A Letter to My Roommate RE: Mondo

I'm going to visit my Mama next week. My Mama lives in Montana and for the first time in 11 years, despite visiting at least once a year, I will actually be taking a flight into Missoula.

Normally, I climb onto the Greyhound bus here in Portland, put on some headphones, and self-medicate my self into a 14 hour coma and hope to make it through to Missoula without being murdered by a bus riding hobo.

This year, due to a constrained schedule, flying is really the only option.

While I'm gone, my four-legged roommate Mondo will stay with AM and MK. Probably mostly AM since AM is the owner of Seeley, Mondo's best friend with benefits.

I decided to write this letter to AM as an instruction on how to properly care for Mondo, things beyond feeding him and offering fresh water.

Dear Sister Wife:

Thank you for being so magnanimous as to add the extra burden of Mondo to your already full days.

I realize you are fully aware of what Mondo needs as you see him on the daily, but there are few little unique quirks about Mondo that I thought you need to know.

1. His Busniess Interests - At night, don't be alarmed if you climb into bed and find bones stashed in your pillows. Mondo has a lucrative side career in Bone & Toy Acquisitions. He is aggressively growing his portfolio at the moment and I ask that you look the other way, as a favor to me,  when you realize his collection is mostly of toys you probably purchased for your own beast.

2. Your Business - Mondo is fully committed to assisting you in your bathroom regimen. He believes his observation of your use of the commode is vitally important to his existence. Additionally, please be aware that he will most likely recline in repose outside the shower while you bathe and then offer his services in Therapeutic Foot Bathing, something that requires him to lick your feet the instant you step out of the shower. While I realize Mondo is neither a gentleman nor an apostle, he will attempt to show his affection by licking your hands and feet. The only way to avoid this is to cut off your hands or feet, though I'm sure he will believe your arm and leg stumps are equally needy of his Therapeutic Bathing.

3. The Loo - Mondo remains semi-capable of going outside on his own to use the grass commode. I find that he is more inclined to use the restroom on his own when he knows that I am in my own bathroom and he can therefore run over to the basement window and observe my process through the non-frosted glass like a world class spy (or creepy peeper). I will neither confirm nor deny that in order to see me through the window, I must be using the bathroom with the door open. A lady likes her secrets. As I don't see that it would be efficient and beneficial for you to go to the basement to use the loo, he will have to make due with going on his own. This of course does not apply to when he wakes up and before he goes to bed. At that time, he must be escorted outside like a prisoner.

4. Conversational Needs - Mondo likes to be addressed as Booby Lou, occasionally as Mondo Pondo Pudding Pie, and rarely as GODDAMMIT MONDO! He likes it if you ask, "Do you want some breakfast? Are you ready for breakfast? Is it breakfast time?" before feeding him, this applies to morning and evening meals. If you could also tell him "You are kind, you are smart, you are important"  at least once a day, he would very much appreciate the ego boost. Any time you pick him up, please sing "I like big butts and I cannot lie" while you jiggle his butt fat. He also likes it if you pet his Buddha belly post meal and say "Do you have a baby in your belly?" Finally, any time you refer to Mondo in conversation with other humans, please refer to him as "Little Dude" if you mention him in fondness and "Dick Head" if you refer to him with rancour.

5. DIY - Mondo likes to assist in DIY projects and I like to encourage positive and creative enrichment for his mental and physical health. He especially excels at sleeping on fabric and eating the plastic heads of pin needles. Don't be alarmed if you find your recently sewn craft project in the back yard, that is his way of telling you your project is so beautiful, he wants to sneak onto your desk, grab the project in his teeth, and hide it outside.

6. Walks - If you take Mondo for a walk, feel free to simply walk him to the end of the street and back. I've found that Mondo is equally as excited by walking six blocks as he is of walking three miles. I apologize in advance for his barking. He doesn't like weird looking people, especially the hobos that sleep in the park.

I believe these guidelines will serve you well during your week of dog-sitting. Alternatively, ignore all of the above and just keep him alive.

Thanks again,

Bry

Old Bry looks nothing like New Bry, still acts the same.

The first thing I do when I wake up is reach for my phone to check my email. 

I've recently become obsessed with The Plaid Barn. Every day, The Plaid Barn posts one craft related item at a huge discount. They only sell one thing at a time and it is different every day. The posts go live on the east coast at 8am which means, depending on the item, it could be sold out by the time I wake up at 8am PST. 

And while I search for the day's deal, I get to wade through at least twenty junk emails. Like the one pictured below. 

While I realize it is the work of a complex set of algorithms and subtly planted cookies that Amazon knows to email me such things, it is more fun to imagine I'm on the their internal list of spinster customers.

