The Price We Pay for Love

Cats are jerks.
They are jerks because sometimes they pee on your bed, or your dog's bed, or your kid's princess bean bag.
They are jerks because they can't be bothered to accept your love when it's convenient but insist upon it when it's not.
They are jerks because if they throw up, it's always on the carpet or a comforter.
But mostly, they are jerks because they leave us before we are ready for them to go.

Holden left us Thursday morning. 

He was 16, or thereabouts.

His decline was swift; I brought him to the vet the previous Thursday because he'd stopped eating. After some blood tests, a liver infection was determined, and we picked up a prescription of antibiotics as well as some canned food for him to enjoy.

He ate two small meals but then refused anything else. Then he peed on my bed and the couch in short succession.

In a panic, I took him in again on Tuesday, and we had a urinalysis done as well. His urine was extremely diluted, but there was no infection, and there was no fever. 

He'd lost half a pound since Thursday.

At that point, the vet knew it wasn't just an infection, but she gave us an appetite stimulant to see if that, combined with some force feeding in the meantime, would bring him back around.
But even in this attempt, she wasn't optimistic. Having seen him Thursday and again Tuesday, she saw such a change that she….she just knew.
We had the discussion.
But I really really really really really really really hoped that things would change.
But they didn't.

Have you ever force fed a pet? I don't recommend it. It's heartbreaking. And not only did I have to force feed my baby boy the stinkiest food on the planet; I also had to force two pills down his throat.
It tore me up.
When he continued to refuse food, I knew.
He was tired, and it was time.
We decided to let him go Friday. That decision to wait was a little selfish; I know. But we still had a small hope that the appetite stimulant would, in some miraculous way, bring him back.
Hope springs eternal, after all.
Thursday morning, he couldn't walk. I ran into the bathroom, where Husband was showering, and let him know, and he called the vet.
But Holden, who always hated car rides, had no desire to make one more trip. He lay himself down, and I knew that his time was close. I petted him, and I told him that if he needed to go, I understood.
A few minutes later, he was gone.
I was holding on to him. I held him as he came into our lives, and I held him as he left.

Holden was my first Christmas present from Husband when we were first dating. Underneath the Christmas tree at his uncle's in Pinetop in 2000, I opened a package that contained a gift certificate to the Arizona Humane Society. He knew I loved cats, having grown up with them (Punkin, Scooter, Tiger, Blackie, Fanny, and Roy, throughout my first 18 years), and that I wanted to have my own cat as an adult.

So, over the Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend in January, 2001, we took a field trip to the Humane Society, planning to bring home a cute little kitten.

But alas, there were few kittens that day, so we meandered through the adult cages.

In one of the bottom cages, two golden, beseeching eyes looked up at me, begging to get out.

We took him to the private "preview"room, and it was all over. 

I was smitten.

A gorgeous, orange white creamsicle of a cat.

We were told he was three years old and had been relinquished because "he pees on things."

And he was all mine.

And he did pee on things. Everything, it seemed like. But then our vet at that time diagnosed him with urine crystals, which, common in neutered males, is extremely uncomfortable. After changing his food to a low calcium prescription diet, he barely peed inappropriately (except for when he got pissed about Zooey coming into our lives, but I'll let that one go - new puppies can be traumatic for a cat).
We had almost-fourteen almost-pee-free years together.

Wherever we went, Holden went with us. He was our first little family member.
When we moved to Michigan so Husband could complete his master's degree, Holden came with us. He learned to live in sometimes-harmony with my in-laws' cat Pepper and Akita Chili (who rolled him exactly once).
When we moved back to Arizona, he came back and happily took to being an "only child" once again, likely relieved that the damn Akita was no longer in his midst.
When we moved into our house, he claimed his space quickly.
When we brought Zooey home, he was pissed but at the same time relieved that the upstairs was (until Zooey stopped peeing on the carpet because she couldn't tell that it was Not Grass) his domain.
When HRH was born, he claimed her, and her room, as his.

While he was loved by all members of our family, including Zooey, he was always My Cat. He knew, somehow, that I was the one who chose him and helped him find freedom from his little cell at the Humane Society. I was the one who cleaned his toilet. I was the one whom he woke in the mornings to feed him.

He was my boy. And I was his human.

Last night, I dreamed that it was a few days ago, and I brought Holden a can of food. Instead of refusing it, he perked up and ate it all, regaining the vigor he had lost.
You can make of it what you will; I know it's his way of saying he's OK now. He's not in pain. He's happy. He's comfortable. He's free.

Run free, my sweet boy. Thank you for the years of love that you gave to us. You were the first member of our little family, and we our house will never be the same in your absence. 

I will never forget you. 

Grief is the price we pay for love.

And despite the pain, I'd do it all over again.

I love you, Kitty Man.

#Reverb14 · June Prompt · Staycationing

#reverb14 is an opportunity for participants to reflect throughout 2014. Each month, the Reverb team will post a new prompt. Join and write, or simply join and read.

June Prompt: It's summer time, and the livin' is easy. Tell us about where you are RIGHT NOW. Tell us about your summer time at home. Does "home" mean heading out of town for the season? Does it mean an extended staycation? What does summer at home mean to you?

Even though I work from home, it's nice to have a few weeks (4, to be exact) during which I don't have to open my work computer. I'd be a big fat liar if I said that I wasn't completely burned out at the end of this school year and needed a break like nobody's business. After over a decade in the education world, I'm starting to wonder what's next more and more.

My vacation started this week. So far, I've made ice cream, marshmallows, chocolate-sweet potato muffins (in which I forgot an ingredient, but they turned out pretty good anyway), chocolate-sweet potato-banana bread, strawberry-rhubarb-apple empanadas (aka hand pies), and I'm planning to try a slow cooker cinnamon roll recipe a friend shared with me this weekend. I'm working on a baby blanket that will hopefully be done by said baby's first birthday (oops). I am attempting to clear off the dining room table so we can actually eat a family meal at it, but since Husband was gone for a class all last week, total neatness has been…..not A Number One Priority.

Guess which one was the sacrificial "taste test" empanada?

I've also been working hard on my PT and trying to get back in the routine of walking Zooey, who was left to her own devices last week when Husband was gone; HRH doesn't get up early enough to go in the morning, and I won't leave a 5YO home alone. Once she's at school, it's too hot for Zooey's paws. In order to give her the opportunity to get that extra energy out in a positive, non-destructive way, I sent her to doggie daycare for a day last week, and she was OMGSOHAPPY about that.

A rare snap of a peaceful coonhound, post-walk

But this morning, I just wanted to sit and do nothing. I'm not going to have many opportunities to do Nothing while I'm on break; I still have my summer session class, which is….not my favorite, but it will fill the bill. I had hoped to do as much work during my own break as possible, but my professor only posts one week's worth of readings/assignments at a time, so that doesn't seem likely (he said he likes to make sure we are all engaged in a similar direction at the same time or….something like that).

And if my own class weren't enough to keep me busy, I've scheduled Lots of Things for HRH to keep her busy before she begins kindergarten. Right now, she's taking swim lessons every day for two weeks (this is on top of her regular weekly lessons, so at the end of this week, she'll have had 12 lessons over the two week period). She's also taking two summer classes at her dance school - the next level of ballet to make sure she's ready for it and musical theatre, which combines all of her favorite things: singing, dancing, and being overly dramatic. On Thursday, she'll go from school to swim to ballet. I've promised her we can go out to dinner and that she can have whatever she wants, since she'll be exhausted. I'm hoping that in a few weeks she can do ballet camp, which will mean ballet two hours every day for the week.

Yes, that's a lot, but since we can't just go outside to play during the summer months, both HRH and I need activities that can keep her busy so that we don't revert to "just watch a movie while I wash the dishes." We all need our down time, but I don't need to train her to be a couch potato, either. We have been discussing how much she loves to swim, and she said to me, "It's too bad that some people don't like to exercise."

I won't let her become someone who doesn't like to exercise.

There are some mornings that have been cool enough to warrant an early trip to the park down the street, which we tend to finish off with a splash in the kiddie pool I bought for Zooey. The city recently put up a ramada over the playground equipment, so it's actually pleasant in the shade. We have one rule for how long we stay: when the water is nearly gone, we head home. HRH is extremely dedicated to following this rule and pays careful attention to her water consumption, although the promise of banana bread, muffins, or other tasty treats as a return snack probably doesn't hurt, either.

