or in my case I might have used wood glue because technically it's non toxic and in my house, thus making it "household") to remove oil deposits and shrink pores on your nose, it will work but you'll also be missing a few layers of skin. Just saying-a Pinterest FAIL. (but it seemed like such a good idea at the time-right?)<br />
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So the verdict is in-Pinterest is some good, some bad. And even with the good and the bad, I still have NO IDEA what to do with that stupid tv space in my fugly living room book case. Grrr..... Any suggestions??<br />
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<br />Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-72870651416549865562013-02-19T19:22:00.003-06:002013-02-19T19:22:40.423-06:00Meeting the neighbors. We've been spending a few days meeting our new neighbors. Neighbors are new to us as we only had one back in Minnesota and we couldn't see his house at all. He did a rockin' job playing the drums though...<div>
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Bunker was the first to meet the neighbors behind us. We've nicknamed them Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner-respectively. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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And then there was this little party crasher. Not cool. The first (and could I hope that it's the last?) scorpion I've ever seen. After this photo, I smashed him into a zillion pieces. It wasn't anything that he did, but he's not welcome at my place. Maybe at the neighbors behind us, perhaps?</div>
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We have some human neighbors that seem super nice. There are lots of dogs in this neighborhood, and I haven't decided if that's a positive thing or not. Just because you have a dog doesn't mean you have a clue about dogs. I assume the same could be said with children. Just sayin'</div>
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Mulligan has been helping my unpack. Apparently packing paper is super comfy. </div>
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Happy Tuesday!<br />
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Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-23687709605191261212013-02-13T15:22:00.001-06:002013-02-13T15:22:57.762-06:00Y'all ready for this?I know it's been a zillion years since I last blogged. Almost eight months as a matter of fact. Eeek. That's like light years to the blogging world. I've probably had my blog card revoked by now. Those who blog all the time are scoffing at my willy nilly slacker bogging ways. Well, guess what? I'm baaaack!! <br />
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What's happened in the last eight months? Um, I didn't have a baby. (sorry mom, no grandkids here, only puppies. Much to her dismay)<br />
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1. I joined a golf league. I rock at golf. Or maybe that's in my dreams. Still, I suspect that all the golf balls I hit into the water will somehow help the enviroment and save the world single handedly. These were my golf buddies:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sjjRL6lvOQM/URv-KB_oIXI/AAAAAAAAAiA/UK--5GrPwyM/s1600/IMG_1537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sjjRL6lvOQM/URv-KB_oIXI/AAAAAAAAAiA/UK--5GrPwyM/s320/IMG_1537.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Obviously not golfing here, but before this...</td></tr>
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2. Bunker got his MACH back in September. It's a big deal and he gets a big ribbon and you run around the agility ring with a piece of PVC pipe that everyone signs and you cherish it forever. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CPqgrc0xYIM/URv9QGWSnMI/AAAAAAAAAh4/F8HAAn86PhY/s1600/MACH+Bunker+print.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CPqgrc0xYIM/URv9QGWSnMI/AAAAAAAAAh4/F8HAAn86PhY/s320/MACH+Bunker+print.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Master Agility Champion Bunker. Feel free to call him Master for short.</td></tr>
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<br />3. My brother showed up with some car that didn't look like much but would go so fast it'd make you look like you just came from a facelift. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ACa0bJMDvzQ/URv_vno5GzI/AAAAAAAAAiM/jTlPwVXjmqQ/s1600/IMG_1508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ACa0bJMDvzQ/URv_vno5GzI/AAAAAAAAAiM/jTlPwVXjmqQ/s320/IMG_1508.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. P giving me Jazz Hands. (I think)</td></tr>
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4. I went horse back riding. His name was Charlie Rocket, but I liked to call him Charlie Tango, just because...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F0B7_R7mNvY/URwALgwqJqI/AAAAAAAAAiU/kcyBSTfLhoI/s1600/IMG_1627.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F0B7_R7mNvY/URwALgwqJqI/AAAAAAAAAiU/kcyBSTfLhoI/s320/IMG_1627.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a bad view.<br /></td></tr>
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<br />5. Mr. P and I went to the Purdue/Ohio State football game in Columbus. It didn't fare well for the black and gold....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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6. Decided to enter Bunker into the local Discdog competition on a whim. He rocked it. </div>
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7. Mulligan lost an eye to cancer. We're just happy to have the rest of him and he's doing great. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CzoaSSXNczM/URwBYoWmX4I/AAAAAAAAAi4/wNw0szeqNLk/s1600/IMG_1681.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CzoaSSXNczM/URwBYoWmX4I/AAAAAAAAAi4/wNw0szeqNLk/s320/IMG_1681.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's got his eye on you.</td></tr>
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8. I had my first experience at an oxygen bar...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FVY4WdmmM6Y/URwBzgrLtOI/AAAAAAAAAjA/LiVtwquyrg8/s1600/IMG_1732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FVY4WdmmM6Y/URwBzgrLtOI/AAAAAAAAAjA/LiVtwquyrg8/s320/IMG_1732.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lily and I are high on O. </td></tr>
