Surprise!

So this summer, Ryan and I did something a little crazy.  It really all started early in the summer when Ryan decided to take up cycling.  He'd been thinking about it for a while and decided in May to take the plunge and buy a hybrid bike.  Then it spiraled into a family of bikes for us and a trailer for Riley and even my parents getting in on the action.  Within a few months, Ryan was full-fledged obsessed.  He and my dad planned long rides, spent hours on message boards, and reading their endless magazine subscriptions.  Ryan was happier, skinnier, and really feeling great.  That led him to encouraging me to get a hobby.  I knew immediately there was only one hobby for me.

Me on Freedom - March 2012

Pre-Riley, I started taking lessons at our barn again on sweet Freedom pony, and I was hooked.  But once we got pregnant with Riley, I made the decision to stop and that dream ended up on hold for almost two years.

Ryan was very supportive of my riding and really pushed me to get back into it.  I warned him that this time I wasn't quitting and that it would eventually lead to us owning a horse.  Riding lesson ponies is wonderful, but I put my time in when I was little.  I've owned my own horse before and I know that I prefer that over not knowing who I'm riding week to week.  Ryan nodded, completely in support of me starting back on lessons and then us horse shopping "in a few years."

I took matters into my own hands a few weeks later and emailed Alli's trainer.  I just wanted an idea of what to expect cost-wise with the purchase and upkeep of a horse "one day."  We exchanged a few emails and all along I stressed that this was a long term plan.  A week later, she approached me at the barn.  "I know you aren't ready yet, but I do know of this really great horse.  Can I just send you his info?"  Never one to turn down pictures of a horse, I agreed.   Later that day I got two emails on Jabbar filled with pictures of he and his owner, a fourteen year old boy, swimming, fox hunting, and jumping.  He was a beautiful little bay with a stripe and a sock.  I am such a sucker for a bay.

So for three weeks, I chewed on the possibility.  Ryan was understandably very hesitant - I wasn't even back in the saddle yet and I was horse shopping.  This had been a long term plan.  What was I thinking?  And though I agreed with him, I just could not get Jabbar out of my head.  Finally when we were in Destin, Ryan said "Why don't you just bring him in for a trial?"  I don't know if it was the booze or the ocean breeze talking, but I went with it and a week later Jabbar was in for a visit.

On our first meeting, he was nervous and I was even more nervous!  What was I doing?  I hadn't ridden in two years and I was just going to hop on my maybe-future horse??  Jabbar was a first field fox hunter and a whip horse - he wasn't used to the ring so he was pretty spooked the first several lessons we had.  I wasn't sure he'd ever be quiet enough for Alli or even for me, but I was totally hooked on him.  I could go for a ride whenever I wanted!

After a two week trial, I said yes.  I had to!  I was head over heels and Ryan said that if Jabbar made me this happy, he was worth it.  And slowly over the course of two and half months, we've built a partnership.  He doesn't run the opposite direction when I walk out to the pasture and he doesn't spook at everything anymore.  He's learned really quickly in the ring and he's even taught me out at the hunt country going on two foxhunts (more on that later).

And I'm happy, happy, happy.  He's a special boy that came along at the perfect time for me and my family.

Alli even gets to ride him some!

I firmly believe that I've been good for him, but I know he's been even better for me.

Dog Days of Winter

I had the camera out this week, and you've seen the pictures on the blog - Ryan and Alli playing video games in Ryan's birthday post, Alli outside working on Olaf, Riley in her eight month update.

But here are a few I snapped of our boys during the early evening.  The light was shining through our front door, and I think they call this "the golden light" because it's the perfect light for snapping pictures.

Aren't my fur babies beautiful?  Being able to take pictures like this on the auto setting in good light makes me really want to bust out the photography book and use my camera to its full potential!

Quick Updates

I am falling so behind in my blog posting - I am never going to hit my 2 posts a week for the year goal unless I really turn it up!  We Lowes have been pretty busy getting ready for little Riley's arrival, attending soccer games and riding lessons for Alli, and just living!  Here's a few things we've been up to lately:

• Razorback Red White Game - My daddy and my brother came up this Saturday to attend the annual Red White game for the Razorbacks.  This year was pretty highly anticipated since we have a brand new coach and a new offensive scheme.  We were running late getting there, so Ryan pulled right up to the stadium to let us out.  A police officer started telling him he couldn't do that and needed to move on until Big Mama got out of the car.  At that point, the police officer sheepishly told Ryan he was fine, and then he was overhead saying "What was I going to say when she got out of the car?"  Special treatment?  I'll take it.

• Alli learned a life lesson - After the Red White game, we all went to eat and then I went to do a little nursery shopping while Ryan, Dad, and Alli went to the Razorback baseball game.  I went to bed before they got home, and the next morning, I asked Alli what her favorite part of the game was.  She didn't hesitate at all and announced, "Learning to spit sunflower seeds!"  Apparently her father and grandfather thought it was high time she learned how to properly eat sunflower seeds at a baseball game, and she caught on pretty well.  That's my little lady.

• Cash had surgery - I noticed a small lump on Cash's neck right by his collar, and when we took him in to the vet, they aspirated it.  They said it looked okay (he gets blocked sebaceous glands regularly), but they decided to send it to a lab in Little Rock to test it.  The lab called back and thought we needed to have it removed - apparently they saw some cells that they didn't like.  I've been pretty shaken up by the whole deal, but we knew it was best to tackle it head on and get it taken care of.  He had surgery last Wednesday and was doing really well until Saturday when he scratched open the stitches.  Ryan took him back to the vet, where they stapled him, but ten minutes after being home, he opened them up again.  When Ryan took him back the next time, they said he had opened his inner and outer stitches and would need to go back under to get fixed up.  That was Saturday, and now we're at Tuesday.  He's been spending his days in the crate with a sock over his foot and his evenings with me following him around saying "Don't scratch!!"  It's looking pretty good, but we still have about ten days of this to go.  Worn.  Out.  Ryan tried to create a solution, but our active boxer just can't seem to keep a bandage on.  So say your prayers that the results of the removal are positive (the lump is down in Little Rock getting analyzed, and we should hear something any day now).  

• Riley's room is coming together - Thanks to some major deliveries last week and huge strides in decorating, Riley's room is almost complete!  I should be able to share some pictures this weekend, but it's probably one of my favorite rooms I've ever done.  Seriously.

• Alli finished her first soccer season - Last Friday, Alli wrapped up her last soccer game.  She's made dramatic improvements since the beginning of the season, and almost made a goal twice!  She's also turned into quite the goalie.  We're so proud of her and can't wait to see her continue to develop through camps and fall league.

Cat-astrophes: Part 1

Remember that Dog-saster story about Cash?  Well this past Friday night, we had another pet panic moment, but this one was a Cat-astrophe.  And I again will hope there's only one.  Like I mentioned a few weeks ago, our family just moved into a new house.  The living room and kitchen area has really tall ceiling and hence, really tall cabinets.

Dear sweet Ginger likes to climb on cabinets, which has always been more of a nuisance than anything.  About a week after we moved in, it struck me to climb on the counters and check out the top of the cabinets to make sure everything was safe and secure.  I found a triangular opening on either side of the over, which is caddy-cornered in the kitchen.  I called in the tall one, who looked down the chute and confirmed 1 - this is a 9+ ft tunnel that drops to the floor from the top of the cabinets and 2 - The other cabinets are screwed into this chute, which means the opening is lined with screws.  We agreed that we needed to seal this opening up before Gigi found herself at the bottom of the chute or worse.

A few weeks passed and we sort of forgot about the opening, until last Friday night.  Ginger was up on the cabinets, and my parents and grandmother were up for the Rutgers game (sigh...just...sigh).  Ginger was sitting on the top of the over cabinet when a moth perched over the opening.  She lunged, airborne over the opening and the she plummeted to the bottom hiney first.  I screamed and everyone stared at me - no one else saw it happen!  Ginger immediately started howling, so Ryan figured out pretty quickly what was going on, but the rest of the family was confused.  I got Ryan the flashlight while I explained the problem.

While he checked on Ginger, I implored him to get a saw and saw her out.  There was no telling what injuries she had sustained, and I was anxious to check her out.  Ryan, however, upon seeing that she was okay, jumping to try to get out, and not laying in a pool of blood like I feared, decided to take a little time to get creative before sawing his new cabinets.

First, he fed a bedsheet down the opening, hoping she would grab onto it and he could pull her out.  Of course, she didn't oblige.  Then he had the genius idea of using one of Alli's pet nets from IKEA (seen here).  He thought maybe if he fed that down the tunnel with a little bit of turkey that perhaps Ginger would be enticed to jump in a cubby hole and be lifted out.

That little brat ate the turkey and didn't set a paw in the cubby.  Of course, by this point I was getting more and more adamant that we cut her out of there.  Ryan asked for one more shot, so I allowed him that.  At his request, I brought him rope from our move.  Using his expert army skills, Ryan fashioned a slipknot, which he fed down the chute.  I heard him say "Come on, girl.  Come on kitty.  That's it.  Stick your paw in..."  Then I saw him scrambling, and Ginger emerged at the top, thoroughly lassoed by her neck and leg.  I snatched her from him and checked her over - she seemed completely fine and had already forgotten about the whole incident.

Needless to say, some of our Sunday was spent at Home Depot getting plywood and officially covering the holes.  It's always an adventure around here...

Cat Scratch Fever

Not everyone loves vacation as much as we do.  I honestly cannot look Cash in the eyes for a solid three days before I drop him off at the Chenal Pet Palace.  I think he senses it coming - I took this picture about 2 days before we left for Little Rock:

Completely depressed

I'm not sure Landry even realizes what is going on, but Cash knows.  His tension grows when I lug out my giant pink suitcase.  He barely sits down on the whole trip to Little Rock, and they practically drag him down the hall at the Pet Palace.  I'd like to think it's me leaving that causes his anxiety, but let's be reasonable.  If you had to spend 9 nights locked in a small space with Landry and Emmett, you'd probably be freaking out too.

The girls get the luxury of staying at the house while we are gone.  My friend Kerri came to check on them several times over the week, but they spent the bulk of their time alone in the house for the duration of our vacation.  For Lola, I imagine this must be heaven.  No dogs, no kids, and no Ryan. I'm sure she missed me a little, but I know her well enough to know that my vacation is her vacation.  When we walked in, she greeted us at the door, did a little barely-audible purring, glared at the dogs, and then went back to the spot on the bed where I left a t-shirt of mine for her to curl up on.

Relaxed and happy after a week off from being the boss lady

Ginger, however, practically tackled us when we walked in.  Kerri warned me that she thought Ginger was missing us because she kept following her around and rubbing on her every time Kerri came by.  I thought I was prepared (Ginger is a notoriously loving cat), but I had no idea.  I mentioned to Ryan Monday morning that I didn't sleep well, and he said "Well, it might have been because every time I woke up and rolled over, I saw Ginger sleeping on your chest."  This cat spends 9 hours a night in Alli's room - why is she pestering me?

Seriously, it's been nearly 3 days now, and I cannot get her away from me.  I never thought I would want to go back to before vacation when we were losing her for hours at a time, only to find her in some obscure place like Ryan's clothes hamper.  As I write this, she's rubbing her chin all over my computer and meowing loudly in my face.  Every time one of us walks into a room, she pops up on her back legs like a prairie dog and mews.  Ryan said that Monday night he was holding her and petting her and she actually drooled.  I'm pretty sure she's lost it.

