Capturing the Impossible

Parents and pet owners alike are constantly fighting to capture the impossible: the cute moments of their children and/or pets. Children and animals always try to impress with their giggles, smiles, puppy/kitty eyes, and endearing actions, but the charm is turned off whenever cameras come into play. It's like they have this sixth sense, a trigger in their brains that sounds the alarm whenever a camera is present. It is a rare occasion when a snapshot can be taken of a cute moment and an even more scarce occasion when a video of charming entertainment can be made. Maybe it's because they already know abut the web and what it will do to their futures. Maybe they know those pictures and videos will be placed on facebook and youtube for the world to see. Maybe they know their parents/pet owners will use it as a tactic of embarassment when they are older and have long forgotten the event. Are they smarter than we think? Are they smarter than us? I'm not sure because maybe the children and pets have brought it on themselves. Anymore, capturing a compromisingly cute picture is a fantastical event that must immediatey be shared with family and friends, maybe even the world. Parents and pet owners are so excited they finally got a picture that they can't restrain themselves from spreading the news of their achievement. If it was an every day occurence maybe parents and pet owners wouldn't feel the need to let the whole world know. Then again, maybe they would. I wouldn't know. I rarely capture the impossible.

Doctor's: No Wonder They Are Rich

Do you have health insurance? If not, don't go to the doctor. You will be charged for every little thing done while you are there. I bet they even charge for weighing you, something everybody finds deplorable in the first place. It's outrageous. Their equipment and the use of employees does not cost near as much as they make you pay. My husband recently had to go to the doctor for chest pain. We were afraid his heart may be involved so we decided it was best, even without insurance, to have it checked out. The doctor was with Michael for a total of ten minutes and had a diagnosis for the chest pain, but still insisted we do all these other tests just to "make sure" it wasn't anything else. He sent Michael for x-rays, an EKG, and blood work, all of which came back just fine, just as the doctor initially said it would. They weasel money out of you. They make you take unneeded tests just for the money. These tests they know will be useless to you, but very beneficial to them. You want to know what all that cost us: around $1,000. You want to know what we learned: Michael has inflammation on a joint between his ribs and collar bone (which is very common) that can be treated with every day ibrofen. Wow, way to scam us out of money. They don't actually care about 'helping' people. They just want money, and they definitely get it. Veterinarians are the exact same way. I just had to pay for a vet to look through a microscope for two minutes while I waited for him to come up with a new pill for me to pay for and feed to my dog. It's no wonder they're all rich.

Essay or Paper?

An assignment for an online class had directions to write a 7-10 paragraph essay based on a book we read and LCSC's conceptual framework. When I think of an essay I think 5-7 paragraphs. The paragraphs in my essay were not piddly little four liners. They had content and lots of it. Double spaced, one paragraph came close to a full page by itself. So when does an assignment go from an essay to a paper? When it goes over seven paragraphs? When it goes over 2-3 pages? No....the answer is when I am the one writing it. I turned this essay into a six and half page paper because I can't seem to shut up on paper. So should it still be considered an essay? Can essay's be that long? Who knows...not me.

Dirty House

The plan for this weekend: clean house and do lots of homework. What really happened this weekend so far: get sick and lay on couch all day. Hopefully tomorrow will be a more productive day, but until then I still have a dirty house.

Still Sick

I had my interview for the education program today and I'm still sick. Hoping my answers weren't too 'der-dah-der' because of my mushy brain. Hope to have good news in two weeks. Will keep you posted, but for now I'm off to bed to hopefully sleep away this sickness.

Blah

I just feel blah. It's been one of those weeks. One sickness on top of another. I originally only had a cold, but what do you know...the flu decided to come visit too. So my head hurts, my nose is stuffy, my throat is filled with gunk, my throat hurts, and the fact that I've thrown up only makes it worse. Blah. That's the only way to describe how I feel. Oh, and guess what...I have an interview for the education program tomorrow. I very highly doubt this blahness will go away by then so hopefully I don't blow it because my brain is mush and is feeling very blah. Hope reading this doesn't make it contagious. Have a very unblah day!