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9. Mr. P and I moved to Texas. Yep, you read that right. From Texas to MN. I drove in one car with two dogs and a cat and Mr. P drove in the other car with one dog and a bag of beef jerky. I'm still waiting for my license to come through down here, so thus time to blog now. That and I'm tired of unpacking boxes. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x6hyx5Bw_Rk/URwC0vZ8uyI/AAAAAAAAAjI/m7qnLPGZcqc/s1600/IMG_1829.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x6hyx5Bw_Rk/URwC0vZ8uyI/AAAAAAAAAjI/m7qnLPGZcqc/s320/IMG_1829.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smoke the Cat ready for travel!</td></tr>
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10. Mr. P and I had our 10 year anniversary! Yep, 10 years of him putting up with me!<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aGHuddMZQJE/URwDuYHKlGI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/gsa7s5rBMcI/s1600/IMG_1851.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aGHuddMZQJE/URwDuYHKlGI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/gsa7s5rBMcI/s320/IMG_1851.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two people full of love and steak. (it's Texas after all)</td></tr>
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<br />There's the brief run down of the last eight months. Did I leave some stuff out? Yep, you betcha! But hopefully I'll be able to fill you in on more of our big adventures soon! </div>
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Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-81197732459857904582012-06-20T21:56:00.001-05:002012-06-20T21:56:13.627-05:00what's there to blog about??Why does it feel like a zillion years has past since I blogged last? I haven't blogged because I've been busy and because for some odd reason I feel like I should have something earth shattering or at least mentally deep to write about. And sometimes you just really don't need to know what's going on in this head. No really, you don't want to know. <br />
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Anywho--I went recently found a bunch of photos and realized that:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GXe1kylmrA8/T-KKoifVltI/AAAAAAAAAgw/KbLDZptwMgI/s1600/IMG_1079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GXe1kylmrA8/T-KKoifVltI/AAAAAAAAAgw/KbLDZptwMgI/s320/IMG_1079.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">laying in the grass with your puppers is awesome.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cally has this thing for sitting on the step</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tHOKSVL_-98/T-KLLMMVhdI/AAAAAAAAAhA/33_YBJWCnBg/s1600/IMG_1174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tHOKSVL_-98/T-KLLMMVhdI/AAAAAAAAAhA/33_YBJWCnBg/s320/IMG_1174.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Puppies are like siblings and will only touch each other on accident and only barely at that</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">it's handy to have someone help you garden</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my brother's cell phone is almost the size of a calculator</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FQrWozN_5Fg/T-KMBXmG5fI/AAAAAAAAAhY/lEOGW-bQONM/s1600/IMG_1256_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FQrWozN_5Fg/T-KMBXmG5fI/AAAAAAAAAhY/lEOGW-bQONM/s320/IMG_1256_2.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I golf with jolly rancher wrappers in my shoes</td></tr>
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I'm sure there's some deep stuff there somewhere. I'll let you find it if you dare....<br /><br /></div>Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-25638006255715639282012-06-07T21:00:00.000-05:002012-06-07T21:00:37.003-05:00National Day of Running Fail (aka the foot post)Yesterday was the national day of running. I had every intention of going for a run yesterday morning. I got up early and put on my little running skirt, my sunscreen, grabbed my iPod and was totally set. Until I put my shoes on. I don't have new shoes, in fact the pair I have still have some mile to go before I trade them in. Can you do that? If not, you should be able to do that. Just like cars. At least give me a portion of my purchase price back-right??<br />
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Anyway, there was obviously nothing wrong with my shoes, but rather my feet. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RLP3cl35duA/T9FXgbjWU1I/AAAAAAAAAgg/V1qfS3tCihs/s1600/IMG_1363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RLP3cl35duA/T9FXgbjWU1I/AAAAAAAAAgg/V1qfS3tCihs/s320/IMG_1363.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do you know how hard it is to take a picture of the back of your feet?</td></tr>
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I played golf the night before where I shot a "Paula low record" of 53, (look for me on tour soon-or not) and I had on my golf sandals that gave me two beautiful blisters on the back of my heels. So when I put my tenny runners on-it hurt like H-E-double hockey sticks. I did the ol' <a href="http://didyougetanyofthat.blogspot.com/2012/04/blister-care.html">XLMIC</a> trick of popping them and doing the band aid thing, but I really didn't want to chance ripping up my tender skin any more than it was already massacred. The biggest reason was because I'm running the pups this weekend and I didn't want to be all gimpy on the course. I totally failed at running on the national day of running. Kudos to those of you who went out and rocked it-I'm proud of you!<br />
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I did want to get a work out in though. I hoped that if I did some biking, it wouldn't bother my blistered bunny feet. My clip shoes made me aware that I had some tender areas but seemed ok enough, so I took Eeyore out for a jaunt. The toughest part was that I'd put 13.5 miles on the day before (yes and golfed on the same day-'cause I'm crazy like that) in a mere 47 minutes. (you do the math to figure out my pace-I'm not gonna tell!) So to ride bike a second day was tough on my trashed legs, (because running wouldn't be?) but at least my feet didn't hurt! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YFpNb5uEABQ/T9FXPvSascI/AAAAAAAAAgY/6EXhgBjtwJQ/s1600/IMG_1360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YFpNb5uEABQ/T9FXPvSascI/AAAAAAAAAgY/6EXhgBjtwJQ/s320/IMG_1360.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eeyore left a love mark</td></tr>
