If you remember correctly, we have a running score on Chipson's clever attempts at our lives. Since our last post of 53:0 we attempted to even the score with one of my favorite pastimes...
Chocolate.
Apparently eating half a bag of dark chocolate chips is not so healthy for a dog. For that matter it warranted an emergency room visit and a hospital stay. So yes Chipson, the score is now 53:1
Unfortunately, the score didn't stay like that for long. Today, Morgan and I left the pup at home as we went to play our late-night soccer game. We always bet what sort of smelly surprises she left us, and what thing she might have destroyed, but never could we have guessed that this particular night Chipson was once again plotting to kill... or at least cause a big enough explosion that she would be free and able to come find us!
When we returned home the strong smell of gas greeted us and so did a peculiar sound of rapid ticking. Quick as he is, Morgan darted up the stairs to find the stove had been turned on and the pilot light was snapping away, flame lit, gas filling every crook in the house.
Well Chipson, good try, for that matter, I'll give you ten points, but seriously that could have been bad, real bad.
With the new score of 63:1 I'm not going to lie, I might start leaving out chocolate on purpose... but then again it is kind of fun having your pet be your arch nemesis.
Till next time Chipson Dipo, till next time.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Lessons learned at the paddle
It's a good thing Chipson learned to swim, because summer is FINALLY here and we are definitely a water-loving family.
To embrace one of the first warm days of the year (ok, so this post is about a month old) Morgan and I decided to take the pup out canoeing. We left the camera at home, rented canoes from UW tossed her in the middle and pushed off the explore the arboretum.
Naturally, we were nervous about Chipson being on the boat, and so we left EVERYTHING in the car having accepted the fact that there was a good chance we'd end up in the water. Sure enough, Chipson was going nuts on the boat, hopping from my lap to Morgan's feet and going from side to side trying to bite at each droplet of water. Needless to say our nerves were heightened and our cores feeling the strain of the balancing act.
We paddled into the calm waters of the arboretum, caught a few turtles and basked in the sunshine. After a few hours Chipson's interest in the water had tripled and her frantic jumping encouraged me put her on my lap and hold tight so she wouldn't tip the boat. Her ears went back into submission, her heartbeat subsided, and I thought we were in the clear.
I was wrong.
In the blink of an eye, the weight was gone from my lap and Chipson was engulfed by water. As her head surfaced panic set in as she desperately clawed for the boat and I began pulling my jacket off ready to dive in after her (which looking back, would have been the absolute worst thing I could have done)...
Chipson obviously gave up on me in my stupor and her desperate eyes turned to Morgan who pulled her back on the boat as if he was plucking a leaf from the lake. He really is amazing.
She sat in the canoe shivering uncontrollably as we paddled our way back to land. When we pulled up on the beach Chipson leapt into the sand and as a sailor kisses the ground after returning from months at sea, Chipson peed instantly for a whole minute. We walked five steps and she let loose again. Without exaggeration in less than 7 minutes Chipson peed over 15 times. Morgan and I were doubled over in laughter and if our tummies weren't hurting before they sure were now.
Fortunately the remainder of our paddle was full of ease now that Chipson had learned her lesson. I'd like to think that she does learn lessons, but now that I think about it, outside of what time we give her food, and a couple of circus tricks, I am not sure that she has ever learned anything. On the contrary, she has Morgan and I wrapped around her little paw and we are learning every trick she teaches us.
Lucky dog.
To embrace one of the first warm days of the year (ok, so this post is about a month old) Morgan and I decided to take the pup out canoeing. We left the camera at home, rented canoes from UW tossed her in the middle and pushed off the explore the arboretum.
Naturally, we were nervous about Chipson being on the boat, and so we left EVERYTHING in the car having accepted the fact that there was a good chance we'd end up in the water. Sure enough, Chipson was going nuts on the boat, hopping from my lap to Morgan's feet and going from side to side trying to bite at each droplet of water. Needless to say our nerves were heightened and our cores feeling the strain of the balancing act.