Worst Symptom

So the worst part of being sick isn't the dull headache, the sneezing, or even the stuffed-up nose. The worst part is the burning in my throat. It hurts so bad. It hurts to talk. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to eat. It hurts to drink. It hurts to swallow. Nothing is helping. Cough drops were a no go; they just left a bitter-icky taste in my mouth. Sore throat spray didn't work; it numbed it for about two seconds before going back to burning. Regular water definitely didn't work; it did nothing but irritate it more. Gargling saltwater is the only thing that has come even close to soothing my poor throat, but that didn't last long either. When will it ever end?

Scary Night

So I had a most unpleasant experience last night regarding my pug, Oreo. My husband and I went to bed around 9:00 last night. I fell asleep fairly quickly (which is very unusual), but was abruptly awoken by the sound of Oreo trying, unsuccessfully, to breathe. He jumped on the bed and ran to me as he panicked over the lack of oxygen he was getting. It seems Oreo has the same breathing problem as my first pug, Denzel. Dogs have these two little flaps in their throats that allow air to flow in and out. They open and close accordingly unless a problem arises. For pugs, problems arise often. This particular problem is having their muscles tense which cause those two little flaps in their throat to stay closed. Closed flaps mean little or no air gets to the pugs nose and mouth. Just like any human, a pug will freak out when they can't breathe. However, panicking causes the muscles to tense more and therefore keep the flaps closed longer. I immediately turned on the light and did the only thing a doctor said I could do. I held him close, spoke softly in his hear, and rubbed his throat in hopes that it would calm him down enough to allow him to start breathing again. It took almost five minutes to get him back to normal (if you can call a pug's breathing normal) breathing. The rest of the night I slept restlessly, worred my baby would have another breathing attack. Thankfully, he didn't, but all I kept thinking is: What if I don't wake up the next time? What if I can't get him to calm down next time? What if his little flaps don't open back up? Those are terrible questions to think of in regards to something you consider family.

Never Again

So I totally spaced writing my blog yesterday, so to make up for it I'm going to write two of them today. This one is what I meant to do yesterday. Subject: online classes.

I have two online classes this semester. I have always disliked them and preferred on-campus courses, but I recently moved to Grangeville and now commute to school. To cut down on gas I decided to take some classes online and only commute on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Never Again. Taking all my classes on campus is worth the money in gas. Online classes are frustrating and useless. A normal teacher tries to show their students what's important and asks questions that emphasize important information, but not online teachers. They ask you questions about the most menial information just so you have to dig through and read every word of  the information they provide. Yes, it may be a way to ensure that the students are really doing the work and taking the time, but it's still useless. We spend all of our time reading the material, just to answer stupid questions rather than taking the time to really study and understand the subject matter. What is the point of taking the class if all you are doing is trying to get a grade? You won't remember any of it, because you didn't have the time to really imprint the information in your mind and the teacher obviously doesn't think it's worth your time either. I want to learn, understand, and remember the information. Online classes will not do that. So....NEVER AGAIN.

Lumberjack Days

I finally took a day out of my busy homework weekend to attend the fair and carnival portion of Lumberjack Days in Orofino with my husband and his family. The first part of the day was definitely not enjoyable. We drove to Nezperce to meet his family and then drove from there to Orofino. To get to Orofino we took this gravel grade. My husband drives just like his mother....scary as h*ll. He drives a dodge neon which is light and not the greatest on gravel, but that doesn't seem to stop him from going just as fast or faster than others, even when one side of the road is a nice long drop off. It's hard not to imagine going just a little too fast around a corner, sliding right off the edge, and falling hundreds of feet into a firery crash. I think this fear of mine may be a borderline phobia. I clung to the door and made a twenty minute ride feel like a lifetime.

However, the rest of the day was fun. Michael and I took his younger sister on several different rides. He took her through the mirror maze and then we all went through this western style obstacle course. We watched as she rode the pretty ponies on the carousel and then as she went through the obstacle course by herself. I also rode with her on the 'Dragon Wagon' which was a mini, kid-version of a roller coaster. After rides we went through the different carnie activities. We took his sister to a booth where she threw ping pong balls into tiny little cups to win a gold fish. She actually made one and got a little fish that hopefully will live a long life in the fish bowl on the counter in their kitchen with the frogs. We then went to throw darts at balloons to win posters. We won two big posters and three small ones (two of which were given to his sister). Last, but not least we spent almost an hour dropping tokens through a little chute to win little prizes. We won big foam dice, little fans, toy cars, hacky sacks, popping guns, and a magnetic spin wheel. Overall, it was a fairly productive and fun day. It was definitely a nice day away from homework!

Satircal Writing: Identity Crisis

In high school I was introduced to satirical writing. One well-known author of satirical works is Voltaire. At first, I didn't think I would enjoy satirical writing, but I soon found out that, in an obscure way, satirical writing was for me (reading it at least...I probably couldn't pull off actually writing it). Many of these types of works are vulgar, disturbing, and very abstract, but if you ask me they are absolutely hilarious and genius as well. These pieces catch my attention, hold it, and really make me think, not only about the piece, but about life as well.

My senior year, my teacher gave us a short satirical piece to read and respond to. This was and still is my favorite piece of satircal writing, however many of my class members were revolted and could not get beyond the atrocities being prevented to understand the real purpose of the piece. My teacher loved my response and made me read it out loud to the class because "it was so insightful" (her words, not mine). However, being the only one in my class to respond with any positivity made me wonder if there was something wrong with me. Am I a crazy satiric? Do I just think in vulgar ways? Am I a black sheep? Sometimes I still think so, but then other times I wonder if I was just the only one taking the project seriously, which then of course makes me think I'm weird. Was I just a nerd? A teacher-pet? An outcast? I still don't know the answers to those questions. Maybe you can help me find those answers by telling me what you think of this satirical piece.

Jonathan Swift wrote "A Modest Proposal." You can find this piece at this website: http://art-bin.com/art/omodest.html . I think it's worth the time reading it, but it is totally up to you.

High Stakes Testing

High stakes testing has gotten a really bad reputation because of what it has become. High stakes tests are standardized tests given to students whose scores can reap rewards and punishments for them, their teachers, and their schools (for example the ISATs in Idaho). Those rewards can be federal funding and graduating high school. Those punishments can be loss of federal funding, not graduatnig from high school, restaffing, or complete shutdown of a school. Because of all this, many opponents of high stakes testing think it should be completely gotten rid of. I disagree.

I learned today, that Washington's version of a high stakes test, originally came from an Asian country. However, we made some crucial changes to the test that actully changed it for the worse. Japan did not use the test to make important decisions like federal funding, or the potential graduation of individual students. They used it to identify the strengths and weaknesses of the schools in general. If we were to use these tests for that purpose, we could greatly improve our schools. If a particular school is doing well in one section, an investigation into how they teach can help all other schools improve how well they teach. If used as a general tool, rather than an individualized, reward/punishment system, high stakes testing can be changed back to its original name of standardized testing and used for actual improvement.

So my stand is not to get rid of high stakes testing altogether, but to change it to make improvements that are beneficial for everybody.

Angels

So my animals have been less demonic today...not completely angelic, but definitely not those evil entities they were (or at least Tigress was) yesterday. That being said I can now tell you the heartwarming tale of their first nights/days together.

It's always worrisome when you get a new pet inside a house that is already claimed territory by another pet, especially when said pets are of supposedy enemy species. Will they get along? Will the cat scratch the dog's eyeballs out? Will the dog eat the cat? Those are a few of the more serious questions you ask yourself when introducing the traditionally arch enemies to each other. I, of course, asked myself that question when my husband and I decided to bring Tigress home to meet Oreo. I was equally worried about Oreo and Tigress. Oreo seems to love everything he comes into contact with so it wouldn't surprise me if all he wanted to do was play with Tigress, but that may have been the problem. He would amble right on up to her, which would scare her and make her react in self-defense and bring out those lovely, pointy, kitty claws. Those same claws would reach right for his huge bug-eyes that stick out like a skinny kid in a candy shop and cause some major damage. Either that or Tigress would cower and Oreo in all his oaf-like clumsiness would step right on her and make her screech bloody murder. It seemed like a disaster waiting to happen, but Michael and I took precautions before allowing them to meet. He had an iron grip on Oreo while I firmly held Tigress. We put them face to face...Oreo sniffed like a mad man on crack and Tigress hissed like an upset rattlesnake. It wasn't a pretty sight and definitely not a good first impression. We put them both in the car for the ride home anyway. Oreo roamed free while I held onto Tigress. She does not like cars. She is easily spooked which means claws in my chest and horrible meowing the whole way home. Fortunately, Oreo was there. Somehow he sensed she was afraid. He came and laid his head on my shoulder which magically settled Tigress down. Her heart stopped beating so erratically, her grip on my chest came loose, she quieted, and we could hear the slightest purring.

