Tag Archives: embarrassment

A Long Time Coming (Part One)

It’s been two weeks since RomantiCon and I’m sure y’all were all wondering where my review was. Well, life gets crazy. I swear, since the beginning of October, I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. By the way, do chickens really run around after their heads are cut off? I may have grown up in the country, but we didn’t have chickens. My uncle did, but those little fuckers were mean and I never went around them. I left that to my brother and cousins. Cannon fodder.

Anyway, RomantiCon. Le sigh. Oh RomantiCon. I wish you could last for longer than four days. Honestly, I think I told Lea Barrymire that I wished life was RomantiCon interspersed with writing and reading and family time. Why do we have to come back to the real world after such a great, long weekend? Why? (Imagine me falling to my knees screaming this to the sky. Because I can be melodramatic too.)

I got there on Wednesday, arriving a day before the actual conference started. First off, let me just say I had a layover in Tampa, had about three Bloody Mary’s with this 80-something year old lady who was on her way to Baltimore for the Ravens’ game. I asked who they were playing and she said, “I don’t know, I’m just going to party.” Hell yeah! I had to have drinks with her after that. So by the time I got to Ohio, I was feeling pretty good. Found the shuttle and settled myself in the middle row while the driver went to find other passengers headed to the hotel.

But when he returned, it was with seven…Cavemen. Now when I’m traveling, I’m not in Danica mode. I’m in me mode and me, I mean I don’t dress up, wear just enough makeup to not scare little children and my hair is always in a pony-tail. So you can imagine my horror when I look up to see the seven buff, attractive Ellora’s Cave cover models headed my way like they were strolling out of a Quentin Tarantino. You know, slow motion, the wind whipping around them, shades on…cue the awesome soundtrack.

The driver says, “I have more people than I thought, maybe you’d like to take the passenger seat?”

Y’all, I jumped out of that van so fast I probably looked like someone had pushed me out. All I could picture was me being squished on that seat surrounded by muscles while looking like holy hell and it was enough motivation to get me moving faster than I’ve moved since my brother kicked me in the nose and ran away from me. I caught him, by the way. Anyway, I was safely seated in the passenger seat, buckled up and smiling brightly when seven very muscled men forced themselves into the van. With Aline Hunter perched on the stool between me and the driver. Good. God.

This is trouble waiting to happen. And it was just the first day of the conference!

I’m not going to give a blow-by-blow assessment of the whole conference because I have pictures for that. Yes, pictures. But, I will say that I really wish it wouldn’t have ended. And there were some highlights for the conference. Mainly me trying to take out three cavemen during one of the group shots on Bollywood night. Yeah. Totally. Bad shoulder + saree + kneeling to take a picture = Danica is stuck on the ground. I may have used Rodney’s broad shoulder to hoist myself to my feet wherein my saree fell apart right there on the stage. Yup, it started unraveling. Thank god I was wearing full on clothes underneath. For everyone’s sake.

Before the sauri and knock-down-the-cavemen moment

I did two workshops this year. The first one was “There’s an App For That” and OMG, we had so much friggin’ fun! I mean, seriously, we had so much fun I think I want to do it again next year. Slightly different of course, but look for yourself!

From left to right, Lea, Me, Jose, Ramrod, Griffin and Cara

Two of the teams trying to get the position right with the aid of Tyrone, Tammy, John and Judy…(The blowup dolls)

We had guest judges, Desiree Holt, Joey Hill and random audience participant Nancy overseeing the antics

Then Saturday, I took my turn with the cavemen. Okay, for two days in a row, there are photo shoots. The cavemen are made available for “book cover” like pictures with the registrants of the conference. Last year I took two pictures and I was so nervous and scared and ecstatic, I thought I was going to pass out. This year, I was a little more comfortable. Until I got up there.

You want me to what?

        

This was after Daivd grabbed my hair because “I know it gets in the way.” Um.

Then I become a giggling mess…

 

A hysterical giggling mess because David, the lovely man behind me, began to hump me

This is the final shot. In the others I was laughing too hard for you to see anything but my mouth.

Tomorrow, I’ll continue the saga of RomantiCon as told by blow-up dolls. Needless to say, we had a blast and I’m already gearing up for next year. Oh, what am I saying? I was ready for RomantiCon 2014 as I was checking out of the hotel on Monday morning. It’s the best fun you can have with…well, I was going to say with your clothes on, but mine fell off at Bollywood and the Cavemen walk around half-clothed most of the time. Well, it’s still fun.