We paddled into the calm waters of the arboretum, caught a few turtles and basked in the sunshine. After a few hours Chipson's interest in the water had tripled and her frantic jumping encouraged me put her on my lap and hold tight so she wouldn't tip the boat. Her ears went back into submission, her heartbeat subsided, and I thought we were in the clear.
I was wrong.
In the blink of an eye, the weight was gone from my lap and Chipson was engulfed by water. As her head surfaced panic set in as she desperately clawed for the boat and I began pulling my jacket off ready to dive in after her (which looking back, would have been the absolute worst thing I could have done)...
Chipson obviously gave up on me in my stupor and her desperate eyes turned to Morgan who pulled her back on the boat as if he was plucking a leaf from the lake. He really is amazing.
She sat in the canoe shivering uncontrollably as we paddled our way back to land. When we pulled up on the beach Chipson leapt into the sand and as a sailor kisses the ground after returning from months at sea, Chipson peed instantly for a whole minute. We walked five steps and she let loose again. Without exaggeration in less than 7 minutes Chipson peed over 15 times. Morgan and I were doubled over in laughter and if our tummies weren't hurting before they sure were now.
Fortunately the remainder of our paddle was full of ease now that Chipson had learned her lesson. I'd like to think that she does learn lessons, but now that I think about it, outside of what time we give her food, and a couple of circus tricks, I am not sure that she has ever learned anything. On the contrary, she has Morgan and I wrapped around her little paw and we are learning every trick she teaches us.
Lucky dog.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Chipson Learns to Swim
An ongoing frustration with Chipson has been her fear of swimming. Many times we have taken her to a beach where we throw ball after ball into the water just to see her get up to her chest, at which point she gets scared and runs back into our arms.
However, today at Magnuson Park we came prepared with shorts and sandals to help coax her. We started with me wading out to my knees and just calling to her. She was visibly upset that I was risking my life in such a way, but she still wouldn't venture beyond her elbows. That's when I called in the professional - Jenny. She also brought along a stick that Chipson had shown some interest in.
The insanity of her parents' decision making was now taking a toll on Chipson. Plus, that delicious stick was tempting her from only a few yards away. Not wanting to spend any more time alone, Chipson began to venture out. First to her paws, then to her elbows and chest. But that darn stick was still just out of her nose's reach. And her parents just seemed so confident she could get it! Crazy, right?
Suddenly, a small wave pushed the stick tantalizingly closer as we egged her on. This was Chipson's window of opportunity - now or never. Mustering all of the puppy courage she had in her, she made one final, desperate lunge for the stick. But alas, the lunge was poorly timed, a little too ambitious, and ended up just pushing the stick out further. Plus, Chipson now found herself in deep water and it was time to sink or swim. And swim she did! She missed the stick and began swimming to deeper water thinking she had pushed it even further. Now her dad had to make a decision....was it time for him to get wet and rescue her? Nope, a little whistle got her going back in the right direction towards shore where she was rewarded profusely with love.
We're such proud parents!
PS> We would have taught her much earlier, but the weather lately has really stunk.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Chipson Reunites with Uncle Duke
Here are some neat pictures that Jenny took from our most recent trip to Spokane to celebrate my dad's 60th birthday...obviously, Duke has warmed up a lot more to Chipson:
Cuddles
More cuddles
The Dipo's go for a walk. Chloe tooted on my shoulders.
Duke and Chipson stand watch....in a very poor position.
Derp!
Chloe goes for a swing.
Mom, the party host.
You'll notice that someone is missing from a lot of these pictures....I'm trying to get Jenny into more of them.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
A little note times ten
Last night for FHE, Morgan planned an activity where we each wrote ten small notes about the other and then hid the note somewhere that the other person would randomly find over the next few weeks. It was so wonderful to channel my thoughts into ten little notes, and I was so excited for Morgan to find his. Little did I know mine would come with gifts too!
