Where I get inspired, the puppies maul each other, and we become yuppies. In no particular order.

The holidays were so restful that I can’t even go into it. I took your (amazing!) advice on the holiday run around and we even set limits for the amount of inter-family events that we attended. I re-designed my blog, talked for hours with old friends, lay down and read for days on end, and napped. I charged my batteries. It was beautiful.

At the start of the holidays Mister and I said to each other “If there’s one thing we do it’ll be get our spaces sorted!”. We’re lucky enough to have a couple of “private” spaces in our little house- I have a functional (but not pretty) craft room, and Mister has the (very unfinished) basement. Of course that sentiment eventually devolved to “If there’s one thing we do, it’ll be eating expensive cheese!” before bottoming out around “If there’s one thing we do, it’ll be staying inside at all costs!” territory. I mean really, if the holidays aren’t for expensive cheese and bumming around, I’m not sure what they’re for.

We were going to make cheap fabric wall panels for my craft room first. We made sure the car still started (again with the cold, I know) and then hit the roads. Because…

I was so happy with the results that I pretty much curled up in my day bed and drifted off to sleep.

Which was around the time that I heard snarling, yelping, and screaming from downstairs. I ran down the stairs, screaming for Mister, only to find him in the middle of a full fledged dog fight. Mister had kicked Mal off of Ash and as he picked Ash up, Mal had grabbed Ash’s leg and was hanging from him. We separated them, got them caged off into their own areas and inspected the damage.

As suspected, Mal had started it and Ash had been gouged. Under his eye there was a big gash, and his paw where his idiot brother had been hanging from him he was sore but not cut. I tried not to freak the poor puppy out, grabbed the phone and called the vet.

And all I could think was “we were asking for this”. Lately it’s been cold. Cold that they can’t walk for long in, even with puppy boots and jackets. When it gets this cold, we just can’t give them the exercise they need and being a high energy breed, they get pent up and flip out. And we haven’t wanted to make the financial investment of buying a treadmill because we’re only a one and a half income house while I’m in school. But with Ash wounded, Mister and I exchanged knowing, guilty, aren’t-you-glad-they’re-not-children looks. We thought about the vet bills and all he said was “I’m going to Sears.”

Two hours later I was almost crushed to death trying to get a treadmill out of the back of our car. And then there was the hilarious “Who goes down the granny killers (basement stairs) backwards while trying to not be steamrolled by something that weighs as much as a clydesdale” game that we followed it up with.

I still can’t feel my arms.

I’m just saying.

Okay pictures!

I’ve long held the belief that only yuppies own treadmills but I’m enough of an animal person and Cesar Millan devotee to be sure that tired puppies are relaxed puppies, and relaxed puppies don’t fight. This is an “ounce of prevention” situation. And besides, I could get buff in the mean time!

It could happen!

Thankfully Ash is on the mend, the puppies are reconciled, and we’re a little breathless but are glad to have made some room in our budget to account for random purchases here and there. While the end to the holidays was more stressful than I hoped it would be, I guess there’s no reason I can’t take a little piece of my holiday wisdom forward and that eat expensive cheese whenever I want, right?

I mean I’m not vegan yet.