#it will be a puppy just to guarantee they'll be okay with cats
Note
Can i see your pets?
Yes! These are my cats, the tabby is Kiwi and the charcoal is Owen (This is my fave picture of them it's both my lock and home screen)
These are Buffy (brown) and Louis (white and cream, although you can't see the cream). Their names are based on the one BTVS Ep where Buffy is turned into a rat and it actually follows rat!Buffy and she almost gets caught in a rat trap 😱 That's high quality entertainment. Louis is obviously named as revenge against the biggest rat eater himself. I think it would make Louis uncomfortable to know there is a rat named after him after the thousands he has killed (EDIT: The rats are in a room the cats don't have access too, I would not recommend having cats and any small creatures without either a dedicated room or for non small mammals/birds a glass locked enclosure)
Kirby the axolotl! (Named after the Tumblr post of the axolotl with the caption "Kirby inhalation noise")
Goob the crested gecko
I also have a 29 gallon freshwater tropical community tank. It's pretty densely planted so it's hard to see fish (which is good they need hiding places!) My Pearl Gourami named Percy can be seen in the upper right corner, one of my school of diamond tetras is in the front. I also have an albino bristlenose pleco named Pancake hiding in there somewhere (also excuse the waterline I need to do a water change)
Also he's the family dog (really my mom's) so I don't live with him but I love his crazy ass: Bowie
#asks#my bf and i have been talking about getting a dog for years now and it's gonna happen soon like next week ish#i teach but will be more free to stay home and train and acclimate the pupper with the semester ending#super excited! i'll share when we bring them home#it will be a puppy just to guarantee they'll be okay with cats#we tried fostering from a shelter and they couldn't guarantee cat friendliness and the dog went after my cat#also my bf just wants a puppy and while an already trained dog would be nice#you can also accimate a puppy to anything such a nail trimmings and baths and cats
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Sassy Cat Burglar
Okay y'all, this isn't a Tom Hiddleston or Loki story. ['So what's the point in posting here, Tooz??? You're taking up prime TH space on the dashboard!' Ha ha, very funny. Bite me!] But if you bare with me, maybe y'all can help me out? When I had my husband read my story, he thought it was funny. (He better. It's about his spawn.) But he looked at me, "I'm confused. When does Tom Hiddleston come into it?" He thought I would put Hiddleston-smut in a story about our daughter! Does he think that is ALL I think about all day long? (That was a rhetorical question, by the way!)
Like a lot of parents in this day and age, I post about my kids on Facebook. I honestly haven't kept track of anything anywhere else. I didn't do baby books. I don't have the attention span for scrapbooking. And a diary or journal is way too much commitment. Facebook, though, I can handle. I especially enjoy posting stories about how ridiculous living with these 4 monsters feels some days.
When the twins were infants, I would post video after video of the 2 of them crying at the top of their lungs. I wanted to provide that sample taste, if anyone needed a baby-fix. Or I posted the photo of my daughter's tantrum when she emptied out all of her drawers onto the floor. Endless photos of them filthy, naked, and usually crying. I need to assemble a montage of how every video seems to end with me saying, "Oh, forget it!"
One of my favorite videos of the twins around 1 yr old is only 5 seconds long. Instead of helping me put cans into the bag for recycling, they had emptied the bag all over the living room. With Lincoln's eyes glued on me, defiant from birth, I sweetly ask, "Now can we put the cans INTO the bag?" He reaches in the bag, grabs a can, holds it out, and basically does a mic drop with the can, never taking his eyes off of me.
Today, I wrote this story, My Sassy Cat Burglar. WITHOUT Hiddleston smut. If you're lucky, maybe tomorrow I'll post another version WITH Hiddleston smut. But I promise nothing.
My Sassy Cat Burglar
Veronica peeked into the living room, spying me asleep on the couch. I no longer have a fever, so Rob went back to work today. I'm laying on the couch though, because my head is still aching and my throat is sore. Mind you, if a mother is dozing, that never guarantees that she doesn't hear every single sound around her. I could easily discern Veronica's footsteps as she quietly padded back into the kitchen. Her tiptoes sound completely different from Jack's patters or the twins shuffles.