The eyes of a crazy woman

I guess I should feel great that our sweet little simple-minded kitty missed us so much.  She got lonely, and we both know Lola isn't much company.  But this cat is so off her rocker, I keep waiting on the switch to flip and for her to suffocate me while I'm sleeping.  So if they find me, you'll know who did it.

Attacking the camera - help me!

Be Our Guest

I just want to warn you, this isn't your usual fab unveiling and chipper post.  This is a lament.  I know we used to get a lot of laments here on the Lowe Down (check the side bar for a few to get you warmed up for this one if needed), but I started to feel like all I ever did was lament and that would be too close to real life!  And this is blogland, right?  I only have to tell you about things I want to tell you about, and I can angle the camera just so I crop out the cat condo and you don't see the clothes piled up in the chair.

Not today, kids.  Today I tell the tale of the guest bedroom.

Most of you faithful readers are single or married with no kids.  You are comfortable in your 3 bedroom homes, and why shouldn't you be?  You have a bedroom to yourself, plus two extra bedrooms to do whatever you want with.  Gym, gameroom, man cave, craft room, office, whatever.  Even if you want to have a devoted guest suite, you still have another room to house your junk.

Not so once you have those babies you long for, my friends!  Say goodbye to your plethora of space!  Your guest suite and workout room!  Your sanity!

See, kids generally get their own room.  And then, you only have one room to work with it your cozy 3 bedroomer.  And it has to serve nearly every purpose:  office, guest room, pet area.

I think a picture is worth a thousand words, but before I launch a photo session, here's the prequel.  I repainted this room a mossy green about a year ago and got a new bedspread from Overstock.com with a pretty, graphic white print.  We added a desk in the corner for our computers.  Oh, and most importantly, this room mainly belongs to Queen Lola and Crazy Ginny.  You'll see what I mean.

So there's the desk, complete with a hot pink chair I got at Hob Lob on clearance, and some a dresser from my great aunt that I repainted a few years ago.  It was her wedding furniture, so it's 50+ years old and was in great shape.  Not exactly my style, but definitely a freebie that I am so grateful for (it along with the bed served as the master bedroom furniture for the first 3 years of our marriage), and sometimes you gotta work with what you got!!

I think a nice touch in any guest bedroom is framed pictures of your guests - and since my parents and sister are our most frequent guests, they stay in the frames year round.  But if I love you, know you're coming, and make the time to do so, expect to see yourself in the frames too.  I just got those new curtains - the previous set was hung far too low.  I think I have an addiction: white 95" sailcloth panels from Tarjay.  Sisters of these beauties in the kitchen.

Oh, and those are cat food bowls.  Seriously.  I move them out when people come.  But yeah.  Drives me insane.  And yes, see the window sill?  Thanks, baby Landry.

Here's a shot of the bed - I do love the bedding.  And above the bed is my absolute favorite shot of Marilyn Monroe.  Gorgeous.  But alas, there are no nightstands.  No bedside lamps.  Nothing.  What?  I'm working on it.  I should probably DIY a headboard in there - the current one isn't really cutting it from a focal standpoint.  But really, why work on a room overrun with cats?  Help motivate me.

Oh, why yes, that IS a cat litter box on one side of the bed.  Thanks for asking!  You tell me where else to put it in this tiny little house and I'll try it.  Seriously.  Same goes for the bowls.  I'm taking suggestions.

Pride and joy right here.  I wondered to myself at what point you become a crazy cat lady.  And when I walked out of Petsmart with this and I was excited about it, I realized I was at that point.

So that's that.  Do any of you have pet problems?  How do you keep a showroom perfect guest room with four pets?  Or do I need to resign myself that I'm always going to have to deep clean that room and move my cat crap out of it before anyone arrives?  On the list for the next house: cat room.  They should make those.  And maybe a special little litterbox closet.  And a pristine guest room with a closed door to keep the animals out.  A girl can dream.

Meet The Pets: The Landry Edition

And now, for what I can only hope is the absolute final (for a long time) post in the Meet the Pets series, please meet Two Lowes Doomsday Defense.  We just call him Landry around here.  I'll give you non-Cowboys junkies a little history lesson - our bundle of bulldog joy is named after Tom Landry, the first coach in Cowboys history, who amassed consecutive winning seasons from 1966-1985.  Untouchable.  Who else were we going to name this pup after?  (And for those of you keeping track, he's Landry Jones Lowe.  Not after the OU quarterback.  Great Joneses.  Like Jerry.  Or Felix.)

Proudly sporting the silver and blue - Go Boys!

Surely you'll remember the day we brought this little bundle of joy home.  Who knew that sweet little baby would grow into such a lovable monster?  I'm serious.  I could write a Marley and Me-style book about the trouble this dog has caused.  But you really really can't stay mad at the Panda.  Check that face.  And the fact that he lets you dress him.  Priceless.

Here's a little backstory on how we ended up with the world's worst dog:  My parents got my brother his first dog, Emmett, for Christmas in 2009.  We Lowes, being avid animal lovers always in the market to take on more than we can handle, were smitten with this adorable puppy with an excellent personality and a penchant for snoozing the day away in my brother's lap.  Plus he was shorter than Cash, but sturdy enough to hold his own with our beloved rowdy boxer.  And really, who can resist that mug?

Emmett Angel Holloway - my neph-dog precioso

We were definitely hankering for our own bulldog after spending a week with that dude.  We quickly called the breeder and arranged to make Emmett's half-bro ours less than a month later.  And man, oh man, were we smitten.  We overlook snoring, terrible gastrointestinal issues despite his premium food, and a little bit of slobber because he truly is such a joy.

 Okay, maybe he looks a little goofy post-nap.  And when I say nap - this dog sleeps 22 hours a day.  Which is probably for the best, considering the two hours he's awake he's a total nightmare.  Maybe it's delayed and extended puppyhood, but Landry is in to EVERYTHING.  Alli's toys, our cats, whatever Cash has.  He eats, sniffs, chews on, and steals anything not nailed down.  And he's kind of an instigator.  He and Cash are best buds, but he definitely picks the fights with his older brother, only to whine loudest until Mommy comes running to break them up (usually followed with a little scolding of Cash just like Landry planned).

Cash is gagging right now.  The baby gets all the attention.

We just wuv our wittle Wanders.  But I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you, the cheapest thing we did was buy the dog.  He's been quite expensive with bouts of demodectic mange, a histiocytoma, and some serious eye issues.  Plus he can be very stubborn and training him takes a lot of patience and determination.  So please make sure you're an experienced dog owner who can spend your trust fund keeping this dog healthy.

Worth it.

And in case you missed it (or just want to relive the joy) meet Cashie, Geeg, and Queen Lola too.

Dog-saster Stories: Part 1 (I hope there's only 1)

So it was brought to my attention that when I introduced you to Cash, I didn't tell you about one of his character flaws.  In my frenzy to tell you all about his nicknames and how much he loves his mama, I totally spaced on telling you:  Cash likes to eat.  Cash likes to eat everything.  Cheese, turkey, hamburgers.  Another thing I forgot to mention:  Cash likes to shred paper.  Magazines, printer paper, he doesn't care.

Put those two things together and you've got a story on your hands, people.

Late this summer my parents and brother were up from Little Rock.  Everyone, including my sister, was staying at our house for the weekend.  We went to dinner at Herman's, a really cool locally-owned steak place here.  I'd be remiss if I didn't let you know that my mom actually took care of the original owner, Herman (obviously) during one of her college professions as a nursing home worker.  But I digress.

Herman's was fantastic, and after being gone about 90 minutes, we came home.  When we walked in, I noticed a lot of paper on the floor.  Then I noticed that they were tampon applicators and wrappers.  I laughed.  My sister must have left a box in plain sight in her luggage and Cash, of course, sought it out and ripped it up.  As I began to pick up the wrappers and applicators, laughing with everyone (there were seriously a lot of them), I had a revelation.  Something was amiss.