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The other reason I need my feet to be back to normal is because of my newest acquisition. My friend Pammy held a gun to my head (for real-right there in the store-it was shocking!) and MADE me buy these--<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xK-gPQbs0x8/T9FXBHId2DI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/UT-mbnnw4yY/s1600/IMG_1354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xK-gPQbs0x8/T9FXBHId2DI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/UT-mbnnw4yY/s320/IMG_1354.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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They're completely impractical, and totally abnormal for my foot wear choices (minus one pair of leopard heels). I LOVE them. Plus when I wear them, I'm taller than Mr. P-hee hee. I was feeling a little silly about the buying these crazy FMP's but I've decided that-(those of you who are related to me may want to close your eyes here and stop reading now)- I'm going to wear them as lingerie. Actually I informed the sales guy my intention of boudoir footwear and he just laughed. As I walked away, he said "I hope your husband enjoys your new shoes!" Seriously? How could he not? <br /></div>Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-11318492186053516682012-05-31T17:30:00.002-05:002012-05-31T17:30:32.964-05:00Our UPS guy is cooler than yours....<br />Like I mentioned before, we get lots of packages delivered here. Yesterday was no exception. Peter, our super cool UPS guy showed up at about six thirty last night. I'm not sure what kind of crazy route this guy has, but he's often at our place later in the day like that. I always secretly hope it's his last stop before home. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uh7Iuh-4PGk/T8fvIAxs89I/AAAAAAAAAf8/HbWT2sc0dXI/s1600/ups.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uh7Iuh-4PGk/T8fvIAxs89I/AAAAAAAAAf8/HbWT2sc0dXI/s320/ups.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not Peter's truck, but you get the idea...<br /></td></tr>
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I was outside, just getting ready to take Bunker for his evening walk/bark-a-thon when the loud brown truck pulled in the driveway. I don't know about you, but my dogs have a love/hate relationship with the UPS truck. I haven't decided if it's because they don't like the way the truck sounds or if it's because Peter usually (ok-always) has dog treats in his pocket. <br />
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It was a heavy delivery yesterday, and when Peter came out of the truck with the sixty pound box his brown shorts were <i>soaked</i>. He was completely soaked from the waist down. He explained that there was a car accident about a mile from our house. I had heard sirens about twenty minutes before Peter showed up, so I'm assuming that's where they'd went. A car had flipped and landed in the river. I run and bike past this river multiple times a week and I know the water is very high right now. Someone had called 911 but didn't go into the river to check for the driver. Peter went into the river and checked on the driver before emergency vehicles even got there. Upon arrival of emergency medical services and with the situation under control, Peter then went about his day just like normal, delivered my packages and continued on his route. As if what he'd done was no big deal. Sadly, the driver of the car didn't survive. The car must have been there for a little while because Peter told me that when he checked on it, the muffler was barely warm. It's not a popular road and if you were driving one direction it's possible that you wouldn't have even seen the car in the river. That's just sad. I offered him a blanket, (that water couldn't have been warm) but he declined and acted as if it's just something he does every day, like it was no big deal. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k_lKykC0N10/T8fwaYGqaII/AAAAAAAAAgE/LyZ-YrlLgUQ/s1600/Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k_lKykC0N10/T8fwaYGqaII/AAAAAAAAAgE/LyZ-YrlLgUQ/s320/Image.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This custom drawing looks exactly like him.<br />He carries heavy boxes, his shorts were wet and he has no hair. <br />Totally accurate. </td></tr>
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To me it is a big deal. I'm not sure how to let UPS know that they have a super hero type employee but I'm going to see I can contact them. They should know. Not everyone would have done what Peter did. (although I wish they would) Obviously my UPS guy is the coolest ever. Eat your hearts out people, he's ours.Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-27317309222074148762012-05-28T20:20:00.002-05:002012-05-28T20:20:43.076-05:00Ribbons and fire.Happy Memorial Day! Thank you to all the service people (and animals) for all that you do to make this such an awesome country! I love my freedom! <br />
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We had a good weekend. Why? We went to the BOTC agility trial. I love this show. This was the very first agility show that I went to with Cally and Bunker. It used to held outside in a park and I was <b>terrified</b> of running Cally in an outdoor show without a fenced ring. Flat out terrified. (she used to flip me the paw and take off) I still remember our jumpers run. (I have it on tape too somewhere) We didn't qualify but I was <b>thrilled</b>. She stayed with me the entire time. I was so happy that I started crying. The funny thing was that I'd asked a guy to tape the run for me and he thought I was crying because I was upset. Typical man-totally not getting it. (and NO-it wasn't Mr. P-just an agility friend) Mr. P would have totally understood. Totally. He's cool like that. Or well trained. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kTVe7fDwOwY/T8Qh-BNn2WI/AAAAAAAAAfg/o0VulYr3HvU/s1600/Image+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kTVe7fDwOwY/T8Qh-BNn2WI/AAAAAAAAAfg/o0VulYr3HvU/s320/Image+2.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cally sticking her head out of her crate for a photo op.</td></tr>
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We always run well at <a href="http://www.botcmn.org/">BOTC</a>. <b>Always</b>. Maybe that's why I love it. Maybe not. Maybe it's because I'm reminded of how far we've come, or because when we're there we seem to just run with simple joy in our hearts. (sounds cheesy but it's true) I don't know. Bunker had a perfect day on Saturday, thusly (isn't that a fun word?) qualifying him for the 2013 AKC agility nationals. Cally had good runs, but she was "sticky." I think it was because it was storming like crazy and the thunder was shaking the building. She just wasn't herself. I may need to look at getting her a <a href="http://www.thundershirt.com/">thunder shirt</a>. (they do work by the way) Sunday had good runs but only one Q (that's agility slang for qualifying run-Q). Today we went three out of four and a double Q (or QQ) for the C-dog. Considering it was a mere five weeks ago that I was all upset about going two out of fourteen in Sioux Falls, I'd say this was great improvement. <br />