She pulled a chair slowly to the fridge. The floor is filthy again, so moving any chair silently on that nasty floor would be impossible. Between the spilt sugar, ground up chips and crackers, and dripped strawberry smoothie for added stickiness, the chair pads made a loud grinding squeal for the entire 18 inches that she dragged the chair.
My little burglar paused, listening for any sign of life from me, I'm sure. Yet I wasn't going to move a muscle, unless I had to. Once she'd concluded that her stealth hadn't been compromised, she stepped up onto the chair to reach the treasures on fridge-top. The chair creaked more than the floor as she carefully shifted her weight from foot to foot, then back down into the floor.
She's actually getting very good at this. With her recent growth spurt, a whole world of goodies are suddenly within her reach. The cabinets and shelves have never been more interesting to her than they are now. But I knew exactly what she was seeking this time.
Earlier this morning, she had already asked me if she could have a brownie at 10am. Actually, her request started with, "Can I have one if Daddy's York Mint Patties?"
"No." I don't think she was surprised by my answer to that. I may not have even needed to be conscious to provide that answer. Those are Daddy's special treats he takes to work.
"Then can I have a brownie?"
"No!" I actually had to glance at the time before I answered that one. I'm desperately trying to be more of a 'yes' person. I truly am. But no one needs brownies at 10am.
"Then, what CAN I have?"
No shock to her, I'm sure, I sternly retort my standard answer, "How about REAL food?"
In turn, my sassy little thing stomps off in a melodramatic huff. "I'll just starve then!"
So a few hours later, after playing outside and making sandwiches for her and the boys, I don't mind if she finally has that brownie she wanted. I haven't heard any fighting. That is a rarity any day. Granted, I wish she would learn to put meat and cheese back into the fridge when she's finished, but I'll nag about that later. So far today, she's been a great big sister.
As soon as I hear the brownie wrapper pull open, I holler out to her, "If you're going to have a brownie,..." I pause, and she stops rustling the brownie wrapper. "Do you hear me?"
A quiet little "yes" squeaks out of the kitchen.
"Please put the brownie box back up on the fridge when you're done. If the babies get into the brownies, they'll eat them all. And Dad will be PISSED!"
No answer. "Do you hear me? Don't leave that box on the table. OK?"
“OK."
After that, this mom's dozing-radar went off high alert, and I drifted back off to sleep - until I heard more plastic rustling. Rustle. Rustle. Rustle. Dammit Veronica! I can't trust you to help at all! I knew those babies would devour all the brownies. It won't be the first time I find the box empty with brownie wrappers covering the table and floor. The twins are worse than puppies! They use scissors!
Using my firm mom-is-patient-but-serious voice, "That's enough of the brownies!"
The rustling pauses for a moment, leaving only silence. But then, to my shock, the rustling starts again. How dare they!!!! "Do you hear me? I said no more brownies!"
There's only a mere second of pause this time before the rustling starts again. Ooooh, I'm angry now. This means I have to get up. (Well, it's time for more Motrin anyways, since that headache is back. But that's not the point.) So I stand, and fly into the kitchen to catch the culprit in the act, rustling away.
No kids.
No box of brownies.
No empty wrappers.
Just Bingo on the table, biting and tugging on the plastic bags of cereal left on the table. She looks at me with the sweetest, more expectant face, giving a hopeful little "meow!" She jumps off the table and runs to her food bowls, putting a paw on the tupperware, with another pleading "meow."
Veronica pops her head in the backdoor, "Did you call me?"
@alexakeyloveloki @haute-macabre @dianamolloy @missdibley @missanonwrites @largebeeffriedrice @ohhhmyloki @redfoxwritesstuff @bambamwolf87
So I guess we could find Tom sitting on the table fussing with the cereal bags, instead of Bingo? The ties on those bags aren't necessarily easy to undo. What do you think? ;-)
#NOT about Tom Hiddleston#Parenting#Bad parenting#Brownies#Junk food#Cats#Maybe it could have hiddleston in it?#First story posted#Horizontal parenting#From the couch#Lots of yelling
18 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
