and Lord knows I could certainly use the help, so I figured I’d create that village online.

I’m inviting all my readers to join the “Growing Up With Pup” community. It’s a place where you can share your own pictures, videos, and stories about raising your furchildren, as well as discuss the rare problem that may arise – you know, once in a blue moon. You’ve all seen a lot of Ella, and I’d love to see the pups you’re parenting too!

So, when you get a chance, head on over to the village and show off your doggies!

DogBreedStore.com. Free Shipping with your $20 purchase.

Toss the lint brush – get the Furminator!

Come rain, sleet, snow, hell or high water (or something like that), I deliver a heart pounding exercise session every morning for Ella. We spend almost 2 hours in Central Park running, chasing squirrels, playing frisbee, and trying to avoid all the horse poop on the Bridle Path. Not delivering is not even an option…not unless I’m ok with her bouncing off the walls of the shoebox all day (and sometimes – like, today for example (*counting to ten and breathing deeply*) – she does that anyway…).

In addition to the marathon runs at record pace Ella drags me on every morning, I have also started integrating some “off-leash” time during which we play fetch with her favorite toy (her Cuz) and her frisbee. I say “off-leash” because of course Ella doesn’t listen to momma nearly well enough at this point, so she has to stay on her 30-foot training lead. And let me tell you, I have such a love-hate relationship with this training lead. On the one hand, it has given momma a shot in hell at stopping Ella before she sprints off after a squirrel. On the other hand, it’s never fully untangled, and when other dogs drop in on our game of fetch and it turns into a puppy play session, that damn lead gets wrapped around more furry appendages than you can shake a stick at.

I literally heard myself say “Monkeys do not grow on trees, young lady!!”. If Ella could speak, I’m sure she would have said something very pre-adolescent back to me, like “No, but they climb trees – close enough!” and then she would have run off to her room (or rather corner since we live in a shoebox) to avoid her punishment.

She’s already killed Raffy. After she took out Monkey, she destroyed Froggie too – that one was too gruesome…I can’t even show you the pics.

I tell you, lately I really am struggling to note the differences between furchildren and the human kind. I look at Ella when she sleeps, and I think to myself “What a beautiful angel”…and then she wakes up and immediately lifts the top on the trashcan, pulls out a used tissue, and rips it to shreds, and I think…”Wha???”

Anyway, the stuffed animal destruction has got to stop. Just as elephants are killed for their ivory tusks, it seems the root cause of the stuffed animal poaching lies in their valuable squeakers…

The gutting begins.

Nosing for squeakers…

Growing impatient, Ella goes straight for the jugular…

She hits gold and smugly enjoys her reward.

“You got any squeakers in you? I’ll gut you too!”

Poo happens – A LOT. Clean it up with Bags on Board Biodegradable Bags

Sorry for being MIA, but I’ve been busy getting prepared for my big migration – the migration from Blogger to Wordpress! Those of you who are casual web surfers may not have a clue what this means. Good for you (seriously). My fellow web geeks know that Wordpress will ultimately provide a richer blogging experience for me, so I had to bite the bullet.

There can sometimes be some loose ends to tie up as a result of the turnover, so this is just a quick note to let everyone know the following: