This post is so random, I can't think of a title.

Dracen made it through the day fine yesterday and seems to be completely back to normal.  Normal for Dracen is jumping over furniture and climbing the door frames.  "Dracen!  Stop it!  You have stitches in the back of your head, remember!  Do you want to bust them out and have to get more?"  I must have said that ten times yesterday afternoon and evening.   "Oh, right.  Sorry, I forgot", he'd say and then a few minutes later he'd go ahead and "forget" one more time.  

It's a thousand wonders I don't have a head full of nothing but gray hair.  

And speaking of hair, I had the most bizarre, and somewhat disturbing, dream last night.  I can't recall all the details but the part I woke up thinking about was the nose hair mustache...In the dream I had this really long, disgusting hair on my upper lip that I think was possibly coming out of my nose. (I'm talking Cheech Marin-ish hair) I know!  Eww! And I was standing in the mirror when the realization hit me that hey, I have the power to change this with a little help from my friends... Scissors and Razor.

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What in the *bleep* was that all about?!  I don't even have upper lip hair.  I mean, I guess everybody has some but mine is so fine and light that it isn't visible.  And long nose hair?  Blech! That's something only 85 year old men get, is it not? 

Disturbing. It was was of those dreams you wake up from and think, "Thank God that was only a dream!" and then "What is wrong with me?!" 

Anyway. Moving on...

The acorn massacre seems to be subsiding a bit.  I cannot imagine how there can possibly be more than three left on the trees since you absolutely can't take a step anywhere in the front or backyard without stepping on one. or fifty. I was sitting on the back deck a little over a week ago and the trees were firing them out like missiles, one after the other.  

It felt like I was in the middle of a war zone.  Lucky Dog, who is afraid of his own shadow and has to sport a Thundershirt when it storms was minding his own, enjoying the perfect, warm, fall weather while lying under the oak trees when BAM! out of the blue, he got smacked hard with one, jumped up whining, yelping, and hightailing it back to the safe zone of the deck.  

In his defense, he did collapse on death's doorstep here just four months ago because some ignorant, shotgun totin' redneck filled him with buckshot.  

But he is living the good life now.  Seriously. I think he believes  that he died and got reincarnated as a spoiled little Dachshund. He gets down on the floor and crawls and I'm convinced it's because he's trying to be short like the wieners.  It's really quite sweet.  And hilarious.  

The behavior I do not find hilarious and sweet, however, is the deep, obnoxious, very loud howl he bellows out when it thunders or he thinks he hears something suspicious outside. I call it his belligerent drunk howl and announce that Lucky's been hitting the bottle again each time he starts in with it.  

Another bad behavior he's developed is that of chewing up pencils, pens, hair clips, stuffed animals, and the Dachshunds' clothes.  And no, they don't wear clothes every day but sometimes I can't help myself.  

Just the other day I caught him with Brisco Darling's horse costume from the Halloween before last though I strongly suspect B.D. put him up to that one since sporting it was not one of his prouder moments.  

Neither was the shark costume he wore last year so I'm guessing it's next on the hit list.  

Speaking of Halloween costumes (for dogs), I was at TJMaxx the other day when I saw some football costumes in all sizes.  I was going to get Brisco and Lucky each one but since they didn't have a cheerleader costume for Charlene, I passed.  

And with that statement alone, you have probably all now officially chalked me up as completely bonkers.

And I wonder why I have crazy dreams.