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The Pre-RT Panic

I’m sure I’m not the only person going through their checklists of what they need to pack. I’m also sure I’m not the only person attending RT who couldn’t sleep because they were trying to make sure they didn’t forget anything. Or hop out of bed at midnight to make sure they packed a necklace they probably won’t wear the entire convention. Right?

I barely slept last night and I don’t think it was because of Vikings’ season finale. It was a nail-biter for sure, but I’m honest enough to know I’m anal when it comes to packing. I also doubt my sleepless night was due to me taking a four-hour nap yesterday morning. I didn’t mean to do it. I woke up early, had a cup of coffee and then it started raining. Oh, it was so lovely to huddle in my bed with the drapes drawn, the rain pattering the roof, my dog snoring at my feet and…voila, I slept four hours.

When I woke up, I was so not motivated to do anything. I didn’t want to pack. I didn’t want to read. I didn’t want to write. I just wanted to veg out, but later in the afternoon I knew I had to make an attempt to get last-minute items. Like a few extra shirts or something. Just in case I decide to change clothes twelve times in one day. What? You don’t do that? Anyway, I’m in the dressing room at the store trying on a new top when I look at my legs in the mirror.

Holy crap! Y’all, I swear it looked like I had elephantiasis of the thighs. Like I was smuggling two piglets in  my pants legs. I forgot that I’d been using a stepper to work out. At least I hope that’s the reason it suddenly looked like my quads were going to burst out of my jeans, but holy hell…I’m never wearing those jeans again. And if you see me at RT, don’t stare at my thighs. *shudder*

Anyway, the panic is starting to set in. I just know I’m going to forget something I really wanted to take with me. All because I had to have a stupid necklace I probably won’t remember to wear. Meh. But it’s okay. I’m going to have fun anyway.

If you’re going to be at the convention and you want to stop to chat, just look for the woman with fire-red hair with blonde and pink streaks. That’ll probably be me.

I’ll also try to keep y’all up on what’s going on. Be sure to follow me on Twitter: @danicaavet and Facebook so you can see pictures of the convention first hand! Sort of. LOL

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Men In Review

Yup, it’s about that time again.

First off, it’s Friday. Woot, woot. But not only that, it’s the Friday before RT. *runs around screaming* I need to pack, I need to get my hair done, my nails done, buy things for the trip, print out my itenerary, make sure I have deodorant…Eeeee!

What? I’m not allowed to be excited? Let me just say now that if I don’t return from Kansas City, it’s quite possible I’m in jail and am too afraid of my mom to call home. I wonder if they’d let me blog from behind bars. Nah, it won’t be that bad. I’ll be with Lea and Cassandra. They won’t let me get in too much trouble. Right? I’m sure one of them will keep me leashed.

Anyway, because I’m too distracted by upcoming plans to pack and getting ready for hair appointments and stuff, I’m going to do a review today and a review next week. What am I reviewing? The men who’ve visited this blog since the beginning of the year. I think. I might have enough Friday’s for that. *starts counting* I might have to turn this into a three-week review. Hm, we’ll see. But, I’m hoping once I’m at RT, I’ll be able to schmooze the cover models at the party for interviews. Trust me, I’ll bring my mojo to RT.

So without further ado…

Caveman David:

david1

Oh David…I can’t even begin to count how many conversations have revolved around you. And do you blame anyone? Not only is David beautiful physically, he’s a great guy.

This was perhaps my favorite part of the interview with him:

Danica: Have you ever read one of the books you’ve modeled for?
David: I’ve only read one romance novel when I was 13 and it taught me a lot about sex and woman, haha. But not yet a romance novel that I have modeled for. I’m sure it would make me blush.
Danica: It would only be fair since he made me blush too.

Awww. If he weren’t so impossibly handsome, I’d be tempted to pinch his cheeks for being so cute. Um, I’m not talking about the lower cheeks, y’all. Honest!

LaBare’s Kelii:

Kelii was recommended to me by Caveman and author, Justin and I’m pretty sure I owe him a drink or a hug of appreciation. Kelii was a great interview, very fun and okay, he made me blush a few times.

