Showing posts with label Fiona. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fiona. Show all posts

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Happy Fourth of July & The Name Game!

Happy Fourth of July everybody! And for those of you non-Americans, well, it’s still the fourth of July, even if you aren’t setting off fireworks, grilling things and keeping bugs out of your potato salad, right? Anyhoo, because it is the Fourth of July, it is time to play Frankie Furter’s Name Game. Which basically (I think) means telling how you got your name.



So, me first. Because I’m the older sister and everything.

**The very first part of this story is kind of sad, so you can skip to the next paragraph if you don’t want to read sad things.** Mom and Dad had a standard poodle named Ben (actually, he was The Majestic Ben Gurion, from the Majestic line of poodles, and was this super-handsome show quality dog). Because he was Super Handsome (and had such great bloodlines), he was never tutored, ah, neutered, and as he gold older (9), Mom and Dad decided to breed him with a local Golden Retriever girl, so when Ben finally crossed the bridge they would have his direct descendant, and a goldendoodle, to boot. They also knew that TaiChi was not a Spring Chicken, and thought a puppy would be a good thing. Unfortunately, the girlfriend they had picked for Ben was sickie-poo when they were supposed to have their big date, and shortly thereafter (and here’s the sad part), Ben was diagnosed with bladder cancer, and he was not able to have kids. When Ben it became clear that Ben was not going to be a father in his own right, Mom started looking for Goldendoodles.

Mom insisted on a female because she was sick of the boys “marking their territory” in the living room. *ahem* She looked in the local papers and she found me! A family west of Salt Lake City had a female standard poodle and a male red Golden Retriever than they had bred. Mom talked with the lady, and they only had 2 girls left, but Mom and Dad could come visit. After checking out my biological parents’ medical histories and genetic tests and blah, blah, blah, blah, Mom and Dad saw a whole pile of squirming little things, and Picked Me!!! I wasn’t quite ‘done’ when they picked me out (I was only 7 weeks old), and so after saying they would be back, they got all prepared for a new puppy.

Here's my Mom:
And my Very Handsome Dad:

Keep in mind that Abby and I share the exact same biological parents - so my Mom and Dad are her Mom and Dad, too.

And here I am as a wee bitty youngster:

You can't quite see my redness here because the picture is a bit overexposed. Here I am in all my red glory:


And here I am with TaiChi, and my big brother Ben, both of whom Taught me Much About the World:

Heehee. I was so little. And the older dogs didn't know what to make of me!

Because I was Very Red as a youngster, Mom wanted me to have some sort of Irish name. Around the same time, Mom and Dad became very enamored with a teevee show called Burn Notice. In the show, one of the main characters is a woman named Fiona Glenanne, who, in the show, is a former IRA member and likes to blow up things.


Mom thought the name was perfect, and Dad totally agreed. So I was named after a teevee character. Even though I don’t generally blow things up. Heehee.

And in case you've forgotten what I look like when I'm not chomping on my sister, here I am!


Now, on to Abby. And proof that Mom and Dad probably watch too much teevee. Mom and Dad thought I was Such A Wonderful Doggie (no, really, they did) and they knew that TaiChi was becoming extremely ancient and venerable, and thought that I could use a “younger companion” (whatever that means) and on a whim, Mom and Dad emailed the family who own my biological parents, and it turns out that they had decided to have One More Litter of puppies. So Mom immediately said “Oooh, oooh, oooh! We Want One!!!” and because they were so enthusiastic, Mom and Dad got first choice.

And they picked this:


Seriously. They picked this thing:

In all fairness, Mom and Dad both said that it is pretty tough to identify personality traits at 5 week old. Not really being able to tell much about her, Mom and Dad felt that they should just give her a name (so her ‘first family’ could start using it, so Abby would get to know her name). Mom and Dad are also big fans of the teevee show NCIS and really like the character Abby Scuito, the Goth self-proclaimed “Energizer bunny of forensics”.


Even though they didn’t know how Abby was going to turn out, they liked the name, and she became Abby. And while my sister isn’t much of a Goth (other than her lighter hair and dark eyeliner), she is most definitely an Abby. For the record, Abby is often known as ‘Scrabby’ or ‘Abby Scrabbington’ as well as ‘The Mutant Puppy’ and ‘The Little Monster’.

Here she is, at almost 7 months. Quite a bit different from the little squirt Mom and Dad picked out, huh? And note that dark eyeliner she uses!

And no matter how big she gets (there is some debate as to whether she’ll be bigger than me) she will always be my little sister, and thus ‘Little’. So there. Neener, neener. And I’ll have the psychological advantage For Ever!!!

*ahem*

So, to sum it up, Mom and Dad named us both for strong female characters, and I think we are both living up to our names quite nicely!

And for the record, I really do love my little sister - I'm super lucky to have a fun sister - thanks, Mom and Dad!!!!


So, on that note, I’m off to make sure that Mom has all sorts of yummy foodables prepared for today. Dog bless America!

*kissey face*
-Fiona and Abby (the Mutant Puppy)

Sunday, March 7, 2010

It's MY bloggie and I'm going to vent. So there.

If I hear “cute puppy” this or “smart puppy” that or “what a good puppy” One More Time, I think I’m going to hurl. Seriously. The Little Monster goes to PetCo for her Puppy Class and Mom comes back gushing about what a wonderful puppy the beast Abby is, and how everyone at the store thinks she’s So Cute. Oh please. They only see a hotdog-eating, eager-to-please little ball of fluff. They don’t see the monster that she becomes at home.

Good grief. You can see her tonsils.

That's my ear!!!

Even Mom and Dad buy into her shtick. I mean, they get so excited when she poops outside. Woo-hoo. That’s definitely Nobel prize-worthy. *sheesh*

And yesterday? Yesterday totally takes the cake. Mom takes The Monster to puppy class (which is still a class of one – probably because no one else wants to contaminate their dog by being around the Spawn of Satan), and the store is hosting a pet photo thing. So Mom gets some pictures of Abby looking (and I quote) “angelic”. Angelic?!? I think Mom must be stopping by the pub next door or something while Abby is sucking up to the dog trainer, because “angelic”? Not the Abby that I know. I take that back. She can work it when she wants to. I mean, here is the face that she puts on when she's suckering people into buying her Cute Puppy Act.

*gag*

Note from Mom: PetCo was doing one of those fund-raising things, and well, I couldn't help myself. And actually the first 6 pictures we got were a disaster as Abby couldn’t sit still to save her life. But we took a few more after class, after we had been practicing ‘sit’ and ