Monday, March 15, 2010

Chipughua

An adult chug from the internet


Dakota sleeping. Hopefully she doesn't outgrow this bed



Dakota all wrapped up. She wants to be carried everywhere


Who is this little stranger that Naomi brought to the house yesterday when she was supposed to be studying? She is 5.5 months pregnant, living in poverty, struggling in school-does she need to be taking care of a 4 month puppy too?


Dontae picked Dakota up as a surprise from some rescue operation. She presumably is a 4 month old chihuahua and allegedly will never grow any bigger. Now it's true that toy breeds don't grow quite as impressively as lets say, Sunny the German Shepherd Dog. But even Spud, the pug, purchased as a 4 month old tripled in size and technically he is a toy breed. Compared to Mz. Dakota, he is mammoth. The only hint that maybe she won't grow is that she has the tiniest feet I ever saw on a dog. But she seems as big now as an adult. Also her fur color: I never seen this color on a chihuahua before suggesting that perhaps she is far from being a purebreed. It wasn't until this morning when I uploaded these pictures that I realized where I have seen this fawn agouti coat with black ears and snout with the black ridge running down the spine. Duh!!!! She's part pug!!!It also explains her lack of nervousness. When Spud got in her face, she growled, which he can't hear, and then she snapped at him. After that, she showed no fear of him. I thought for a while that her boldness may be due to being part terrier of some sort..Jack Russell? But they never have fur such as hers. Being part pug explains alot. I have since learned the official word for her ilk is Chug.



Yesterday was hectic trying to prepare her for the exam and then later helping her with some nutrition assignment. She of course brought all her laundry as she had no time to do it. She had a baby shower to go to. She has managed to find many unmarried pregnant girls her age and now socializes with these new friends. But no money or time for a present..could Steve go fetch one? Didn't have time to get money to buy gas...on and on. When do I stop enabling..when will she grow up..it's exhausting and sad.


And last night was our big family dinner so let's see.. that's cooking for nine? To be fair, Daniel doesn't eat anything of mine and Oliver, not much. I put food preparation off to the last minute then I couldn't enjoy my guests-not really guests but family. Maybe I was crabby because I had no time to run.


In the middle of the night, to stave off racing, negative thoughts I read. My latest: The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver. Not as good as Poisonwood Bible but still interesting. In between the plot lines, it gives a history of Mexico. When Cortes first reached its shores, he asked the natives what they called their land. They answered "Yucatan" What Yucatan means in Mayan is 'we don't understand what you're saying'.


Another Mayan word I learned yesterday from a completely different source is 'chia' from the plant of the same name sold with a terracotta animal that you water and sprinkle the seeds on it.

"Chia' in Mayan allegedly means 'strength'. The natives are presumably very good distance runners. They swallow a handful of these seeds and they are good to go for another 50 miles. Some consider these seeds 'superfood' and that it should be part of the cancer survivor's arsenal. The source of all this in the last paragraph is from Jennifer, a Fox News reporter who has been a spokeswoman for TNBC lately. This fall, she found she had a 9 cm breast (TN) tumor, the biggest I've heard of. Chemotherapy has shrunk it to 1.5 cm. Whether its remains contain living tumor cells will be answered next month when it is removed. She supplements her heavyduty chemo with nutrition using superfoods only. She's been on TV several times and of course has a blog. (http://jengriffinblog.blogspot.com/)


And I assumed 'chia' was a mispronounced Italian word. Josh had this friend who seemed to be at our house every morning. Despite my kids' requests not to speak to their friends, I try to extract information from them anyway. I had learned that this boy had an Italian mom. Really, what was her name? Chiapetta. I assumed at the time, he made up the name just to shut me up. I had laughed at his reply as he had been smiling. But this woman wrote me out a check later and it actually was her name.

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