Tio Photos

Danica: What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done as a model/dancer?
Kelii: I did an office party and it never happened to me in the 6 years I was dancing. It was an office birthday party. The lady I was dancing for had her own office. I was dancing for about five minutes with the door open and there wer e a couple of people inside. Next thing I know the door was closed and my pant were down. And my penis was in her mouth
Danica: I was blushing the entire time, y’all, but I had to ask what he did next.
Kelii: After about a good 15 minutes I was finished and we are continuing our adventures as we speak.
Danica: Y’all can’t take this plotbunny away from me. Don’t be surprised if there’s a book based off of this…just sayin’.

I’m pretty sure this one question was enough to send a lot of people into spasms of delight. Er…not those kinds!! Perverts. I mean that it was so blunt, it shocked them. Tickled them pink. You know what I mean! *shuts up*

LaBare’s Garren Luce:

Garren came to me through Justin and Lea Barrymire. Lea had interviewed him for her Tattoo Tuesdays (which you should check out if you don’t already) and he said he wouldn’t mind being shared by us. Okay, just as a little background, Lea and I frequently share men. But it really isn’t as naughty as it sounds. I wish it was…really.

Garren_3

Danica: Are you a breast or a butt man?
Garren: Definitely an ass man! Big booty is a must, LOL
Danica: Which probably makes doggy style more comfortable.
Garren: Lol there is nothing like watching a big booty bounce back and forth against my lower stomach.
Danica: <silence>

Yeah. I think I put my phone down after this question. We conducted it via text messages and I was like ‘Holy cow.’ I’m still thinking that. Really.

LaBare’s Antonio:

Antonio was another recommendation from Justin. I swear, he was pimping Unearthly Musings hard at the beginning of the year. I wonder if I could fund a trip for him to continue pimping me out at other dance clubs…I need more men like these. Between Garren, Antonio and Jose (Ellora’s Cave DJ), I’m learning all kinds of new terms for sex and stuff. They make me feel like a dirty old lady, but I’ll take it because they leave me speechless.

Antonio 1

Danica: Favorite position?
Antonio: My favorite position would have to be taking a girl to Poundsberg from behind.
Danica: This is where I did a choking snort kind of thing that caused my dog to stare at me. I’ve never heard it called Poundsberg before…

Poundsberg. POUNDSBERG y’all. ‘Nuff said.

And that’s all for this week! Be sure to stay tuned as I’ll try to report from RT…do my “You should’ve been there” thing and rub it in your faces. Just kidding! Bwahahaha. What about today’s review guys? What was your favorite part of their interviews? (Besides the pictures of course!!)

Happy Friday, peeps!

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Pork and Beans

Welcome to the blog for another What’s Playing Wednesday!

RT is right around the corner and I’m starting to get the pre-trip panic. You know, making lists so I pack everything I need and a million things I don’t need. Like, do I really need to bring a cute stuffed squirrel with me? Of course I do! It’s not a real squirrel by the way. It’s a plush stuffed animal and oh so adorable. I think I posted pictures of it somewhere.

But because RT is creeping up on me and the frantic need to start packing has started to keep me awake at nights (I’m not packing until this weekend), I’m diverting myself with work. Work, work, work, work. I’ve been clearing off my desk and performing work audits this week and I still have a stack of work left to do. It isn’t that I put it off. I just postpone paperwork in favor of more pressing things. So far the more pressing things have been completed so I can finally concentrate on the annoying things. *mutter*

And yet, I don’t mind. Because come Tuesday, I’ll be on my way to Kansas City leaving behind the serious-minded employee. Somewhere between New Orleans and Kansas City, I’ll finally break free of the prison I force myself into when I’m not at conferences. For nearly a full week, I can be Danica. Wild, fun, carefree and a little crazy. Which is sad because I’d love to do it all the time. One day I’ll be able to let Danica out all the time, to be the person I want instead of the one I have to show the world.

In the meantime, I can watch this video and sing, “I’m-a do the things that I wanna do, I ain’t got a thing to prove to you…” Yup, it’s Weezer’s “Pork and Beans”. I love the message behind this song. And then there’s the video. This is quite possibly one of the best videos ever. They cover everything and yet make it look cool instead of the embarrassment it was at the time it came out.

Do you remember watching any of these clips on youtube? As my Tudor England professor used to conclude every lecture…”Thoughts? Questions? Clarifications?”

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What A Hoot

It’s Monday. Meh.

From Friday afternoon to just before dawn today felt more like a week than a weekend. I could have sworn today was Tuesday. Honestly!