I have to share with you this note I just found, because it really is too sickeningly adorable, and honestly made my day - so maybe you should do something like this for someone you love.
Taped across my credit card was the following:
"Everything I ever have is now yours! I want you to be super happy with yourself, so take this card, and go buy yourself some new shoes, some chocolate, a new special hat, etc. You deserve it!"
Oh how I love my Morgan. Unfortunately, since I used my lunchbreak to write this blog, I will now have to wait until tomorrow to go shopping, but I will definitely go buy some new shoes AND chocolate, sheesh Morgan, twist my arm.
I have to share with you this note I just found, because it really is too sickeningly adorable, and honestly made my day - so maybe you should do something like this for someone you love.
Taped across my credit card was the following:
"Everything I ever have is now yours! I want you to be super happy with yourself, so take this card, and go buy yourself some new shoes, some chocolate, a new special hat, etc. You deserve it!"
Oh how I love my Morgan. Unfortunately, since I used my lunchbreak to write this blog, I will now have to wait until tomorrow to go shopping, but I will definitely go buy some new shoes AND chocolate, sheesh Morgan, twist my arm.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Doggy Daycare
Well, we've come to find out that having a puppy isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's not all snuggling, playing, wrestling, going for walks, teaching new tricks, etc. There's also pooping, peeing, separation anxiety, chewing, whining, and destroying of homes without human supervision. She's a darling when we're around, but when we're gone.....well, she let's us know that she doesn't appreciate it.
So, we decided to sign her up for doggy daycare so someone else could deal with the negatives of us not being able to be around her all the time. Strangely, you can't just give a doggy daycare cash and have them watch your dog whenever you want. First, your puppy has to be "accepted" to their prestigious educational institution. Then, the dog has to make tryouts to be on their weekly schedule. We found this all out the week before Jenny was going to start her new job, so we had to move quickly, and if Chipson didn't make it, we would have had to leave her as master of the house while we were gone.
On Friday the 4th, we went snowboarding and left Chipson at the daycare for her varsity tryouts. Remarkably, she didn't even notice that we handed her leash to someone else as we left. And when we came back, we were told not only that she had made the team (pack), but also that she was a perfect sweetie the whole time. One of the daycare workers said she played very nice with the other puppies, and that when she got tired, she would just come and cuddle up on the nearest human's lap. So, she also made the starting rotation so that we could bring her in Monday-Friday!
Now, we bring her in every morning, and pick her up every night, and she's the happiest pup in the world. And the big bonus is that she also gets all the exercise she needs, so she's just a big puddle of cuddle when she gets home. Now, Jenny just needs to find something like that for me.....
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
A Note About Perfection
I was asked to write a spiritual thought for our Relief Society this month, and though it has nothing to do with our puppy, or Morgan's awesomeness, I thought it would still be nice to share here. Enjoy.
Last night about 50 million people tuned in to watch the Academy Awards. They critiqued and admired the perhaps thousands of stars dressed in what they would consider their very best. For months the women had been dieting and trying new ways to sculpt perfect arms. For weeks they had met with designers and stylists trying to stay ahead of the styles and create that groundbreaking beautiful look that journalists would praise. As these gorgeous women stepped onto the red carpet nerves, fear, and self-consciousness flooded their thoughts as they desperately attempted to portray confidence. Many of these women have been on a no food diet. Many exercise 4 hours a day, and many are addicted to various drugs that pump their bodies with adrenaline and caffeine thus hyping their metabolism. These unhealthy bodies are cloaked in diamonds, fine materials, and excessive makeup. Some have gone into serious debt to pay for their appearance. But they know they are under critique and as a star and a model to the world they are obliged to be what the media coins “perfect.”