I shudder to think of the things they would send me if I really did have cats. 

What Amazon doesn't know is that while I did Google search "pet strollers,"  it was so I could post a picture of one on Facebook as an example of what "rock bottom" is in pet ownership. Or at least that is what I keep telling myself. 

Truth is, I've always had a great love for pets. Here is some photographic evidence from my youth.

Two dogs, Mickey the wiener and Andy the poodle. I'm going to start a band called Poodles and Wieners. Or a burlesque show. I can't decide.

I always used to say "where is that picture of me double fisting two dogs?" until I realized that double fisting is something else. Please do yourself a favor and do not Google "double fisting." You can thank me later.

Clearly I have not out grown the double dog duty. There is Mondo and his frenemy, Rocky "The Rock" Johnson.

I realize that while I'm babbling on about dogs and double fisting, you are more concerned with the glasses I wore as a ten year-old. 

Take a look. Take it all in. This is Bry Hoeg at her best. I'm a dude.

Or how about this one? Classic. Don't be jealous. My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.

My true colors shining through.

I am the first to admit that I've turned into one of those people who treat their pet better than they treat themselves. It is not a secret in this blog (see examples here, here, or here) that Mondo is both amazing and awful all at the same time. 

One thing that Mondo does that really, really, really gets on my nerves is whine for his wifey at night. 

If I've abruptly ended Mondo and Seeley's play time, and gone down to the basement for the night, Mondo will get really upset once he realizes that it is a) not bed time, and b) he is sequestered from his love. If it is past 10pm, he usually just puts himself to bed while I read or craft or Internet (making verbs out of proper nouns, that's how I roll). 

The other night I was watching IK, an easy enough task as he was already asleep. I was sleeping on the couch in case he woke up, which meant that Mondo and Seeley got to stay up way past their bed time and it was as if they were two pre-teens at a slumber party. 

After getting up and yelling at them several times to knock it off ("it" being fighting, growling, running around the house), I finally took matters into my own hands. 

In my defense, I was really tired, it was after midnight. 

This might be me at my laziest and I'm not proud of myself. 

There was a broom standing behind the couch, a leftover pole from a couch fort I once built for IK . I grabbed the broom and reached out to break up the dog's rambunctious endeavors. 

Now had it been Mondo alone, it would've worked. But Seeley lacks the flight part of the fight or flight response. She immediately attacked the broom. 

And then turned into a robot. 

It was at the exact moment that I took her picture that I realized what a lazy hobo I actually am. And I could see her judging me.  

What is the laziest thing you've ever done? 

I bet I could top it. 

Ways in which I am a hobo #4867

I used to have glasses like this:

And then I got a dog. This is him.

One day Mondo ate my glasses while I was sleeping. 

So now I have new glasses and I look like this.

There is a bit more to the story than that and if you'd like to hear it, then read on. If you don't care about my new glasses, than you might be interested in this, instead.

I actually ordered these glasses last fall. I lost my job at Borders and was about to lose my health care. I wanted to use my eye care benefits because glasses are expensive, yo!

I went to an eye doctor, who was very pleasant, and then ordered the glasses. After spending an hour trying to pick out some frames, I finally (apparently) settled on some brown tortoiseshell frames.

Then the eye tech told me about much the glasses cost. And I sort of lost my mind. Like my entire brain dibbled out the side of my head and instead of saying. "Oh. You know, perhaps I should pick out some more affordable frames," I said, "Okay, sounds great. Here is a down payment and I will pay the rest when I pick them up." And then went on my merry way.

But I wasn't so merry. I was angry with myself for not being smarter about my glasses shopping. But instead of doing something about it, I stayed quiet. I've never spent more than $200 on glasses. Ever. And now I was spending $300. Though to be fair, they are $900 glasses (I got a good deal). But I left the clinic with a pit in my stomach.

And then I proceeded to forget about my new glasses for approximately six months. I didn't go pick them up. I just left them at the eye doctor's. That was my punishment.

Until this dude...

...ate my glasses. Just a bit of the lens on the bottom, but still. He ate them.

I wore the chewed on glasses around for more than two months until I finally said "All right you hobo. Enough is enough. You look like a crazy person."

And I buckled. I picked up my glasses.

My first thought upon going into the clinic, after mild embarrassment that I was there to pick up glasses they'd been holding for six months, was "Holy shit! These are the frames I picked out?"

Because I kinda think I got hipster glasses.

I had absolutely no memory of picking out these frames. Shopper's amnesia.

And every night when I go to bed, I very carefully place my glasses in their case on top of a bookshelf that Mondo would have to be superman to scale.