Why? Well, because I barely had an uncomplicated minute to myself. For the most part, I can’t complain. Friday afternoon, while checking out a building, I stumbled across something I’ll probably never see again. At first, because I was all alone and the building was shadowy and kind of scary and because I was expecting to see something like a snake, possum or raccoon, I was scared. I mean, wouldn’t you be if you saw something move out the corner of your eye and heard this ominous clicking sound? Especially when there was supposed to be nothing in this building?

Liar! Y’all all want to act as though you would have known, but y’all would’ve been just like me. Point at it, shout “holy shit! What is that?” to no one in particular and walk away as though it’s going to grow fangs and come at you like the killer rabbit in The Holy Grail. It was only later that I realized this is what I stumbled across:

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It’s a baby owl. One of two I found huddling next to a box in the warehouse. I don’t know if they fell from their perch, if their mother abandoned them when crews began to work on the building or what, but they didn’t look like owls when I first saw them. They looked like…monsters. Sure, laugh! I did. But do you see the size of those talons? I told my coworker if he didn’t leave them alone they were going to fly at his face and eat it.

So the excitement from the Great Owl Discovery faded and I had a baby shower to attend on Saturday. It was nice. My nephew’s girlfriend got a lot of presents and looked adorable with her baby bump. I wonder if she even realizes she’s naming my great-nephew the same name I chose for one of my heroes. Mason. Hopefully this Mason has an easier life of it than the fictional one. Which come to think of it is kind of funny. My sister named her new puppy Izzy. That’s the name of my heroine from Ain’t No Bull. I bet she forgot that.

By Saturday night though, I was convinced someone was trying to kill me. I spent most of the night casting up my accounts (which sounds a lot like math) which meant when Sunday rolled around, I felt like death warmed over. I slept all day, watched G.I. Joe and bitched at Duke for forgiving The Baroness. *mutters*

Anyway, this is going to be another hectic week with a Cabal of Hotness Chat at Coffee Time Romance tomorrow night and the cabal is in full force over at Naughty Author Chicks this week. Again. Yes we invaded them hard. OH!! And the second volume of the Fondled and Gobbled anthology, Going Back for Seconds comes out this Friday. There are some very stressed, freaked out funny women in the Cabal.

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Nuthin’ But A G-String

If you’re not sure you’re in the right place or not…I’m playing songs that were misunderstood by people. The lyrics, specifically. Last week I talked about a friend’s coworker who misunderstood “Dude (Looks Like A Lady)” to be “Do the regulator.” This week I’m pulling my own embarrassing misunderstood lyrics from the closet.

I was a fairly…innocent kid when it came to music. I didn’t listen to hard rock or rap in my teen years. Okay, there was that one summer my friends and I memorized the lyrics to 2 Live Crew’s Me So Horny, but honestly? I had no idea what horny meant at the time. Looking back, I’m horrified at myself. Meh.

High school wasn’t that much different. Not really. I listened to classic rock, some choice alternative rock and country. Yes, I said it. I listened to country music. A lot. So I was completely unprepared for the question shouted my way during a parade. If you remember, I’ve mentioned before that I was a band nerd. I played tuba for eight years starting in 8th grade into college. Along with the drummers, I was part of the rhythm section. We were the ones helped the rest of the band keep the beat. We were also the ones who were supposed to be able “funk it out”.

Let me take you back to about 1992, 1993. I was a junior in high school. I think. That was a long time ago. It was Mardi Gras Day. My high school was marching in the big parade. It was bright and sunny, and hot as hell in my uniform. Lugging a tuba for 8 miles and playing it isn’t as easy as it looks. We stopped on the corner of Main Street and I believe it was Columbus. When this happened, it meant the parade king and queen were doing their toast. If no one falls off their float (from drinking too much) it usually takes 15 minutes to get going again.

I’m tired as hell. We still had another quarter of the parade route to go and I just wanted to get out of my polyester nightmare. The crowd was rowdy. Most likely they’d been up at dawn and started drinking as soon as they got out of bed. I slung my tuba off my shoulder and rested it on my foot for a break, chatting with the others in the rhythm section. A couple other tuba players, few trombone players and a couple of trumpets.

I looked around and this lady in the crowd shouts, and I swear this is what she said, “Play Ain’t Nuthin’ But A G-String, baby!”