So we sit back and soak in “perfection.” We watch from the comfort of our homes in old sweats with a big bowl of pasta wondering why our bodies don’t look like theirs. We admire the clothes, the makeup, the accessories and hair, curious if we could ever look so beautiful. This handful of women, not even half a percent of our country’s population represents the ideal, the standard by which we will judge ourselves for another year. We agree with the journalist when it is noted that so and so has put on weight, or that some other girl had an outdated dress. We admire, we critique, we get it, we now know what “perfect” is.
But do we? Sisters, these women attended parties last night drinking away their sorrows, their stress, and their pain. Many went ‘home’ to truly broken homes with a number of divorces already behind them. Few have children, and those who do are forced to deal with teaching them how to be perfect children of perfect people. A great number of lives have been cut short by substance abuse, but at least they looked good on camera.
These are not perfect lives. How dare we degrade such a divine concept, perfection, with images of sickly women bathed in material beauty? What is perfection? What should I look like? What should I wear? Who should I be?
As Christ says in Matthew 6:24; 28-33“Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment? And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin. And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.”
Strive to be perfect in the way the Lord would have us be. Our healthy lives, our softer bodies, our chaotic homes bursting with Christ-like love, families and happiness, our $20 dress from Target is far more perfect than most of those beautiful idols flaunting “perfection” will ever be. By looking to them as models, we are setting ourselves up for self-deprecation, depression, and angst. Look to yourself; look to the example of the Savior. Be proud of the beautiful and original woman God made you to be. Flaunt your own shape, delight in messy joyous children, celebrate a life without debt, and be confident in knowing your divine worth. Be a perfect you.
Read tonight a few scriptures about being perfect and throw away those images of what you deem to be a truly beautiful woman, and replace it with a picture of somebody you admire: perhaps a grandmother, a sister, or maybe even you. May I suggest 3 Nephi 12:48, Psalms 101:2, James 1:4, Moroni 10:32 and Deuteronomy 25:15.
Oh Sisters, we are so blessed to have good role models in our lives, but more importantly, we are blessed to know that we are daughters of God, and he made us unique in so many ways. Abraham Lincoln once said, “Whatever you are, be a good one.” I completely agree and therefore encourage you to be a perfect you.
With love,
Jenny Dipo
Last night about 50 million people tuned in to watch the Academy Awards. They critiqued and admired the perhaps thousands of stars dressed in what they would consider their very best. For months the women had been dieting and trying new ways to sculpt perfect arms. For weeks they had met with designers and stylists trying to stay ahead of the styles and create that groundbreaking beautiful look that journalists would praise. As these gorgeous women stepped onto the red carpet nerves, fear, and self-consciousness flooded their thoughts as they desperately attempted to portray confidence. Many of these women have been on a no food diet. Many exercise 4 hours a day, and many are addicted to various drugs that pump their bodies with adrenaline and caffeine thus hyping their metabolism. These unhealthy bodies are cloaked in diamonds, fine materials, and excessive makeup. Some have gone into serious debt to pay for their appearance. But they know they are under critique and as a star and a model to the world they are obliged to be what the media coins “perfect.”
So we sit back and soak in “perfection.” We watch from the comfort of our homes in old sweats with a big bowl of pasta wondering why our bodies don’t look like theirs. We admire the clothes, the makeup, the accessories and hair, curious if we could ever look so beautiful. This handful of women, not even half a percent of our country’s population represents the ideal, the standard by which we will judge ourselves for another year. We agree with the journalist when it is noted that so and so has put on weight, or that some other girl had an outdated dress. We admire, we critique, we get it, we now know what “perfect” is.
But do we? Sisters, these women attended parties last night drinking away their sorrows, their stress, and their pain. Many went ‘home’ to truly broken homes with a number of divorces already behind them. Few have children, and those who do are forced to deal with teaching them how to be perfect children of perfect people. A great number of lives have been cut short by substance abuse, but at least they looked good on camera.
These are not perfect lives. How dare we degrade such a divine concept, perfection, with images of sickly women bathed in material beauty? What is perfection? What should I look like? What should I wear? Who should I be?
As Christ says in Matthew 6:24; 28-33“Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment? And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin. And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.”