But our summer will also include a trip up to Michigan to see family and get out of the heat. I'm excited that we can actually go outside and play in the park when we want, and we've got plenty of activities to keep her (and us) busy, although we're planning for a few days of (almost) nothing but R&R on Lake Michigan. My mother-in-law got the extra bike tuned up, so I'm hoping that Stephanie gives me permission to go for a ride or two while we're up there, but I'll settle for going for hikes or walks if I have to. I finally feel like I am getting stronger (more on that in my weekly PT update), and I don't want to undo almost two months of hard work.

I guess the short version of this post could have been, "what's a vacation?"

Six

Yesterday was Zooey's sixth birthday.
Surely she didn't care about presents and fanfare, but HRH did, so after I picked her up from school, she convinced me to stop at the store to get party hats, candles, and a balloon.
Considering the day I'd had, I was only too happy to get my dog a birthday balloon if it brought joy to my little girl.
So, things I've learned:

1. Holding a phone, dog treats, and a party hat while trying to put a balloon around a dog's leg is not the smartest or easiest feat ever.
2. Coonhounds have no fear of eating a lit candle when said candle has been plunked into an easily accessible pupcake. 

Narrowly averting disasters makes any birthday party more exciting.
Thankfully, I did get Zooey and HRH to take a few cute (albeit fuzzy because kid and dog) snaps to commemorate the big 0-6 before letting Zooey dig in to her treat while HRH enjoyed a chocolate-sweet potato muffin.
Happy birthday, sweet Zooey. You're my running buddy and constant companion. I hope you live forever, because I can't imagine my life without you.

Her birthday present - the Kong Wobbler

"Give me the entire treat bag for this."

The birthday girl and her party planner

"Take the damn picture - I want my pupcake!"

Going...

Gone. Who needs to chew? Or breathe, really.

Do you have birthday parties for your furry family members?

Reverb 14 · May Post · Spring Cleaning

#reverb14 is an opportunity for participants to reflect throughout 2014. Each month, the Reverb team will post a new prompt. Join and write, or simply join and read.

May Prompt: How are you cleaning out your life and cleaning out your writing in preparation for a new season?  Reflect.  Photograph.  Think.

May is my "month off" between the end of my spring semester courses and the course I'm taking in summer school. Not that I actually have a vacation; my own classes don't have their finals for another week, and then I have End Of School Year Stuff. By the time I'm actually on vacation, my summer course will have begun.

Basically, before I submitted my last exam, my schedule looked like this: work, school, HRH school, HRH ballet, HRH swim, try to keep the house from looking like it should be condemned.

Currently, my schedule looks like this: work, HRH school, HRH ballet, HRH swim, try to keep the house from looking like it should be condemned.

And this summer, my schedule will look like this: school, HRH school (she'll continue through the summer at her daycare/preschool before Kindergarten starts in the fall), HRH ballet, HRH ballet camp, HRH swim, HRH swim camp, HRH cowgirl camp (hopefully), try to keep the house from looking like it should be condemned.

(I don't even want to make that list for the fall when "school" means kindergarten and all the things that go along with kindergarten; I've had to create a new calendar group just for HRH's stuff)

If the state of my house is any clue, I'm not good at cleaning out ANYTHING, including my life or my writing.

I mean, really - how does this even happen?

This is what I'm thinking about every day this week.

It's not that I want my house to be dirty. And to clarify - my house isn't dirty; it's just messy. So it's not that I want my house to be messy. I'm just not the tidiest person; I never have been. I'd like to be, but…leopards and spots and such. To compound that, there are only so many hours in the day. And not washing the dishes every night is the choice I've made.

It's the choice I've made because we (Husband and I) have made the decision to sacrifice some other things, including our time. I'm going back to school, and he's taken a position as an instructor at one of the community colleges here. So he's not only working all day, but then he's either gone at night teaching a class or grading/prepping for his class. I can't remember the last time I read something of substance that wasn't for an assignment, and I've spent more time in front of a computer screen than not.  There IS an up side, though. Once I get my masters, other, more flexible doors, can open for me, so I can ensure that I'm able to get HRH to the activities she pursues. Husband's instructor pay is both paying for my tuition and going into HRH's college account.

But because we've opted to make those time sacrifices, the time we do have with HRH during the week is not going to be spent with her having to amuse herself after I've worked all day because I need to wash a pan or vacuum a rug. So I read to her, and have her read to me (last night I read her The Cheese; she read me Llama Llama Home With Mama); we learn about the plant cycle on her newest science app; we have tea parties with fake tea but real sugar. And since Husband generally has Fridays off, they have a standing date for lunch (usually it's at Chick-Fil-A) and some sort of "field trip" while I'm working. This week I think they might go to the Science Center; she's interested in outer space again.