Because I love Mondo, but he ain't eating my $900 glasses. I'd have to ship him off to a farm in Montana.

I better copyright this sh*t.

 I have a lot of awesome ideas on a regular basis.

Here is a list of ideas I've had that were NOT so great.

1. Made a four-minute video of a cat.
2. Left Mondo in a running car.
3. Ran over a plastic shopping bag.
4. Took the bus.  Oh yeah, took the bus.  I don't miss bussing to work.

Now that you've reviewed some of my terrible decisions, you will be properly prepared to recognize two awesome ideas I've had as of late.

yes, both of them are about dogs.

Roll your eyes.

Look at a picture of Mondo.

I am adorable. Now give me a treat.

See how cute he is? Wouldn't you become overly interested in dogs if you had a Mondo Fattington Hoegenheimer?

Now, back to business.

Idea #1

A phone app that allows you to take a picture of a dog and then the app will tell you what kind of dog you are looking at and all sorts of facts about the dog. The facts part I don't really care about, I mostly want to know what sort of an ugly mutt I'm looking at when I encounter dogs on Mt. Tabor.

This one is kind of cute.

  
Idea #2

A match.com for dogs! Now there are some websites like this one and and this one for single humans that have pets and are looking for a love match with someone else that also loves pets.

And there is this British site for dogs that is sort of close to what I'm talking about.

I want there to be a website that allows you to upload your dogs information, likes, dislikes, etc and then you can match to other dogs in the area so they can fall in love.

I'm sort of serious about Idea #2. But mostly, Idea #2 came about when my boss and I were giggling over the possibility of her dog Lila and my dog Mondo being online loves, sending each other letters and photos.


I think these are awesome ideas. Not so awesome that I'm willing to invest any money in making them happen, but awesome enough ideas that I would download a free app on to my phone if one so existed.

So if someone could get on with making these two ideas happen, I'd really appreciate it.

I'm much to busy being Bry Hoeg.

My GPS is my enemy, my dog is a foodie, and other tales of woe.

I've become increasingly concerned the GPS on my cell phone is in cahoots with the oil companies. Perhaps Mr. Cell Phone is more concerned with storing my pictures of Mondo, arbitrarily draining my battery, and spell-checking my Scrabble words than it is with assisting me with arriving safely and quickly at my destination.

Up until now, my GPS has been tasked with locating bars and always knowing the address and directions to my rental property's office so I can pay the rent. The office is in a weird little pocket of Southeast Portland that, from what I can tell, is populated by burrito joints and meth houses.  If I don't ask for help, I get lost every time.

My last few searches on GPS have directed me in routes that empty my gas tank. And gas is expensive, yo!  I've taken roads that lead to no where and driven for miles only to realize I could have done a better job guessing the route. Clearly the oil companies and GPS are in cahoots.

About a week ago, Mondo had what I will refer to as the Incident. I found him seemingly non-responsive and dehydrated. Some where during the day, he apparently hurt his ribs and belly and went into shock. I immediately took him to the vet. When I jumped in the car, I searched the GPS for the address, a clinic on Woodstock.

I immediately knew my GPS was bananas. Even though I was hysterical, in what will hence forth referred to Crying Incident #1 of 2 (there will be a second one, sometime in the next 9 months. Just like the gestation of a baby, it will be a waiting game to see when Crying Incident # 2 appears) BUT! there was no way I was going to take a terrible turn to get on Powell, then to go down 82nd to Woodstock. Crying or no crying, GPS could suck it. Instead I started down Holgate to get to Woodstock, a much more direct route.

The second GPS incident occurred on Sunday night when BF and I were trying to get to JAO's Oscar party in Lake Oswego. I've been to JAO's house a few times, but I always seem to drive there from a different route. BF and I were hauling butt up the hill towards the house when we decided we were going the wrong way. I pulled over to look up the address in GPS. The directions took us in a completely different way and in fact drove us in a big loop, past the turn we should have taken, and back down the hill where we came from, only to direct us up the hill on a parallel street, again passing a place we had just been, before finally putting us on the right street. We were flabbergasted, especially since we had originally been headed in the right direction.

Yesterday, while running errands, I inexplicably had a burning desire for a Chipotle burrito. I live in a neighborhood populated by pho and dim sum joints so I knew it would be a little drive. I asked the GPS to find the nearest one and it directed me towards Clackamas. Not exactly where I wanted to go, but oh well. I drive down to Clackamas and past the address, according to GPS, without seeing Chipotle or even a shopping center. In fact, upon closer inspection, the route abruptly ended in the middle of an intersection.