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But (why is there always a but?) during our runs today I got a text from Mr. P. The local paper mill had an explosion. UUUgh. That's not cool. I used to work not very far from there and knew/worked on people that worked there. It's the kind of thing that instantly makes you sick to your stomach. How can you celebrate something when other people might be dead or injured? I decided all I could do was pray. I heard that one person was declared dead and four are injured. I continue to pray for them and their families. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yhvDksuwSYo/T8QfaNOEHpI/AAAAAAAAAfY/prC7tThOvLE/s1600/sartell_aerial.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yhvDksuwSYo/T8QfaNOEHpI/AAAAAAAAAfY/prC7tThOvLE/s320/sartell_aerial.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.kare11.com/news/article/977566/391/1-dead-4-injured-in-Sartell-paper-mill-fire">Source</a></td></tr>
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<br />Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-10079857599172033542012-05-24T07:19:00.003-05:002012-05-24T07:19:27.238-05:00Not really the classy kinda gal...I got a text last night from my friend Shannon. She teaches various work out classes at the community center exactly twelve minutes from my house. I've used the whole, "I just got home from work, need to spend time with the dogs" line all these years to not go to one of her classes. Well, that and the fact that some of the classes <b>were</b> during my working hours. But yesterday was one of those days where I didn't get any kind of workout in, unless you count giving glaring looks at people that maybe don't have a drivers license but were still driving on the interstate. I got a good glaring workout there. I did managed to keep my hands to myself though. (pretty proud of that) Somedays I'd like to put the definition of MERGE on my car. But I'm sure I'd get a ticket for distracting someone while they were texting, eating and putting on their mascara. Heaven forbid. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZA-D8kxN204/T74jEDIT-9I/AAAAAAAAAfA/90YdZakMymE/s1600/15844_1170659185066_1185594243_472739_491045_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZA-D8kxN204/T74jEDIT-9I/AAAAAAAAAfA/90YdZakMymE/s320/15844_1170659185066_1185594243_472739_491045_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shannon in all her glory!<br />I have the classiest friends! :)</td></tr>
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Shannon gave me the "it'll be fun!" text, so I figured "why not?" Mr. P cringes when I say that to him. Whenever I throw out the "it'll be fun!" line, he goes and ups the life insurance. Go figure.<br />
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I was trying to think of the last time I was at an exercise class. I've got nothing. Not that I haven't ever been to a gym, but an actually class?? Nope. I remember one yoga class that I did one time back in the early 2000's but other than that......nada. So what does a gal bring to one of these workout classes? I've never even been to the facility. Do I bring a change of clothes? Do I shower there? Do I need a lock for a locker? Sooo many questions, so little time. After a mad texting exchange (who really talks on the phone anyway?) it was determined that all I needed was me (got that), water, and a yoga mat if I wanted (got that too). <br />
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The class is called HIT or high intensity training. Mr. P reminded me that Shannon's husband has never, ever called one of her classes "fun" and made Shannon promise that she'd drag my lifeless body home if she killed me. Whatever. For some reason, that makes a woman just want to show up and kick a$$. (what is wrong with us?) <br />
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I found the class. It was tough. I walked the door and said, "I need to find Shannon's class." The delightful nineteen year old behind the desk just pointed to a room. It was a piece of cake. Big sigh of relief from me.<br />
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Upon entering the room (which might have been a million degrees to begin with) I noticed three or four other gals getting their "stations" all set up. Crap. You need props for this class?? I'm not super coordinated with props. I'm convinced in some dimension, they actually bite. They all had those aerobic stair step thingys, jump ropes, free weights, resistance bands, exercise balls, mats, water and of course, their yoga mats. Just me taking that inventory alone had me standing there like a crazy person absorbing what all nine of us (eventually) would be doing for "fun" for the next hour. <br />
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I will say this. I'm not coordinated, and the class was good. I know I'm that girl that does everything the exact opposite of the rest of the class. The gal that is one step off. I did smile when I realized that I wasn't the only one. I had a fellow out of sync-er just a mere one station away. Hee hee. We will unite and conquer the world some day. I also can't seem to jump rope for anything. It's not the cardio that was the issue, it was the actual swinging of the rope that seemed to be an issue. Whatever. Shannon was the only one that knew me there. Some of the moves we did I KNOW were from P90X and it brought back evil flashbacks of those days. (I might have wanted to take Tony out a time or two)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SBJxbOZhZWo/T74l9cE7y6I/AAAAAAAAAfM/pQFT39T5g3U/s1600/fe_tonyhorton.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SBJxbOZhZWo/T74l9cE7y6I/AAAAAAAAAfM/pQFT39T5g3U/s1600/fe_tonyhorton.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.beachbody.com/">source</a><br />I'll take Shannon over Tony any day. He's just annoying. </td></tr>
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I found this to be interesting about the workout itself, my legs never strained. Obviously they're strong from all the running, biking and rollerblading. It was good cardio. My heart rate got up there. It illuminated areas that I'm weak in, such as core (what is that?) and arms, but not to the point where I can't move today, which is good because I've got stuff to do today. Moving IS one of them. <br />