The tampons themselves.

My heart fell.  My mouth got dry.  This was not that funny anymore.  Perhaps he had hidden them somewhere?  He can be a little OCD, maybe he stacked them all up in a pile?  While I had my mini-freak out, Ryan grabbed the leash and the dog and jumped in the car.  I hopped in too and we didn't talk the entire way to the emergency vet, about 7 miles away in Springdale.

I called ahead to let them know we were coming.

"Yes ma'am, this is Lauren Lowe.  My boxer Cash ate about a half a box of tampons, so I'm on my way in.  Tampons.  Yes.  Yeah, like, tampons.  Uh huh.  Half a box.  Really.  Yes, half a box.  No he didn't just eat a tampon box.  I mean like the tampons themselves.  Yes, I'm serious.  Thank you."

 So in we came.  The receptionist politely asked a lot of questions.  When did he eat them?  How long has he been alone?  How many do you think he ate?  What materials were eaten?  The last question stopped me short.  I began to realize that Cash had literally stripped open each tampon, removed it from the applicator, and then eaten the cotton.  How freaking weird is that?  I don't think the receptionist believed me.

They took him back and I ran to the restroom and grabbed a cup of coffee.  As I was walking back into the exam room, the vet was telling Ryan, who was white as a sheet, "Yes, the reason we are concerned is because, well, I don't know if you know this or not, but tampons swell when wet.  So that could cause a blockage..."  Ryan looked at me with murder in his eyes.  I'd left him alone to talk tampons with someone.

About 45 minutes later, the vet came back in.  "Well, Cash threw up 15 tampons.  No applicators, no wrappers.  Just 15 tampons.  He should be good to go.  We can't guarantee you won't find a 16th one out in the yard, but he should be fine now."

So $200 later, we left.  $200 and an entire Saturday night gone for a dog who pops tampons like they are candy.

But look at that face:

Meet the Pets: The Cash Edition

It's that time again!  No, not time for your favorite self-loathing posts - it's Meet the Pets!!  Since you already know about Ginger and Lola, let's continue our chronological progression and introduce you to James Cash Lowe!

Cash trying to steal the leash

We acquired Cash on February 14, 2007.  At the time, he became our fifth (yes, fifth) pet.  We had two wonderful dogs who you will one day hear about named McGwire and Callie.  So Cash was dog #3 and pet #5 at Casa de Lowe when he came on board.

Let me tell you, for Cash and I, it was love at first sight.  Ryan surprised me and drove me to Bentonville (which seemed like a really long drive at the time).  We walked into a house where there were 3 adorable boxer puppies.  Cash promptly walked up to me and curled up in a ball to sleep on my feet.  He also happened to be the spitting image of one of the boxers I had growing up named Amos.  So we scooped him up and took home.  On the way, Ryan decided to name him Cash after his favorite singer Johnny Cash.  I was in charge of his registered name, which became Two Lowes Famous Walk the Line.  "Two Lowes Famous" is in reference to us and mirrors my parents when they named their boxer "Two Ways Famous James Amos."  And then "Walk the Line" for, of course, Johnny Cash's song by the same name.

He always has loved to curl up

Much like Lola, Cash is quite attached to me.  He follows me around the house, sleeps next to me all the time, and comes when I call him no matter who else is calling him/feeding him/snuggling with him.  I cannot help that animals naturally flock to me.  I'm like Ace Ventura or something.

Through his nearly four years in our home, Cash has aquired more nicknames than any other pet.  I'm not sure if "Cash" is easiest to play off of, or if we say his name more than any of the rest of them, but I'll do my best to list them for you and give you some frame of reference for them:

1. Cash Bash (rhyme)
2. Cashman the Trashman (because he used to, and still does sometimes, tear things up)
3. CC  (for Cassius Clay, a boxer)
4. CC Deville (developed from #3, guitarist for Poison)
5. Cashtastic (sounds cool)
6. James Cash (my boxer growing up was James Amos)
7. JC (short for James Cash)
8. JCC (James Cassius Clay)
9. Cashie (because he's so cute)
10. Cash Money (because that's how we paid for him)
11. Cash Money Millionaire (because I'm that hood)
12. Bubba (because he's Landry's big bubba)
13. Cashtabular (I don't know)

I stopped.  I have more.  