We rarely clean pans together.

So this weekend, I plan to actually clean - that pan and the rest of the house - and hope that "this time," I'll be able to keep a handle on it over the summer.

OK, maybe next weekend. HRH has something going on this weekend.

Little Try-Athlete

HRH has been going to weekly swim lessons for almost three year now. Swimming is, obviously, a skill that Arizona kids need to have; there are so many pools here that it's really not a luxury.  While Husband was a simmer in high school, I'm not much of a swimmer; I get panicked when my face is in the water, but I'm trying very hard not to project that irrational fear to her.
Thankfully, she doesn't seem to have picked up on my proclivity for non-water-related activities and has come a long way from sitting at the edge of the pool crying for the entire 30 minutes. Right now she's in the "Star" level and is becoming proficient in both the crawl stroke and the backstroke. She's loving every second of it.
Last weekend, the swim school hosted a "try-athlon." I signed HRH up for it the second I heard about it, and I've been playing up the excitement ever since.
Of course, it wasn't a regular triathlon; to make sure the kids stayed interested, the swim and run legs were obstacle courses; the cycling leg was deemed tricky enough, since several kids, HRH included, are less proficient on those training wheels-encumbered bikes than their swim strokes.
For the swim, the kids jumped in the pool inside a giant floaty (probably not the technical term, but we've established that I'm not hip to the pool lingo) and swam to almost the halfway point. Then they had to go over one lane marker and under another before they swam to the other end, where they had to toss a basketball into a hoop.
HRH struggled once she got out of the floaty; 25 meters is farther than she's ever swum. But the coaches were great; there were always enough coaches in the pool (and more on the deck) to make sure all the kids made it safely regardless of their ability level.

Blurry action shot - HRH is the one still in the air.

This was right as I tried not to panic when her face went under water.
Deep breaths, Momma.
Now I know how Michael Phelps's mom feels (sort of).

Her transition time needs some work; she didn't really cooperate with me as I put her socks on (she insisted on socks because she wears socks with her running shoes), but once her shoes were on, she was off to the bike.
I've actually been suggesting that she get a little bike for a while, and she's resisted, saying that she's happy with her tricycle. So it was no surprise that she was hesitant. Once again, the coach came through and helped her the entire way (a giant loop on one side of the blocked off parking lot), even though it seemed like HRH pedaled less than half the time.

Finally, the running. This was the longest distance, although not terribly far in HRH's estimation, and there were five obstacles. The first I honestly can't remember - I think it involved jumping, but I was trying to get close for a snap and missed it. Then she had to jump rope four times, hula hoop five times, crawl through a big pipe, and run through a "human car wash" before crossing the finish line.

And at the finish, water and orange slices as runners accepted their participant medals.

She just loved it. She's already game for another triathlon and has decided that she does actually want a bike after all.
Of course, I'm ridiculously proud of HRH. While she has swum, biked (OK, triked), and run before, the longer distance in the pool and the obstacles that were put into place could have thrown her off. But she kept her cool, especially when she began to struggle in the pool (it took all of my energy NOT to panic) and asked the nearest coach to help her. Being able to speak up when she really needed it and continue with an activity even if some parts (the biking) were a little scary is a quality I want her to have, and now that she knows the exhilaration of success, I think that the event really cemented that lesson.
And now it's time for me to get healthy so we can do a race together someday.

Reverb 14 · February Prompt · Heart

#reverb14 is an opportunity for participants to reflect throughout 2014. Each month, the Reverb team will post a new prompt. Join and write, or simply join and read.

February Prompt: Show us your heart. Let it all hang out. When have you thrown yourself into a challenge, or shown/received love?

"When we feel love and kindness toward others, it not only makes others feel loved and cared for, but it helps us also to develop inner happiness and peace."
(His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama)

Since the day she was born, my daughter, HRH, has had my heart. Yes, I love my husband more than crude English can convey. But my child….every mother knows the magical love that this bond holds. I love her unconditionally, even though there are some days that I don't particularly like her.

Those days, lately, have been more common. As the princess grows physically, mentally, and emotionally, she's also testing her boundaries more and more. Who knew that small humans would have such personalities? (HINT - not me - I really had no idea that someone that small could have such large opinions) Combine that with the emotional roller coaster that comes with being five…wow.  There are some days when I feel that I've barely eked into Newton's category of "fittest." Survival is a Real Thing, even in the suburbs.