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The biggest question is will I go back? I'm not sure. I'm not really a "classy" kind of person. (duh) I like the whole "we're in this together" feeling, but do I need an actual class? If I look at the full body workout, I really should go back. At least once a week. I could keep doing my other "stuff" the rest of the week. Hmmmm. I need to think about this one. It might be fun. :)<br />
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Do you do exercise classes? What happens if you don't? Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-33432543827704367172012-05-22T20:12:00.000-05:002012-05-22T20:12:06.827-05:00Happy Birthday Mr. P!Today is Mr. P's birthday. He's another year older. How so you spend your 38th birthday if you're Mr. P? <br />
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First, you get little to no sleep the night before because you're partying like a rock star and worried about being a year older. Or maybe it's because you're sleeping in a hotel because you're out of town and just can't seem to sleep well in hotels. It's one or the other-you pick. <br />
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Then you have to spend the day doing "businessy" stuff (we don't really know what Mr. P does and as long has he's happy-we don't care). <br />
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Because it's your birthday, you manage to catch an early flight home. Whoop whoop! Home. We like home. <br />
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When you pull into the driveway, your super beautiful wife is sitting on the front porch and your three totally awesome labradors RUN to greet you. (could there BE a better birthday??) <br />
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You eat your Subway dinner while watching the squeaky shoe game on tv (and your super cool wife doesn't even complain about it). You also notice that she's SLAVED for hours in the kitchen and made you your favorite birthday cake. Chocolate with white buttercream icing. Because she loves you. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ANrdRMRZ3r8/T7w4iiEEb-I/AAAAAAAAAe0/6bVjqbdYZ8c/s1600/photo-4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ANrdRMRZ3r8/T7w4iiEEb-I/AAAAAAAAAe0/6bVjqbdYZ8c/s320/photo-4.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo evidence of actual chocolate cake with white icing. </td></tr>
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You then realize that you're the luckiest man on the <b>entire</b> <b>planet</b> and know that any birthday wish that you might make couldn't even compare to all your wishes that have already come true. <br />
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Happy Birthday Mr. P!Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-40375550225782442842012-05-13T22:29:00.000-05:002012-05-13T22:29:05.883-05:00Mother's Day Puppy StyleYou totally thought I was going to call this post doggie style didn't you?? Don't think I didn't think about that.... <br />
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My super great doggy mother's day included special gifts from my fur babies like this:<br />
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<ul>
<li>The gift of sleeping in until 6am-a total treat. (<i>might</i> of had something to do with us being out with friends carousing all hours of the night, but still)</li>
<li>Bunker gave me the gift of quality play time. Oh right, he always wants to play. Whatever, I'm pretty sure todays play time was extra special. </li>
<li>Cally gave me the give of working on the landscaping. She's available for hire-just in case you were wondering. </li>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HssTg53WzXk/T7BYSSR401I/AAAAAAAAAeg/I3hBgNbJrBQ/s1600/Image+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HssTg53WzXk/T7BYSSR401I/AAAAAAAAAeg/I3hBgNbJrBQ/s320/Image+1.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cally's new landscape design has a lovely earth feature where the plants are UNDER the dirt. </td></tr>
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<ul>
<li>Mulligan gave me an awesome gift too. We went for a walk and his knee didn't make a single sound. After almost six weeks of worrying about that knee, today was the first day that it seemed like we're on the right track. Finally!! </li>
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Happy Mother's Day!</div>
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<br />Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-21048733500546081882012-05-01T21:29:00.003-05:002012-05-01T21:29:45.241-05:00Photo FailSo I've been a bit lax in the whole blogging department-I know. Even Mr. P says he reads the blog just so he knows what's going on with me. You'd think he'd know what is going on since we live under the same roof, but apparently not. <br />
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The pups and I spent some time in the basement tonight thanks to the local tornado warning. I don't ever have to worry about not hearing the siren because the dogs think it's a howl-along-athong. I especially appreciate the first Wednesday of every month (which happens to be tomorrow) at 1:00pm when they test the sirens. It's a treat. But, so far, so good, only some heavy rain, no tornados. I say we keep it that way. <br />
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I found out that the local (and I use the word loosely-it's more like an hour one way if you drive five miles over the posted speed limit) place where we usually get dog food is having a little contest. Do you know how some dogs smile? Yeah it's cute. And the dog food place is having a contest. If you send in a picture of your dog smiling <i>and</i> if the store people (employees?) vote that your dog has the best smile then you win a $50 gift card to that store. Sounds great, right?? I'm thinking we could totally benefit from an extra $50 towards hound chow. <br />
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<i>AND</i> we have one dog that "smiles." Mulligan will smile. But it's not a normal smile. That would be silly. Are any of my dogs normal? What fun would that be?? His smile is really more about showing the front teeth. He doesn't to it all the time, but if it's someone he really likes then he'll smile at them when he first sees them. (yes, he'll smile for me-thank you for asking) After that, the excitement must wain because he doesn't smile again. I'm pretty sure that's the first time I've ever used the word wain, FYI. It makes me feel all grown up and stuff. <br />