Strive to be perfect in the way the Lord would have us be. Our healthy lives, our softer bodies, our chaotic homes bursting with Christ-like love, families and happiness, our $20 dress from Target is far more perfect than most of those beautiful idols flaunting “perfection” will ever be. By looking to them as models, we are setting ourselves up for self-deprecation, depression, and angst. Look to yourself; look to the example of the Savior. Be proud of the beautiful and original woman God made you to be. Flaunt your own shape, delight in messy joyous children, celebrate a life without debt, and be confident in knowing your divine worth. Be a perfect you.
Read tonight a few scriptures about being perfect and throw away those images of what you deem to be a truly beautiful woman, and replace it with a picture of somebody you admire: perhaps a grandmother, a sister, or maybe even you. May I suggest 3 Nephi 12:48, Psalms 101:2, James 1:4, Moroni 10:32 and Deuteronomy 25:15.
Oh Sisters, we are so blessed to have good role models in our lives, but more importantly, we are blessed to know that we are daughters of God, and he made us unique in so many ways. Abraham Lincoln once said, “Whatever you are, be a good one.” I completely agree and therefore encourage you to be a perfect you.
With love,
Jenny Dipo
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Big Baby
We have had our pup for almost 3 weeks and she has grown 20%!!! Can you imagine growing that much bigger in 3 weeks? Just imagine the growing pains, and seriously no wonder she seems to eat every leaf, root, dirt clod, paper, trash and cord laying around... Ok, I'll admit it, she eats everything - but can you blame her?
The other day I left her in the car (which I had been doing often, and won't anymore) for about 15 minutes. When I came out, despite four chew toys and bones scattered about my car, she had eaten half way through my seat belt. It is no longer functional. So, what does that count on the point system? An attempt to take my life? I think it deserves 50 points which brings the total to:
Chipson 53 Morgan and Jenny 0
Good thing she has a cute face, and is in every single way adorable and cuddly. Oh I love her so much. Why must she be out to kill us?
The other day I left her in the car (which I had been doing often, and won't anymore) for about 15 minutes. When I came out, despite four chew toys and bones scattered about my car, she had eaten half way through my seat belt. It is no longer functional. So, what does that count on the point system? An attempt to take my life? I think it deserves 50 points which brings the total to:
Chipson 53 Morgan and Jenny 0
Good thing she has a cute face, and is in every single way adorable and cuddly. Oh I love her so much. Why must she be out to kill us?
Friday, February 11, 2011
Chipsonitis
Since Morgan wrote about his pup-related injury, I thought I'd share mine. This morning, I awoke to a sharp pain in my right ankle/calf tendon (despite the fact I studied biology, I avoided anatomy like the plague and will thus refer to it quite comfortably as my ankle/calf tendon). As Morgan limped about this morning with his broken foot, I, perplexedly, followed suit and the two of us hobbled about. I had not figured out the origin to this tendonitis until I took Chipson out for her morning jog, when suddenly it all came clear.
Every day if I want to maintain sanity and control in the house I take the pup out for a nice long run or a MILLION walks. Since she is a puppy, I am not supposed to really 'jog' with her until 18 months, but with her energy I cannot justify running on my own and walking her recommended few minutes a day. Yea right, this dog needs SERIOUS exercise. So today despite my inflamed tendon, I had to take her out, and hoped the jogging would help with the pain. Not even two minutes after I started running Chip darted in front of me, turned and jumped up causing me to stop fast, mid-run, in an awkward lunge. BAM SWOOSH OHEFPOEPOJFWOIEHPOJSF LIGHTNING PAAAAAIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNN!
And with the flash of pain, a flash of understanding came over me. This habit of darting, turning, jumping and stopping me in my tracks is completely common for our little Chip - thus creating a seriously inflamed tendon. So, Chipson 2, Morgan and Jenny 0.