The first few days were much the same. Tigress was not yet used to being without her kitty family and unfortunately she was in a cage for long periods of time. I'm allergic to cats, and she made my head feel like a water balloon filled just a little too full. I sneezed, I coughed, my head hurt, my throat ached, and I just didn't feel good. I would finally give myself a rest and stick Tigress in a wire crate in the living room where she could still see us. She cried miserably and tried and tried to find a way out. I couldn't believe what happened the first time I did this. As I sat on the couch reading, I noticed Oreo walk over to the crate. He laid down next to it, unrolled his tail (which usually means he's sad), and stayed there for a good five minutes. During this time Tigress calmed down. She laid down at the edge of the crate closest to Oreo and slept. After Oreo got up and left she began to cry again. This time Oreo walked over to his toy basket (which is full because he's spoiled), picked up a toy, dragged it over to the cage, and sat down with her again. He repeated this several times that day. It was like he became her new guardian and friend all rolled up into a short, disproportionate, bug-eyed pug. He was not only her guardian angel, but mine as well. There was nothing I could do for Tigress because of my allergies, but I felt like a horrible parent and it was driving me insane to hear her cry. Oreo saved me from myself through his angelic actions.

There's Always Something

Why is it that whenever something has to be done there are always interferences? As you may have noticed (or probably didn't), I did not post anything yesterday. This is not because I completely forgot, because I didn't want to, or because I didn't get onto my blog. I did remember, I did want to, and I did get onto my blog. I even had a nice, sweet little story about Oreo and Tigress in mind. When I logged on I remembered that once a week I need to respond to other classmates' blogs. I decided to do this first so I wouldn't forget. I navigated to a classmate's blog, read a few, and found one that I wanted to respond to. I clicked inside the little comment box and began to type. Once I had a good paragraph, I stopped, reread it, and decided it was good. What a surprise I got (I'm being completely sarcastic) when an error message popped up telling me my email address was not allowed to comment on this site. I tried three more times with the same result. By this time I was so frustrated that I couldn't post a comment I forgot that I hadn't done my own blog and didn't even want to be on blogger anymore. Before I ended up smashing my computer and I exited blogger and found something less stressful to do.

It was not until a few minutes ago when I began to think about today's blog, that I realized I had not posted the story I wanted to share. Of course, I could just tell the story now within this post, but honestly, it would not be the same because I am in a different mood. The story was a sweet one about my dog and cat....I'm not feeling too many sweet feelings toward my kitten at the moment. She has been a monster repeatedly today. Every time I am standing or walking somewhere and take my eyes off her she decides this is an excellent opportunity to use my leg like she would a tree and climb. Those little itty bitty kitten claws feel like a bunch of tiny razor sharp knifes digging into my skin. She then decides the best way to get down is to slide an inch and stop with her claws, slide another an inch and stop again. She does this over and over until she's back on the floor, but it only takes her a matter of seconds....very painful seconds. I'm scared to see what my legs look like tonight. She's probably done this ten times today, along with attacking the dog, furniture, and plants and knocking everything off any tables she can reach. I have no idea what has gotten ahold of her today, but I've about had it. So, no sweet stories about her today.

Worries Thwarted

Whenever somebody I care about has something wrong that could be associated with more serious conditions, I worry. I am a big hairy worry wart. The last few days Michael has been complaining about pain in his chest. That pain was located on the upper left side of his chest too close to his heart for comfort. I wanted him to go have a doctor look at it before, but it was not until yesterday, three days after the pain had started that Michael agreed it should be checked out. I got him an appointment and we went in to see a doctor in Cottonwood today. It was a very different experience being the one looking on as somebody else sits on the those cushioned tables covered with that uncomfortable, loud paper and is probed by all sorts of medical instruments. At one point the doctor had Michael lay down on this table while he shoved, not just tapped, on areas of Michael's stomach and chest, waiting for reactions of pain. He got them. I saw Michael wince, which of course made me wince. We were immediately sent over for x-rays, an EKG (checking the heart), and blood tests. The nurse laughed at Michael's caveman legs and then maybe, enjoyed the reaction she got from him while pulling the sticky things off of them, a little too much. Let's just say they didn't come off clean. I couldn't watch as she stuck the tiny little needle in his arm, but could definitely tell he was fascinated with how quickly the blood ran through the itty-bitty tube into the little vile. From the hospital, it was back to the doctor's office to see what the doctor had to say. The doctor had good news. The x-rays looked perfect, as did the EKG. The blood tests were not back yet, but the doctor highly doubted there would be anything wrong with them. It turns out, Michael probably just has inflammation of a joint in between his sternum and ribs that can be dealt with by taking over the counter ibuprofen. Yet again my worries amounted to nothing. Imagine that.