Cash has been a great dog.  Unlike his brother, he is easy to shame.  He ducks his head and makes a sad face when he gets in trouble.  He also wiggles his body almost in half when we walk in the door because he's so excited to see us.  Ryan can even make him talk when he's all wiggly - it sounds like "a-roo-roo-roo."  I'm trying to get him to say "mama."

Cash is also a bit of an athlete.  When it's cool, he runs with us.  He's also an excellent jumper.  We call him our little reindeer.  And he hates being dressed up.

I will post this one and spare him the bumble bee picture

And there you have it.  Yet another Meet the Pets is drawing to a close.  Get excited - the final is coming up.  If you liked Lola and Cash, but loved Ginger...you're really going to love Landry.

Meet The Pets: The Ginger Edition

And now, for the long awaited second edition of the Meet the Pets segment here on the Lowe Down [To catch up on the Meet The Pets that you missed, click here for Lola].  Buckle up, you're about to meet the cat that takes crazy to a whole new level.  Please meet Ginger Gene Lowe.

 

No really.  That's probably the best picture I have of her.  I want to you really get a feel for her personality.  We got Ginger in the fall of 2006, about 3-4 months after we got Lola.  Lola was so wonderful, who wouldn't love a second cat?  Enter the Geeg.  Miss Ginger Gene (Ginger for the orange tabby coat and maybe a South Park reference by Rlowe that I didn't catch until much later; Gene is my grandma's middle name and it kind of flowed) was rescued from Death Row at the Fayetteville Animal Shelter just a week before her number was up.  Maybe it would have been more humane to let them go through with it. 

 

You've never met a more distrubed cat in your life.  Her sweet side is really great - she's snuggly, she lets you hold her all the time, she actually meows and wags her tail at you when she sees you, she stands up on her back legs to get your attention, her purr sounds like a freight train.

 

But then there's the other side.  To help me explain the crazy side, let me attempt to list the things that upset Ginger:

• towels
• sponges
• pillows
• cardboard boxes
• blankets
• things out of place or that have changed position
• sudden movements
• the cat crate
• Lola (every once in a while)
• Landry (all the time)
• new people (not just new people she's never met, new people who haven't been to the house in the past hour)

Any one of these things triggers Ginger's fight-or-flight reflex.  She prefers flight, which involves hissing, scratching, and spitting as she darts across the floor to the nearest bed or thing she can hide under.  We have all had deep wounds from holding Ginger when a trigger of her fear was around.  Not pretty. 

 

The fight reflex is more fun to witness.  Basically, she approaches the object, slaps it with her paws until she has beaten it into submission, hisses and spits at it, and then lays on it.

 

 

These nicely folded towels waiting to be put up incurred the wrath of the Geeg before they gave in to her.  

 

Ginger also gets lost a lot.  Not lost outside (yet) thank goodness.  [Neither of our cats is allowed outside, and yours shouldn't be either.  Read more about that here.]  But she does tend to dart out the back door, so we have to watch her.  More frequently, however, Ginger gets lost in the house itself.  Like shut in closets or the laundry room.  When I haven't seen her in a while, I usually tear the house up calling her name, only to find her sleeping in the floor of my closet and looking up at me like "What the heck is your problem?"  This triggers a small wave of rage from the husband, who frequently wonders why we spend 10 minutes tearing the house apart looking for a little dumb 7 pound cat who won't even come when we call her...but then he starts getting worried too until we find her. 