Someday, I pray, we will figure out a compatible running program. Because, quite honestly, if Chip isn't running, I may lose all the skin and feeling in my wrists and hands. A teething, overly-energized puppy is no match for my once peaceful life, but Chip, I am learning, and as you lie in your bizarre post-run stupor, I am plotting ways to tame you, to calm you, and hopefully even the score.
Every day if I want to maintain sanity and control in the house I take the pup out for a nice long run or a MILLION walks. Since she is a puppy, I am not supposed to really 'jog' with her until 18 months, but with her energy I cannot justify running on my own and walking her recommended few minutes a day. Yea right, this dog needs SERIOUS exercise. So today despite my inflamed tendon, I had to take her out, and hoped the jogging would help with the pain. Not even two minutes after I started running Chip darted in front of me, turned and jumped up causing me to stop fast, mid-run, in an awkward lunge. BAM SWOOSH OHEFPOEPOJFWOIEHPOJSF LIGHTNING PAAAAAIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNN!
And with the flash of pain, a flash of understanding came over me. This habit of darting, turning, jumping and stopping me in my tracks is completely common for our little Chip - thus creating a seriously inflamed tendon. So, Chipson 2, Morgan and Jenny 0.
Someday, I pray, we will figure out a compatible running program. Because, quite honestly, if Chip isn't running, I may lose all the skin and feeling in my wrists and hands. A teething, overly-energized puppy is no match for my once peaceful life, but Chip, I am learning, and as you lie in your bizarre post-run stupor, I am plotting ways to tame you, to calm you, and hopefully even the score.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Break a leg! (foot)
So, Chipson challenged me to a wrestling match last Friday. Not being one to deny a challenge, I gave her my best shot....and ended up with a broken foot.
There I was, running all around the house with the dog always close behind. At one point, I was at the front of the couch, while she was at the back. She had been chasing me round and round, but was growing bored of the game. To spice things up, I slowly made my way to side of the couch to lure her to chase me again. As soon as she started moving, I made my move and hurdled the couch on one miraculous display of athleticism....almost. My left foot clipped the backrest on the couch, and my controlled bound turned into an awkward fall. Seeing my impending doom in front of me (our hutch that sits several feet behind our couch was threatening to disfigure my face), I made a split-second decision to sacrifice my right foot.
I didn't hear the classic "pop" that most broken bones make, but I definitely knew something wasn't quite right. So I rubbed some dirt on it, walked it off, and coach put me back in. Ok, not really. As soon as Jenny was done drying my tears, I put some ice on it, and went to bed. I spent a few days limping on it before we noticed that there was some meaningful bruising going on in the area I had hurt. Sure enough, after seeing the doctor today and getting x-rayed, I have my first broken foot! My fifth metatarsal has a well-defined crack in it, but there is apparently not much we can do about it except wait it out.
Chipson: 1, Morgan :0
(Not my foot)
There I was, running all around the house with the dog always close behind. At one point, I was at the front of the couch, while she was at the back. She had been chasing me round and round, but was growing bored of the game. To spice things up, I slowly made my way to side of the couch to lure her to chase me again. As soon as she started moving, I made my move and hurdled the couch on one miraculous display of athleticism....almost. My left foot clipped the backrest on the couch, and my controlled bound turned into an awkward fall. Seeing my impending doom in front of me (our hutch that sits several feet behind our couch was threatening to disfigure my face), I made a split-second decision to sacrifice my right foot.
I didn't hear the classic "pop" that most broken bones make, but I definitely knew something wasn't quite right. So I rubbed some dirt on it, walked it off, and coach put me back in. Ok, not really. As soon as Jenny was done drying my tears, I put some ice on it, and went to bed. I spent a few days limping on it before we noticed that there was some meaningful bruising going on in the area I had hurt. Sure enough, after seeing the doctor today and getting x-rayed, I have my first broken foot! My fifth metatarsal has a well-defined crack in it, but there is apparently not much we can do about it except wait it out.
Chipson: 1, Morgan :0
(Not my foot)
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