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Since I'm a winner, winner, chicken dinner kind of gal, I thought I could totally get a picture of my furry face showing off his unique smile and send it in for the contest. Every employee and every person around the nation would be mesmerized by his super cool personality and we'd wander home with the cool $50 gift card. Easy Peasy. Who couldn't use a $50 gift card right? Oh, well, I guess if you didn't have pets then you probably wouldn't need it. But I digress. I got my camera out and mostly ready and waited until Mr. P came home. I knew Mully would smile for him. I got a couple of pictures. He's a hard one to get. You'd think an eleven year old wouldn't move that fast, but he can if he really wants to! <br />
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Do you see what I see? Yeah, that's what I thought. He looks psycho. Kinda "Cujo"-ish really. I love this hunk of fur more than anything but really?? Why hadn't I noticed this before?? No wonder some people ask about him when he smiles at them.</div>
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I'm thinking I won't be sending this pretty pics in after all. So much for that great idea....maybe if they have a rabid look alike dog contest.....sigh. It's ok Mulligan, I still love you. Crazy smile and all. <br />
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<br />Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-20705545052154563692012-04-22T13:11:00.001-05:002012-04-22T13:11:55.244-05:00Randoms from last week...1. I thought I broke Mulligan a couple (?) of weeks ago when he did some agility equipment and then started limping. He'd limp and then be better and then go really lame again. It was the leg he had his ACL surgery on. I thought for sure I broke him. He went to the doggy chiropractor (don't judge) and he has a muscle strain but should be ok. His knee is ok. I didn't break my dog <i>too</i> badly...so we think for right now...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mulligan does his "flat Stanley" imitation. </td></tr>
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2. We get lots of deliveries here. This means lots of UPS and Fed Ex trucks. A certain yellow dog who remain unnamed (Cally) not only jumped into the Fed Ex truck, she ran around the inside of the truck like a lunatic <b>and</b> <b>ate</b> the drivers Doritos. That's my finely trained dog-except I did not train her to do that-honest. Maybe she learned it from Mr. P? Maybe he'll keep the door shut next time. She hopes not. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken moments after the Fed Ex truck incident. Doesn't she look innocent?</td></tr>
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3. Since I quit my day job I've been busy with my dog business and watching Days of Our Lives (twice). You didn't know I had a dog business? Surprise-I do. It just so happens that I've been a canine massage therapist for two years. (google it-we really exist) I've also developed an all natural flea, tick and bug spray for dogs called NatuRepel. (it can be used on people too if your dog will share) I'm thrilled with how well it works because we live in freaking ticksville. If you're interested in doing a blog review, have any questions or want to purchase, hop on over to <a href="http://www.abalancedk9.com/">A Balanced K9</a> and let me know.<br />
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4. I talked with two grown men on Friday and they both had to get off the phone because they had to pee. (you know who you are) I'm just thankful they didn't decide to multi-task. Really thankful. <br />
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5. This isn't last week, but today I had a great five mile run. It was spitting rain but not to terrible, so I headed out. It felt great. For some reason last week was crazy and even though I got two workouts in, I felt like this:<br />
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Here's to a great week ahead! Happy Earth Day!Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-69949108525095734372012-04-16T21:20:00.001-05:002012-04-16T21:20:58.171-05:00I'm a terrible quitterBunker, Cally and I went to Sioux Falls, South Dakota this past weekend for an agility trial. We were in one about two weeks ago that went really well. Really, really well. This weekend-not so much. <br />
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We had a total of fourteen runs and only qualified on three of them. That's less than ideal. Wayyy less than ideal in my world. Now, don't get me wrong, both dogs ran well. Really well. Bunker's jumping was phenomenal and Cally was always a pistol. There was just one thing that seemed to go wrong on each run. At our level, if you're not perfect, you're not going to qualify. We're also at the level where we need not only one, but two perfect runs per day. No pressure or anything. <br />
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Having such an imperfect weekend is discouraging. You start trying to figure out whether it's worth it to keep trying. You look at the entry fees, the cost of travel, hotel and food and try to decide if it's worth it for only three q's (q is slang for qualifying score in the agility world) out of fourteen runs. <br />
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Yesterday I decided I was going to quit doing agility. I was just so frustrated with the outcome of this trial. Good runs that weren't "good enough." Someone said to me this weekend that those of us who do agility have a problem. Our problem is that we just don't have enough sense to quit. We just keep going, because we know that the next run <i>might</i> be the run of utter dog and handler perfection. The run where every contact gets hit in the yellow, every bar stays up, every weave pole is done and every tunnel gets entered the correct way. It's some kind of freaky addiction. My decision to stop doing agility lasted a whopping three hours. When I was on the road home, I knew I wouldn't quit. I knew that today I'd be sending in entries for upcoming shows. <br />
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I also recognized some of the holes we had in our training. Things we will work on so we can <b>rock</b> the next trial. I'm a terrible quitter....<br />
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<br />Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-79343317006907637482012-04-11T20:28:00.000-05:002012-04-11T20:28:13.642-05:00Wednesday BlissIt's Wednesday and I got to spend it doing this:<br />