Just as I was about to give up (perhaps my GPS is in cahoots with Jillian Michaels, too), I realized I knew exactly where Chipotle is. The Clackamas Town Center. Sorry  Jillian, sorry Big Oil. I ate a burrito.

Because of the aforementioned Incident, Mondo had to be on a bland diet for four days so that he could rest his belly. and to make sure he could correctly move his bowels.

Is it gross that I mentioned bowels two sentences away from burrito or just appropriate?

I fed Mondo boiled chicken and pumpkin filling for a few days. He came to love it so much that now he thinks anytime I am standing near the stove or handle pots and pans, I must be cooking for him. He is really disappointed when I empty and fill the dishwasher.

After reading a lot of articles and recipes, I've decided to feed him natural food for a while to see if that helps his digestion. He's always had a weird tummy. I think that chicken poop incident at Christmas  probably ruined him forever.  In another week, I will gradually add back dry dog food until he is just on dry food.

But for now, every time I put his bowl on the ground, and he takes an initial bite and then looks at me, I imagine he is saying "it needs more salt."

Things I've Learned Since Moving

A little over two weeks ago I moved into a new house with MK and AM. This is what I've learned so far.


1. Mondo and Seeley really are in love. They are so in love that I fear for their separation. Last night I asked AM, "Do you think that before Seeley and Mondo met they would dream about one day meeting a dog and falling in love and then suddenly here they are, in love?" and I followed that up with a "You complete me, Seeley." I admit to being a bit of a weirdo.






2. Walks are great. They are awesome from sunup to sundown. They are great, though a little cold, from sundown to 10pm. Once you go out after 10pm, you run the risk of finding people having sex in the park.

3. Don't leave anything valuable in the car. Finding your broken car window at 9am is not much fun (not my car, MK's). We thought the thief got away with just a charger for the GPS unit and a pack of cigarettes, but then yesterday afternoon I was walking Mondo and two blocks from home I found two bags I recognized from the car. The thief dumped them when he/she realized little boy's underwear and dog park toys probably wouldn't catch a good rate on the streets.

4. Add ten minutes to my previous driving time estimates. However, if there is a ton of terrible traffic, don't go at all. On Friday I sat in traffic for two hours. Two freaking hours. On the plus side, I listened to the Black Keys album twice and played some awesome Scrabble words. Don't high-horse me about cell phone use while driving. If you have not moved in five minutes, you are really just parked.

5. I live in the Foster-Powell neighborhood. I don't really know what this means, yet, but there is a library just down the street and a park at the end of the block.

6. Though it was one of the selling points of moving, I'm finding that having a backyard is awesome. Mondo gets to pose for super cute pictures and I get to sit outside and drink my coffee while he does his business.




7. Sharing a house with a 3 year-old is a learning experience for both Mondo and I. Wiener (the turtle) is adjusted, though I think I am a bad owner that I did not notice IK (said 3 year old) put Mondo's toy frog in the turtle tank. I am positive that Wiener cuddled with said frog for a day or so before I realized what was going on. In fact, when I changed the turtle's water one morning, he was laying on top of the frog.

8. I've figured out how to get more sleep and to manage my time. Because there is more space and because I am by and large not responsible for the majority of the day to day operations of this house, I find that I have a lot less stress. It has been so easy to spend the morning drinking coffee and reading and then crafting or writing in the afternoon. I can't explain the difference, but I'm doing the things I wanted to be doing on unemployment. I set up a crafting and painting spot in the garage. I'm writing more. A weight has been lifted. I am not worried about money (as much), I'm keeping organized (for the most part), and Mondo is pretty happy (hello Seeley). I do miss living with AA, but I also think, because we have similar personalities and we are both unemployed, it is easy for us to feed off each other's dark thoughts and there was no motivation to be productive.

9. I don't need soda! I didn't really learn this in the past two weeks, but I have not been keeping soda in the house and therefore am not drinking it. Yay.


(I posted a followup to the bully blog. click here to read the post.)

Reflections and Ruminations of the Daily Life of Bryanne R. Hoeg

This morning I woke up very groggy and thought, very briefly, that my toes were extra hairy as of late and perhaps I should do something to change that. And then, as I was dismissing the idea of doing anything about it today, as i would clearly be too busy doing nothing, I realized it was my dog inching his way slowly out from under the blankets, probably to go in search of his best friend and probable girlfriend Seeley. Or food. Or Seeley and food.

I say probable because at 5 months Mondo is too young to have a girlfriend. They are at that stage in life where they can say they are girlfriend and boyfriend but that just means they sit next to each other at lunch. Which reminds me that I keep meaning to tell Seeley to stop sticking her tongue in Mondo's mouth.