The End, But The Beginning

So today I'd thought I'd share with you how Oreo and Tigress came to be a part of my family. First I must tell a very sad and disturbing story to introduce the happier stories. So, if you are squeamish and do not like to read sad stories of the mistreatment of animals please do skip the next paragraph.

Before Oreo and Tigress I had a black pug named Denzel. He was one of the sweetest dogs that ever lived on this planet. He was the first dog that I could call just mine. Denzel was given to me by my grandmother who died shortly after. Denzel basically became my child. I loved him so much and it ripped my heart out to leave him with my mom while I moved into dorms in Lewiston. Just after I moved my mom had new neighbors move into the house next door to hers. These neighbors had a total of 7 dogs, two small yorkies, two medium white scotties, one big hunting dog of some sort, and two huge labradoodles (labrador/poodle). These dogs were not the cute cuddly ones that we would want to reach through the fence to pet. They were vicious and bared their ugly pointy teeth at anyone coming into our driveway. A fence made of four-inch squared chicken wire along with a barb wire fence was what separated my mom's property from their's. The morning before Easter my freshmen year I got a frantic call from my mom. Rarely does she call me at 6:30 in the morning and never does she call me screaming and crying to the point that one of every five words is distinguishable at 6:30 in the morning. She calmed down just enough to break the most heart-wrenching news I had ever received in my life. Denzel had been torn through one of those four-inch squares while outside for his morning potty break by the two heartless labradoodles and used as a chew toy. The neighbor stood by and watched as my mom did the only she could. She pulled out her 270 rifle and shot one dog dead to the ground. Denzel's limp body fell from the mouth of the beast onto the cold, snow-covered ground, just out of my traumatized mother's reach. The neighbor refused to let my mom on his property. The cops showed up an hour later (just before I got there; normal driving would take an 1 1/2) and were able to rescue Denzel. He was rushed to the nearest vet who immediately started working on warming him up. No surgery or painkillers could be used on Denzel's horrendous wounds until his body temperature rose. My family and I could do nothing but go home and wait for further news. At 10:30 the phone lit up and let out an ominous ring. I slowly reached for the phone and answered hopefully. The old, experienced vet's voice started to say "I'm sorry to report..." at which point I froze. I knew what was coming next. I didn't need to hear it but I listened anyway. My world starting closing in. I hung up the phone with a clumsy hand and stumbled towards the stairs, towards my mom. My sister's scream seemed distant. The floor rose up to meet me as my knees crumbled beneath me. I collapsed and my body shook uncontrollably as tears streamed down my face. Losing Denzel was like losing a child. I still miss him. I still cry over him. In fact, as I write this I'm fighting tears...unsuccessfully.

My husband, who at the time was only my fiance, knew how much I was hurting. He also knew that people deal with loss differently. A month or so after Denzel's death he cautiously approached me with the news that he knew of some pug puppies being sold by a breeder in Kamiah. If I was ready, he was willing to help pay for a new puppy. That meant the world to me and I immediately probed him for more information. That night we drove to Kamiah to look at these puppies. There were three female fawn puppies and one male brindle puppy. Before we arrived I told myself I would not be getting the male. He reminded me so much of Denzel as a puppy that I wasn't sure I would be able to handle it. The moment the puppies were let loose the male came straight to me and never left my side. The females came back and forth, but were more interested in playing with each and their parents than me. It seemed that fate stepped in and told me what I really wanted. I couldn't leave without that cute, round, bug-eyed little male. We of course, named this loving little creature Oreo. He is now just over a year old and the center of attention in our household.