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</tbody></table>Ok- that picture wasn't taken today, but I wore that sweatshirt today so I thought I should use this picture. Plus it makes me smile because Cally isn't paying any attention to me here and my hair is just plain sexy. I mean, <i><b>really</b></i> <b>sexy</b> and once you add in the super hot sweatshirt-oh baby. It's no wonder Mr. P can't keep his hands off me. (Although he did mention something about burning my sweatshirt this morning because he's sick of looking at it...) Agility is so glamorous. <br />
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<div>And this:</div><div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ok- I didn't do this, Bunker did this. He's cute and I'd be silly to not include a picture of his bliss today. He doesn't ever have to worry about how his hair looks. Maybe he worries about how his ears flap? Nah, I doubt it-he's a guy. They don't worry about stuff like that...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Happy Wednesday! :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-66474044903298537992012-04-07T22:06:00.000-05:002012-04-07T22:06:27.903-05:00A Sign of the Future?The other day I mentioned that when I rode Eeyore (my bike-for those of you with super short term memories and can't remember the name of my totally awesome two wheel pedal bike that lives in my dining room) my "sits" bones would get super sore. They weren't because I wear see through tights-that has nothing to do with it, at least I don't think it does. One would think that my large gluteus maximus would be padded enough to withstand a bike ride to the moon and back, but I guess not. <br />
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So, I ordered some padded bike shorts. My friend Amy(who does all things TRI) told me that the <a href="http://www.terrybicycles.com/">Terry</a> brand was the best way to go. I found them online and totally dig the stuff they have. Since I quit my day job (newsflash-since I've hardly told anyone) and have all this extra time, I'm thinking I could go on their <a href="http://www.terrybicycles.com/2012-Wild-Goose-Chase">wild goose chase</a> bike ride. Bunker likes to chase geese, maybe I would too. I've never tried it. Because I'm frugal, (not <i>cheap</i>-there <b>is</b> a difference) I found another site that had the same Terry shorts but for less shipped to my door. Yes folks, I'm a deal finder. Feel free to bask in my awesomeness. Or not-that's ok too.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now then, I've never worn padded shorts before. A padded bra-yes, but padding on my rear-never. Having no previous experience with this, I find them a bit, um, <i>strange</i>. I wonder if this is what it's going to feel like when I'm in the geriatric stages of my life? Is my plumbing going to give out at a certain age making padded bike shorts necessary for social interaction? People are always warning you about the future with things like "just wait until you get older!" Is that what they're talking about? I am hoping technology will have solved this whole "old age issue" thing by the time I get there. Paws <b>seriously</b> crossed on that one. Shudder. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As far as serving their biking purpose. They rock. Obviously I don't have any other brands to compare them to, but after seven miles today, my tuckus is happy, happy, happy. And that makes <b>me</b> happy, happy, happy! (and probably Eeyore too) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-91011585001189575112012-04-04T21:34:00.000-05:002012-04-04T21:34:26.541-05:00The mailbox project....We needed a new mailbox. <i>Somehow</i> ours got hit with my car. I was there. It literally <i><b>lunged</b></i> into my car, committing some type of mailbox suicide. Apparently I can't own a car without a scrape down the left side of it.... Sigh. Poor Gus. (that's my car-not my suicide committing mailbox) <br />
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</div><div>Because we're completely heartless human beings, we left the mailbox up after it decided to end it's life as a postal receptacle. In order to get the lid closed we had to use a sledgehammer to "ease" it back into a life like position. Even then, the strength of a giant and three small schoolboys was required to get it to shut. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Handy little thing...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After the hammer, you can imagine what it was like before. </td></tr>
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</div>The final decision to get a new mailbox happened the other week when I was rollerblading. <i>No</i>, I didn't run into the mailbox. (Thanks for the vote of confidence.) I witnessed our postal carrier trying to get the lid shut. I was sooooo embarrassed. I think she grunted as she slammed it shut. Probably because she pulled something in her arm. She was pulling away when noticed that the door didn't close with her herculean effort, so she backed up her car and tried again. I wanted to melt into my rollerblades. She was still courteous enough to wave with her now strength depleted arm. Uuugh. </div><div><br />
I will admit that in my 30-something years on this earth, (not 40 just yet!) I've never put up or changed a mailbox. While Mr. P was out of the house I got the new box and the new numbers and set to work. This shouldn't be so hard-should it?<br />
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Since I'm a bit anal retentive about some things, it's imperative that the numbers be on straight. I'm not sure why. I hardly ever look at the numbers on the mailbox. BUT in order for all the numbers to be straight, the first one must be straight. And I really didn't want to fail at this whole mailbox thing anyway. So I cracked out all the tools I knew to use. I had a level (my favorite and maybe a billion years old), a straight edge (aka-a piece of cardboard that was straight), a tape measure and a sharpie marker. I was set. <br />
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And NONE of those things helped me. The box curves just so and I don't know what else. In the end I just said "screw it" and eyeballed it. I have to admit, it turned out pretty good (not that I'm breaking my arm by patting myself on the back or anything.) But, at least the postal carrier hasn't complained yet! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, we are #1. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isn't it beauteous???</td></tr>
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</div>Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-76133184511934777022012-04-02T20:18:00.000-05:002012-04-02T20:18:56.254-05:00The Perfect Day...We had an awesome weekend. <br />