Amused because what the hell kind of song is that, I look at a friend of mine and repeat what I thought she said. Michael nearly fell on the street laughing. Of course he had to share this embarrassing little tidbit with the entire brass section which then moved to the woodwinds and the drummers. Hell, the chaperones were probably even laughing at me. It wasn’t until later that I realized there was a song out there called Nuthin’ But A G Thang and that’s what the lady in the crowd wanted us to play. Yeah, okay. I’ll get right on that with my white girl rhythm.

*shuts up*

Now that you’ve read the whole embarrassing story, here’s Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg with Nuthin’ But A G Thang. G Thang. Not G-Strang. Funny thing is, I really liked the song after I heard it. Now when it comes on, I jam out. *Shrug*

By the way, I’ll have a very special guest stopping by for an interview on Friday. I hope y’all will visit to learn more about him!

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Summer Blues

Besides the heat, the next worst thing about summer is the lack of shows to watch.

For those of you Duck Dynasty fans, last night was the season finale. And it was a good one. I was almost in tears watching Si do his turkey dance o’ love. But now what will I watch?

Granted, I don’t actually watch a lot. Most of the time I turn the television on for background noise as I read, but lately I’ve found myself getting more and more caught up in what’s on the tube. Sunday nights I have to drag myself to bed because I get sucked in by Holmes on Homes on HGTV and I don’t even like home improvement shows. Wednesday nights were my Duck Dynasty nights, Thursdays is reserved for Swamp People, and Friday nights are Ghost Adventures.

Then I realized there are new shows coming on. I just have to catch them. Storage Wars is starting its new season. Swamp People isn’t over yet. And then there’s the show shot in my parish, Cajun Justice that starts in a couple of weeks. Now, I’ll have to watch this show because I have to see how they portray the people here. Okay, and also to see if I know anyone they arrest. I know, I know. It’s going to piss me off. I know this ahead of time, so be prepared for some ranting posts over the summer. Just warning you.

So what are you sad to see end? What shows will you wait with bated breath for the return of?

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Graceless

I didn’t talk much about Pensacola, other than to say I had fun. I had to rest from the trip and then I had work to do for my upcoming books. It’s only now, when things have calmed a bit that I can relate something that made me crack up.

My mom came with me for this trip. She’d never been to Florida before (which is kind of astounding since she’s been pretty much everywhere else) and when she found out I was going to Pensacola, she was so there. She was packed two days before we left, had bought snacks and drinks for herself, a bathing suit, and a huge book. She also had this insane plan to sneak over to the hotel next door to use their hot tub. Luckily she didn’t. I really don’t know what I would’ve done if she’d been arrested. Maybe leave her there for a little while to ponder her criminal activities.

The entire drive over, she kept urging me to drive faster. “Faster! I want to get there now! I’m your mother and I’m telling you it’s okay to speed.” Yeah, I chuckled over that. But it was Saturday that made me crack up.

Before I get to that though, I have to explain something about my family. We’re the most ungraceful people you’ll ever meet. My mom has fallen down our stairs more times than I can count. She hasn’t hurt herself too much and she always laughs hysterically at herself, but yeah, she and stairs do not mix well. Then there’s my uncle who has the unfortunate habit of falling off of anything he’s standing on. Three story scaffolding to work on his house? Yeah, he knocked out the wrong support and fell. And that’s only a mild taste of our lack of grace.

So it should come as no surprise when on Saturday morning Mom told me she was going to walk on the beach, I had a moment of panic. I warned her, “Be careful. Don’t fall or hurt yourself in any way, okay?” Of course she gave me a look I’m sure I’ve given her several times in the last thirty some odd years and promised to be careful. She went off, happy to be seeing blue water and white sand.

Hours later, after workshops and lunch, I went up to the room and that’s when I learned she didn’t follow my directions at all. Well, okay, it wasn’t that bad. It seems she tiptoed her way down to the water to put her feet in. A wave met her advance and almost knocked her off her feet. She swears one leg went one way and the other went another way. She almost fell, but managed to catch herself. And naturally, a man passing by saw it happen and laughed hysterically.

She didn’t end up in the water, but my writer’s mind keeps thinking how funny it would’ve been. I can picture it in my mind and it makes me laugh. Because when Mom falls, she’s very loud. She lets out this scream that makes you think something horrible has happened, but it’s really her laughing at herself.