I always thought, especially because we are only renting places at the moment, that Michael and I would be sticking to one pet, more specifically one dog, at a time. That was until we visited my in-laws who had a brand new litter of kittens. Michael's five year old sister dragged me in to see the kittens that looked like drowned-rats. Of course that doesn't mean I didn't pick one up and immediately become attached to it. It was apparent that it was the runt of the litter. Every time we visited I went back and visited this runt. The more I did, the more it grew on me. Eventually the time came for the kittens to find new homes. Michael and his family continually pressed me to take this kitty that I had become so stupidly attached to. The pressure got to me and I finally caved like a trailer house roof in the winter. Before bringing it home Michael and I went out and got it a kitty litter box, kitty litter, and toys. It has since become known as spoiled little Tigress. She has several toys and receives a ton of attention.

Tigress and Oreo are like siblings. They fight, make-up, play, and comfort each other. They are also like my kids. I will protect them, love them, and teach them right from wrong (as best you can do with animals). They are my world and forever will be.

Photographic Dog

    Oreo is an attention hog. He always has to be the center of attention. If you aren't giving him that attention he will find a way to get it. He does this by jumping on your lap to cover your books, shoving in front of Tigress so he can be petted, and even making his way into every photo opportunity possible.

    Just over a year ago my husband and I were were married. Our wedding was in the lawn/field of my in-laws home in podunk Nezperce, Idaho. (If you don't know where that is, don't worry, you are not alone.) It was a small wedding with only a few family and friends, and of course a few family pets. Although the chickens, ducks, and horses were all put in the barn to keep from making our wedding just another day on the farm, Oreo along with a few of my in-laws pets were allowed to stay out. However, Oreo is a momma's boy. I am the first person he comes to, especially when there is lots of chaos so it was arranged that Oreo would be kept close to my family during the ceremony in order to keep from having my wedding dress spotted with muddy paw prints. Directly after the ceremony he was let loose and never seemed to really make any trouble. He didn't seem to be demanding anyone's attention and we never had a problem keeping his cute little puppy paws off the guests. It was not until a few weeks later, after printing our pictures of the entire day that my husband and I realized Oreo had found another way to get our attention. In every set of pictures, Oreo's presence was seen. Apparently my mother hadn't had a chance to grab him before we started "the march" so Oreo snuck into a picture with the groom standing at the end of the make-shift aisle. He also posed for some pictures during dinner and the cutting of the brown and blue cake topped with doves. Random snapshots of the guests became random pictures that Oreo managed to sneak into. At one point during the reception the wedding party posed for pictures. While myself and the groom were getting situated on the ground for one picture, Oreo was finding a nice place to stash himself until the exact moment when the camera was lifted, the button clicked, and the lights flashed. Oreo definitely got the prize for most photo opportunities even on what was supposed to be my day.

Introduction

     Writing is something that I like to do, if I have the time and something to write about. Finding something to write about and actually starting are the hardest parts of writing for me. Having to blog everyday for class will definitely be an experience for me. I've never blogged before and I have never been able to commit to writing like I will for this class. I have decided that you will be hearing a lot about my pets. They are a huge part of my life and often the most interesting. There will be days that I will have some magnificent idea that I just can't wait to write to you about, but for those days that my mind seems blank I will resort to random, hilarious, but totally realistic adventures of my brindle pug, Oreo, and my kitten, Tigress. They are often my source of entertainment and the cause for a smile. I hope their little adventures will also be a source for your entertainment and make you smile as well.

     I do already have a story for you regarding my sweet, but sometimes psychotic kitten. Tigress is normally loving and lazy, but she gets into these neurotic moods where she pounces on and attacks everything in sight including, but not limited to, Oreo, plastic bags, the couch, and my feet. On Sunday night (my birthday) this second personality took hold of her and the house became her own little world of antagonists. My husband Michael (who will also be featured periodically), and I finished dishing up our plates of biscuits and hot gravy and planted ourselves on the suede couch in the living room. We blew on our food to cool it, took a few bites and talked about our not-so-exciting day. By now we are used to Tigress making a complete fool of herself and tend to ignore her as she goes about terrorizing the house. That was a mistake.
     One second she is staring up at me from the floor with innocent little kitten eyes and the next she is in my gravy. In one giant kitty leap she managed to go from the floor directly into my steaming plate of food. She frantically shook her legs, flinging gravy from her paws to the couch, my face, my clothes, Oreo's mouth, and the floor. I'm basically in a state of shock and my husband is laughing too hard to stop her. Needless to say, Tigress got an extra bath, I got a change of clothes, Oreo got a rare treat, and Michael got quite the laugh.