I Want All the Dogs

Ever go out somewhere and there is a dog and you do your best to make him love you the most? Whether that means ignoring other people, standing in front of March Madness because you don’t want to disrupted the sleeping beauty or completely secluding yourself from the group to another floor in the house- you’ll do anything to hang with the little monster! Most recently, I was visiting with friends at their home for a little St. Patrick’s Day celebration. As we were parking I noticed some paw prints in the snow (like a psycho or FBI Agent) and I realized our friend was bringing over his brand new lab puppy! Night. Made.

Suddenly, I was on full alert. A dog! There is a puppy inside! “Be cool, Ellen,” I thought. “Don’t let them know just how excited you are.”

I do this thing where I talk to my dog like he can answer the questions I’m asking him. It’s weird and most people don’t get to experience this wonderful bond we share, until now. So as I hurried downstairs missing the last step, I turned the corner and began to fire off questions to the little ball of furry love.

“Well hello Mister!”

“What is your name?”

“How old are you?”

“Where are your toys??”

My little man is a 100lb Great Pyrenees so we haven’t been able to hold him since he was about 10 weeks old. So up into my arms his little unwilling muppet body went and I would have held him until my arms fell off if he wasn’t so unhappy being squeezed to death.

To make a long story short: I got so wrapped up in the dog that no one else got the chance to pet him. I bogarted that dog. Smelling him. Kissing him. Grabbing his little feet. I could not get enough. I was like an addict.

Sometimes I’ll be with someone and they’ll start nonchalantly showing me pictures of their dog on their phone. I will internally seem calm. Little do they know I’m thrumming with the excitement of a thousand-person drum line. They’ll scroll through about ten photos or so, mesmerized and then shake their head, snap out of it and apologize to me. TO ME. “Sorry! Haha! You don’t need to see all those pictures of dogs that look exactly the same.”

Yes. I do.

I need to see all the pictures of all the dogs.I need to see him playing with a ball or cuddling on the sofa. I need to see him wrestling with you on the floor. I need to see him before AND after he got groomed. Most importantly I need to see them sleeping.

There have been many times where I have altered my destined course to cross paths with this four legged wonders. I like to know their names and their breed. I’m somewhat of an expert on dog breeds- I chalk up all of my knowledge to my “Puppy in my Pocket” collection.Which was quite extensive and impressive. My best friend growing up was a dog mostly because I was an only child and couldn’t handle other human beings.It wasn’t until my mom and I came up with a deal- she gets remarried- I get a puppy brother. Because we all know I would have joined the circus if she brought another human into the world.

Well enters Pat- my stepdad not the dog- and we get Max the very rambunctious Bernese Mountain Dog puppy. He did anything but listen- he chewed flooring, ate loves of bread and dug holes so far deep we could have buried bodies in them. Well Pat and I decided one day that Max needed a dog sister and we got Bailey- the Harry Houdini of dogs. So to my poor mother’s surprise she was now the mommy of 2 very large dogs. The rest is history!

For an addict like me, the summer is prime time. Suddenly, the way ladies bare their knees in sundresses and dudes flex their muscles in colorful tanks — the dogs are out on parade. Every person I pass on the street seems to be walking the cutest dog I have ever seen. Each one is fluffier and sweeter than the last. I want to touch them, but it’s not appropriate so I settle for secretly gawking at them from a few feet away.

I try to get my dog fix in any way I can, but it’s not easy to do it without blowing up my spot. Addicts have to be sort of stealth in order to avoid interventions and public concern. I’d be mortified if someone was like, “Um, did you just take a picture of my dog?” Because I can’t explain that there are AT LEAST 10 people off the top of my head who would love to see your wonderful puppy- most people just don’t get it. I’d rather be caught sexting.

So…I love dogs. If you have a dog, I would like to see it and/or meet it Email me a picture at theoxfordguide@gmail.com I’d love to see them!



11 Reasons That Prove You’re a 20 Something Grandma

So I wanted to lay the groundwork that I’m not actually playing up this popular “oh I’m really just a grandma.” I love Facebook, selfies and fast wi-fi. Whenver I have the opportunity I will go out dancing. My closet is filled with crop-tops, short skirts and heels. However they are never worn together because I’d be cold and uncomfortable and that’s not enjoyable for anyone involved. My name is Ellen and my future husband’s name is Donald- when we meet new people it sounds like someones parents with a solid stock portfolio will be joining them for drinks. Let the record show I once cried to my mom because my grandmother’s 90 year old neighbor’s name was Ellen and all I wanted to do was be named Crystal.Those were my younger years.

On a serious note I hate being out past my bedtime and I worry that I’ll be cold to wherever I’m going out so I carry a sweater with me. I keep nutrition bars in my purse next to my sewing kit. I make comments like “she really should have a jacket on” and “this music is way too loud for my taste.” I just began cross-stitching so I have something to do while I watch my shows. So here are a few more reasons that you too might be a 90 year old born in the 80s.

You prefer calling someone up to texting.

You’re not one to be glued to your phone texting, you’d much rather call and hear their actual voice. Plus I can’t figure how how to change “gaga” to “haha” and I get too frustrated so I just call.

Weekends are for housework and dust bunnies.

When Friday hits and you’re like “I could go out, or I could catch up on my laundry and housework instead. Plus the girls in the office almost ruined the ending of “This is Us” so I should get caught up.”

You tend to be the advice giver.

You’d probably be quick to say that you are far from having it all together. After all, you are by no means perfect, and certainly will never claim to be. Yet, among your friends you are still the person people go to when they need a lending ear.You might not always have the answers, but the feeling of being needed is something you definitely appreciate.

Your choice in music isn’t necessarily modern.

One of my best friends is the girl you go to if you need to brush up on current hits. She knows all of the lyrics and can tell you the other best songs off the albums that haven’t been butchered by the radio. While I’m hoping the DJ will mix in some Earth, Wind and Fire or Johnny Cash into his playlist.

You have an ‘old soul’ approach to life.

Whether you’re giving advice to your friends or reminiscing about the ‘good ole days,’ you tend to talk about your life like you’ve already lived it.

You’re always a little chilly.

Doesn’t matter how warm it is, you always manage to feel cold. Even if it is a sweltering summer day you still bring a light sweater in case the air conditioning is a little too strong.

You need to go home when you’re tired.

Being stuck out with friends once you’re tired is your idea of hell. They say you’re ride will be here in 45 minutes or they aren’t ready to leave hurts your heart. Once you get sleepy, you just need to leave. There isn’t a second wind coming your way because that bitch blew through at 3pm.

Cleaning is your mistress.

When you clean your kitchen and bathroom really well you get an immense sense of satisfaction. You feel complete because there is nothing better than coming home to a clean home. Also when you try and new cleaning product that works just as you hoped or better… euphoric.

Loud anything irks you.

Loud-mouthed people are the bane of your existence. Bars that play their music too loud are avoided like the plague. You value the peaceful nothingness that is silence, but you can tolerate ‘inside voice’ level if need be.

You always dress appropriately during the colder months.

When you rug up for a night out in winter, and can’t fathom how on earth you used to go out without a coat.

You’re fully aware of your grandma like tendencies.

Nothing anyone says will change you. You’re set in your old fogie ways and there’s nothing wrong with that. Your friends know how you are and they just let you live your 80 year old lady life.