Seeley is a dog, too. Thank god. I don't want Mondo kissing humans. That's gross.

I'd like to tell you a lot of really cool things have happened as of late, but I'm sort of just treading water. My life is really just moments of reading and coffee interspersed with sleep and seeing friends. I've sort of retired from life at the moment. I don't mean that in a turn-your-head-to-the-side-look-concerned-and-say-are-you-okay sort of way. It's not a sad thing. I'm having fun. I'm a lady that lunches. A lady that happy hours. A lady that bowls on Friday nights. A lady that goes to trivia in pubs.

It's just that I've put all the messy parts of life in a big pot and boiled it down to a reduced gravy that I'm currently marinating in. It's quite tasty, but not substantial.

For example, I now have a lot of extra time on my hands that I can dedicate to the following useless endeavors:

1. parsing online scrabble words for tone and hidden meaning.
2. organizing dog toys by size.
3. reading Fox News articles so that I have a reason to be outraged about something.
4. drawing pictures of baby chickens as celebrities.
5. writing love letters to trees.

See. I told you I was having fun.

And now, if you will excuse me, I need to go to the post office to apologize for my dog being an a-hole. More on that another time.

I only hope this is rock bottom.

This is the lowest I'm willing to go.

Last week it took me an hour to comb out a rat's nest near the base of my skull. The result of a week of not brushing my hair, the knot had reached the point where it bothered me to lay my head on the pillow. I was seriously tempted to just cut out the wad. I rationalized this laziness by assuring myself no one would notice a chunk of hair missing from the back of my skull. 

But then I realized the sense of accomplishment I would feel at untangling my shame-ball far outweighed the convenience of a few well placed snips. 

That was the moment I realized I needed to make some life changes. 

Since returning from my holiday travels, I've done two important things: watch IK and care for Mondo. 

Sure, there were a few outings with friends randomly spaced through out the last 16 days, but as far as measurable accomplishments, there are none. 

Not unless I can win some sort of reward for marathon TV watching. I watched 7 seasons of How I Met Your Mother in the past two week. The shame I feel at admitting this is akin to the shame seen on Mondo's face when he realizes that I've noticed he chewed up three paint brushes and some charcoals. 

Can one be complimented on the height of a stack of dirty dishes or the sheer volume of seven loads of dirty laundry? Number of naps in one day? 

I'm shooting for a gold medal in the Lazy Hobo Olympics. 

I don't mind not working, that part is okay enough. However, I do wish JG were there every day to tell me how awesome I am or to compliment me on my book displays. I wonder how much I would have to pay my former bosses to text me every day and tell me I am kind, I am smart, I am important. 

Oh my dear Lord, God in Heaven.

Stick with me for a minute.

As I was typing this pity party of a blog, I realized there is something I've done recently that I can show you a video of as proof I have not been laying on the couch for every minute.

Here are twenty seconds of Mondo doing the three tricks he knows.

As I was figuring out how to upload this video to the Youtubes, I realized I've uploaded videos before. And I found the real rock bottom and It. Is. Not. Pretty.

Before I continue, I implore you not to watch this second video I am about to post.

A little backstory (I told you to stick with me. These cutaways to a new topic are a result of all the How I Met Your Mother I recently watched).

A few years ago I got this idea that I was going to move to California. I packed up all my stuff and went. Once there, I realized it was probably a mistake. Even though I had a full-time job, I was working from home, which allowed me to spiral down into a pit of despair and depression.

My only friends were my brother MY and a cat named Angel (not to be confused with the alley-cat-like human roommate I have now). Angel was not my cat, he belonged to my stepsister and her daughter, but he lived with MY because TL and AS had moved to Escondido. Angel the cat was named after David Boreanaz from his vampire show. How fitting, right?

For some reason, I called this cat Chi Chi Rodriguez. Who knows where I came up with this name.

As I was navigating Youtube to upload my spinster-proud-of-her-dog video, I found a video I made of Chi Chi Rodriquez. A video in which the cat is sitting in my office chair and I am spinning him around and around and giggling like a loon.

The video is Four. Minutes. Long.

Here it is, if you have four minutes to waste. If you do watch it, I want you to feel the appropriate level of sadness at the crazy person I had become.

I suddenly feel a surge of energy to get up and wash clothes, do dishes, and find a job. Pity party has ended, time to pick up the debris.

I'm closer to being a normal human than I am to making four minute cat videos, that is the silver lining.

Ugh. I feel so disgusted with myself, suddenly.

I'm off to be more productive. To take the negative taste out of your mouth, here is my third and final Youtube video, filmed years ago.

My nieces and nephew hunting for Bigfoot.