 

And sometimes, we don't find her.  Sometimes we give up, resign ourselves to the fact that she must've slipped outside, and begin to make plans for having pillows and blankets around again.  But then she walks out, looks at us like we're the crazy ones, and hops up on the bed to go to sleep.  Only to hiss and spit for a little until the pillows give in.  Again.

I need to add another part to the pet series because...

We've added to the family!!  That's right, we're crazy pet people.  Animals once again outnumber people at the Lowe house.  Though we haven't reached our high of 5 at once, we are bursting at the seams over here.

So, without further ado, please meet Landry!  He is a brown and white piebald English bulldog puppy.  He is my parents' dog Emmett's half brother.  We just have really fallen in love with Emmett (especially Alli) and Ryan has always loved English bulldogs.  So we contacted the breeder and she had this little guy available.  Isn't he adorable?  Look forward to more info about him in part 4 of the Lowe Down pet series.

 

Meet the Pets: The Lola Edition

And now is time for part 1 of a 3 part series here on the Lowe Down.  [Edit - Now a four part series. We gluttons for punishment have added to the farm. See pics of the new member here.]   My entire life, pets have been very important to my family.  They are almost like children around here, so I'm going to introduce you to them one blog at a time.  First up, the pet we've had the longest:  Miss Lola Jo Kitaen Lowe.  That's "Ki-tain", as in Tawny Kitaen, the girl that rolls on the hood of the cars in the Whitesnake video.  I don't have a good reason why, that's just her name.

We adopted Lola as a six week old kitten from the Humane Society of Pulaski County.  At the time, we had 2 outside dogs (Callie and McGwire) and I was jonesing for a pet in the house.  Alli was...maybe 18 months?  I think.  I just asked Ryan and he agreed with me, but he usually agrees with me so that's not really a good confirmation.  We'll roll with it though.  That would mean we got her in early summer 2006, and that sounds about right.

Lola was the tiniest kitten in the cage with the HUGEST ears you've ever seen.  We used to call her Bat Cat.  Take a look:

Isn't she just the cutest?  Not long after we got her, I was home alone and couldn't find her anywhere.  I tore the house up for three hours, made Ryan leave work, got hysterical, and then found her asleep between the pillows on our bed as he walked in the door.  He was not that happy about it.  But she was so tiny!!  Here she is playing with Alli:

The intent with the entire cat acquisition, so I told my wary husband, was to have an inside animal that was "Alli's" for her to love.  But, because people and animals are just naturally drawn to my inner beauty and calm, Lola rejected our original plan for her (as is Lola's nature) and chose me.  I can't say I tried too hard to stop her either.  She follows me everywhere, sits in my lap, and only snuggles with me.  And I like it that way. 

So Lola is now 4 years old and is your very very typical cat.  This is a key point in our pet dynamic, because for those of you who know, we also have another cat who is NOT a typical cat.  But that will be part 2.  Back to Lola Jo - she's snooty, everything is on her terms, she's not very cuddly, and she sleeps a lot.  She's also kind of a chunk-a-lunk (my family calls her Queen Latifah, which is just not nice).  So why do I like her?  Do you even have to ask?  Let's review:

• She's a snob.  
• She's bossy.
• She's low maintenance.  
• She loves me best.

She sleeps on my side of the bed, only after everyone is asleep and still.  She gets up with me and sits with me while I get ready in the morning.  She stops in front of you when you are walking and rolls on her back so you can rub her belly - but don't rub too long or she'll bite.  She HATES Cash.  Like chases him down when he looks at her funny.  One time Cash stepped on Ginger (not a hard thing to do, you'll see that in part 2) and Ginger reacted badly (man, you are really going to enjoy part 2) and meowed loudly and Lola flew across the room and attached herself to Cash's face, spitting and hissing.  Poor Cash was running and shaking his head trying to get her off.  No one steps out of line with Queen Latifah around.

So now you know Lola a little better.  If you're lucky enough to meet her and then are lucky enough to get to pet her (not a given), scratch her chin.  She loves it.  But again, don't scratch too long.