Ah well. Mom made it through the rest of the weekend with no further mishaps. I’m sure Pensacola breathed a sigh of relief when we left the city limits, but be forewarned, Florida. We’ll be back.

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The Froggies Are Coming

What a dismal morning! I woke up only to see a dense fog all around. It makes driving so difficult, not to mention the humidity is hell on my hair.

But fog reminds me of my brother when he was young. He used to say the most hysterical things and we never fail to remind him of them. For instance, it wasn’t “fog”. For some reason, instead of saying it was foggy, he’d say “the froggies are coming!” Now, I’m not sure if he thought they were actual frogs, but it used to crack us up.

Of course, kids say the darnedest things. We all have stories about kids saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, or completely misunderstanding some things. It’s natural since they’re learning. If you throw in a slight speech impediment, sometimes the things they say will leave you struggling to hold back your laughter.

For instance, my cousin’s daughter had a problem with her “st” sounds. Now, I know it’s wrong to laugh, but that “st” sound only opened the door to mass hysteria in our family. I have mentioned before how we have no problem laughing at each other, but in this case, our little one struck us all dumb.

Like the day she caught a plastic sword at a Mardi Gras parade. She must’ve been three or four at the time. She brandished her awesome weapon and declared, “I am the king and this is my *ick!” (insert a d in that asterisk and you’ve got exactly what she said). We stared at her in appalled horror for all of three or for seconds before we started choking on our laughter. OMG. Even now, remembering how proud she was of her “stick” To make matters worse, every time she had any object that was…phallic in shape, whether it was a sword, or a rolled up newspaper, it immediately became her “stick”. Hilarity ensued.

Then there was the time her friend came over to play. Our little one’s grandmother had given her this gaudy plastic serving spoon to play with. The friend looked in awe at the blue plastic with silver paint and said, “You must be rich!” Little one shook her head and said very plainly, “No, we’re poor like you.”

Oh man…My stomach hurts from holding back the laughter. Of course there are a ton of stories I could share, but it would take a few blog posts to get them all in. Maybe I should start a “Kids Say the Darnedest Things” thread and see where it goes. It’s funny how a foggy day made me think about this, but there you have it. That’s how my brain works.

So my question to you is, what have your kids, or relatives’ kids said that left you in hysterical horror? You can tell me. I won’t judge!

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Confession Time

As you all know, I adore my dog, Mia. She’s a miniature Schnauzer and my constant companion. If she had things her way I’d stay home all the time and let her sit/sleep in my lap. That’s her idea of heaven. Poor puppy.

I admit I baby her. I can’t help myself. She’s just so cute and needy, I want to protect her from everything. I give her treats, I have her groomed and that’s where the confession comes into play.

She’s a nervous rider. She whines and cries in the car and tries to climb in my lap. The first time I brought her to the groomer, it was her first time away from me ever. I dropped her off and went about my business trying not to think of the horror stories I’ve heard of dog groomers.

That afternoon they called to let me know she was ready. I was filled to bursting with happiness to get my baby girl back again. I raced to the groomer and walked in the door. A mini-Schnauzer was on the counter and the minute I walked in the door, she went berserk with joy. She looked so good! Her fur was trimmed, her beard and mustache looked brighter and she was thrilled to see me. I picked her up and brought her home. She was so well-behaved in the car, so completely happy to be going home and I realized this grooming thing couldn’t be too bad.

But when I got home and she jumped out of the car she took one look at my old cat (whom she’d grown up with) and tore after her like a demon. About that time, my mom came to the door and shouted the words no pet owner wants to hear:

You brought the wrong dog home!

What??? That was impossible! This was my Mia! She’d been so happy to see me she’d almost jumped in my arms, but then I saw the way she and the cat were going at it and realized I had indeed brought the wrong dog home. My cousin, she of the warped sense of humor I’ll tell you about another time, was there and offered to go back to the groomer with me. I was so embarrassed to have brought the wrong dog home, I made my cousin go in with the imposter and bring my Mia out.

To this day, whenever I say how much I love my dog, my family reminds me (and Mia) of how I brought the wrong dog home. I have to soothe my baby girl and tell her it was only an accident. That’s when I give her another treat because I don’t want her feelings hurt.

And of course, every time I pick her up from the groomer I study her carefully. Is her little birthmark on her back? Does she have curved canines? Is she whining and crying in the car? Does she ignore the cat in favor of a treat? If she does all of that, I know it’s my Mia and not another imposter.

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