So when it was hard to like her even though I love her with all my being, we had to do something.

Enter the Kindness Chart.

Each week, kind and unkind acts are being tallied. If more kind acts are tallied than unkind ones, HRH is allowed to participate in swim and ballet. If there are more unkind acts than kind ones, or if there are more than five unkind acts in a week, swim and ballet are cancelled for the week.

In case you're curious, ballet is A Really Big Deal in our house, so missing it on account of unkindness? Unspeakable horrors.

While in some sense, this is, in fact, bribery (and I'm OK with that), it's also a way for a five-year-old to start understanding that kind and loving acts actually benefit her, even if it doesn't seem that way at first. After all, it's difficult for many grown people to comprehend that a kind word to a stranger has positive effects to more than just that stranger, so applying it to situations that HRH can understand can help her comprehend the larger picture as she grows older.

And then….an unexpected benefit.

"Mom?"
"Yes, peanut?"
"I love you so much."
"I love you so much, too."

"Mom, I just really love you."
"I love you, too!"

"Mom?"
"Yeah, sweetie."
"You're the best."
"Aww, thanks! You're the best, too."
"No, YOU'RE the best."

"Mom, Dad makes THE BEST pancakes. They're the best in the world."
"He certainly does. We should thank him for making sure you have pancakes for breakfast all week."
"Can you call him so I can say thank you to him?"

They keep coming. Suddenly, being aware of her kind actions has made her want to be as kind as possible. While surely some of this arises from the desire to have more kind acts tallied than unkind ones in order to ensure swim and ballet each week  (while optimistic, I'm not completely blind to this), I see a marked change in HRH. While she still fights us about going to bed some nights, and she doesn't always do what we ask her to do the first time (or the second time…and when she finally does what we ask, it's not always cheerfully), she is more cognizant of the consequences of her actions.  She is creating cause and effect relationships that show she's thinking before she takes an action, at least most of the time.  When she receives a gift, she more often than not thanks the person right away or tells me she needs to write a thank you card.  She offers us fruit leathers when she gets one for herself (even though she always gives us the apricot ones, because those are her least favorite).  And the other day, she became extremely worried that Megan needed a proof of life:

"How's Ms. Megan doing?"
"She's fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Uh…pretty sure." (nothing like a 5YO causing you to doubt your answers)
"Is she all right?"
"I think so.  She was yesterday."
"Can we FaceTime her just to make sure?"

Yes, Ms. Megan was fine.  We didn't FaceTime her, although I remembered later that HRH had tried to FaceTime her the day before when we were trying to call my mom, so maybe she was concerned because Ms. Megan didn't answer (I stopped the call, as it was later in the evening).  Who knows.  I texted her with a request to let us know that she was, indeed, "all right," and we were all good.  HRH was extremely relieved.

Being kind isn't always easy.  But when I know that my child is thinking of others, it's worth those days when I just want to survive until bedtime.

"Where there is love, there is life."
(Mahatma Gandhi)

Reverb 14 · January Prompt · Routine

#reverb14 is an opportunity for participants to reflect throughout 2014.  Each month, the Reverb team will post a new prompt.  Join and write, or you can join and read.

January Prompt: Have you started a new routine this January?  Is this routine different from last year?  Is it the result of a resolution or goal you're working on?  Tell us about your days.  How do they flow?  If you'd like, maybe give us a full "day in the life" or just some snippets.

Routine is not something that comes easily.  As much as I'd like to be a little more regimented in my life, I fully admit that I let the small variables make a big difference in What Happens each day.  HRH was not a baby fed or put to bed on a regular schedule; we figured that when she was hungry, she'd eat (and oh, she did, until I stopped nursing her).  And depending on whether or not I run, I get up at different times in the morning.

Of course, now that I'm nursing shin splints (AGAIN), my routine is all thrown off, thanks to my Not Running At All.

However, I am working to settle in to a new - and workable routine in order to make sure that I have enough time to include my two masters classes into the week.

Just typing that sentence kind of makes me anxious, even though I've already gotten almost a week ahead of schedule in one class and am right on schedule in my other one.  But I'm not really taking anything OFF my plate.  HRH still preschool twice a week as well as swim and now ballet (a Christmas present).  I still have a job, and Husband has both his job and his new role as an instructor at the community college.