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I took Bunker and Cally to an agility trial. It's about an month and a half since we've done a trial. We only got in one day so we made the most of it! <br />
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Little Miss Cally-Josephina-Head had her fastest jumpers with weaves run EVER. She ran the course at a little over six yards per second. So much for getting slower as you get older!! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Weave 'em like you stole 'em!</td></tr>
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Not to be totally outdone, Mr. Bunker-Chunker had his second fastest jumpers with weaves run ever. He was a just a titch under six yards a second. He had such a great time! <br />
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After they properly annihilated the jumpers courses, Cally and Bunker both ripped up the standard courses. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's called a dog walk-not a dog RUN! </td></tr>
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Yes folks, we had four runs and four qualifying scores. In the world of agility, that's called a perfect day. How do we get soooo good that we have a perfect day after taking six weeks off? Well, we train just like my friend Will. Totally, exactly like him.... You can see his totally awesome training skills <a href="http://teamcoco.com/video/will-ferrell-dogs">here</a>....<br />
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In my world, it was a perfect day. Not because of the perfect scores from both pups, but because I got to spend quality time with them and see an awesome group of friends that I haven't seen in a while. <br />
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Here's to many more perfect days! Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-73565838467730669132012-03-27T21:44:00.000-05:002012-03-27T21:44:08.205-05:00Meet EeyoreSo at the end of my half marathon training I was really sick of running. Like, really sick of it. Run, Run, Run. It was like a never ending theme. Go figure. <br />
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Now, I'm glad I did it, and I've been out running a few times since then but newest latest and greatest obsession is my new buddy Eeyore. (I didn't name him-the guy at the bike shop did..who am I to argue?)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ElMEj46p2rk/T3J29ksUATI/AAAAAAAAAbg/eXUR1bTQ8Ik/s1600/IMG_0757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ElMEj46p2rk/T3J29ksUATI/AAAAAAAAAbg/eXUR1bTQ8Ik/s320/IMG_0757.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
No- Eeyore isn't the black dog-that's Mulligan. Eeyore is my new bike! And yes, I keep him in the dining room. Isn't that normal? <br />
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I'm excited. I haven't ridden a bike in a gazillion years. Not kidding. I <i>am</i> a gazillion and one years old. Mr. P has had a bike for a while and I'm so pumped to <strike>kick his butt</strike> ride with him! <br />
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We actually had the bikes out the other day. (And no, I didn't forget how to ride!) It was a nice chance for Eeyore and I to bond. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kzBUTM_iOro/T3J4TXqfu-I/AAAAAAAAAbo/_C03SA0qvL8/s1600/IMG_1031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kzBUTM_iOro/T3J4TXqfu-I/AAAAAAAAAbo/_C03SA0qvL8/s320/IMG_1031.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My brain is so important, it needs a bucket.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We still had some snow (which is gone now) but it was a sunny warm day. Mr. P informed me that you can totally see through the pants I was wearing. Is that why he was behind me the whole time, or was I faster than him from the start? And where else have I worn those??? <div><br />
</div><div>I hope Eeyore and I will have many great adventures. As soon as I buy some padded shorts (non-see through) or build up some callouses on my rumpus! </div><div><br />
</div><div>Oops, I lost my tail again..... :)<br />
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</div>Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7970503427420558889.post-41060770007179396892012-03-20T21:06:00.000-05:002012-03-20T21:06:58.887-05:00Signs, Signs, Everywhere A SignI love signs. Totally love them. Sometimes I wonder how many people actually <b>READ</b> the signs around them. There were some signs around St. John that kinda cracked me up. Yeah, yeah-I know, <i>enough</i> about St. John already. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2_-k8OwznyE/T2ky-JLXqEI/AAAAAAAAAas/LE2uab65Jl8/s1600/IMG_0977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2_-k8OwznyE/T2ky-JLXqEI/AAAAAAAAAas/LE2uab65Jl8/s320/IMG_0977.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I always wondered where the 16oz drink originated. Now I know. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UrGJt9nFNdA/T2k0kdLsBLI/AAAAAAAAAbM/f8INJQm6-6Y/s1600/IMG_0866.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UrGJt9nFNdA/T2k0kdLsBLI/AAAAAAAAAbM/f8INJQm6-6Y/s320/IMG_0866.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can decide if I took advantage of this offer or not! I'll never tell!<br />
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</tbody></table><br />
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</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">This one is my personal favorite: </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lBuYRiHHeCM/T2kzd28RVtI/AAAAAAAAAa8/qsm55yM3Y2c/s1600/IMG_1009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lBuYRiHHeCM/T2kzd28RVtI/AAAAAAAAAa8/qsm55yM3Y2c/s320/IMG_1009.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is one because of the other? OR ??</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div>Oh- and another great sign, this is the sign of the <a href="http://www.cruzbayhotel.com/hotel.html">Cruz Bay Boutique Hotel</a>. It's where we stayed on St. John. It's where you should stay on St. John. They're awesome. Enough said!</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U4kG5hnvSUs/T2k2JMpnOnI/AAAAAAAAAbU/SQluPjNdvTA/s1600/IMG_0921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U4kG5hnvSUs/T2k2JMpnOnI/AAAAAAAAAbU/SQluPjNdvTA/s320/IMG_0921.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pardon the photo-it was dark and with my phone</td></tr>
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</div><div>Do you have a favorite sign???<br />
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</div></div>Prickett Puppieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09534006865906851787noreply@blogger.com3