Staying busy is not a problem for us.

So far, if I get up when my alarm tells me to (which has been 50-50 of late), I'm able to get in a "regular" work day and get in dinner and HRH's bedtime (facilitated by Husband whenever he's home) before I sit down to study.  I'm planning to dedicate weekends and the hour I sit at ballet to the time that I get my required reading in.

In a nutshell, my weekdays go by thus:

• 5:30: alarm
• 5:30-7: run/walk/yoga/coffee
• 7-8: HRH up, breakfasted, dressed, ready
• 8-5: work
• 5-8: HRH various activities, dinner, "hang out" time
• 8: HRH bedtime
• 8-10: study, yoga (as necessary), bedtime

I try to bank at least 20 minutes of relaxation time between when I am finished with work/school/HRH's bedtime and my own bedtime.  If I don't, my mind races, and I have trouble sleeping.  If I can, it's yoga or meditation, but some nights, I want ghost hunting shows (my favorite variety of fluff TV).

Weekends?  Currently a free for all.  Prayers for my shins to heal so that order may be restored are always welcome.

The End of More; the Beginning of Study

The word for 2014 is study.

Last year, my Word of the Year was More.
Specifically:

• More miles
• More family time
• More charitable donations

I am happy that, for the most, I did more.  I ran more miles in 2013 (558.91) than 2012 (427.7).  I put a lot of emphasis on spending family time together, making sure that some fun activities like the Polar Express involved all three of us, even if that took a little more effort/planning to make sure Husband wasn't working or traveling for work.  I don't feel like we made a huge impact on the charities I had planned to focus, but with apps like Charity Miles and some other donations that came up mid-year, I feel like I have made a more positive impact on the world than in past years.

As I turn the calendar to 2014, I am also turning a page in my own life.  This semester, I am officially a Northern Arizona University Lumberjack, working towards my masters in English.

I have hemmed and hawed over my masters for far too long; Husband graduated in 2007, and since then, it's been "my turn" to go back.  Some days I would think that I needed to get my masters in Something Practical (read: not English).  Some days I would think that I needed to study What I Love (read: English).  Finally, the days when I thought the latter far outweighed the former, and the decision was made.  I'll be taking all my classes online, which does restrict my class options a little, but I will be able to take some electives within the education college, which will in turn help me add some practicality to my new degree, which I should earn in December 2015.

As such, while I will continue to run more miles, spend as much time with my husband and daughter as possible, and give back when and where I can, my main focus for 2014 is on myself and my books.  Hopefully the work-life-school balance will be manageable in the first half of the year; I'm counting on HRH's entrance into kindergarten next fall to allow me a greater ability to focus on work during the work day so my school hours can be more tightly focused as well.

I've always loved learning, and I was a good "traditional" student (I still take notes when I'm reading books for fun), but after not having been in a class since 2002, I'm also a little nervous.  I'm not new to online learning (after all, I teach online now), but it will be a new perspective being a student.  That being said, I'm excited at this new chapter in my life, and I can't wait to see what doors it may open to me!

What is your word/motto for 2014?

Reverb 13 · Prompt 13 · Favorite Things

#Reverb13 is a prompt-a-day series for the month of December that is meant to give participants the chance to reflect on the past year and take the opportunity to write down some hopes for the coming year.

Prompt 13: Give us a list of your favorite things from 2013.

Considering the backlash against the newly remade, live version of The Sound of Music, I hope that you'll take more kindly to this post, but if you don't, I promise that I'll respect that and not tell you that you need Jesus.

Baking some goodies in dozens of batches,

Picking out pumpkins from big autumn patches,

One little girl in her ladybug wings,

These are a few of my favorite things.

Cranky old kitty who just wants to be fed,

Snuggling up to me when I'm in my bed,

Stealing my chair when I get up for things,

These are a few of my favorite things.

Black and tan coonhounds with big Frito feet,

Running in all kinds of weather ('cept sleet),

Velvety ears that I hold out like wings,

These are a few of my favorite things.

ASU games and pork belly at dinner,

Reading with Daddy and big soccer winner,

Anniversary wine tasting up at Page Springs,

These are a few of my favorite things.

When the dog barks,

When the kid screams,

When the cat makes me mad,

I simply remember my favorite things,

And then I don't feel, so bad!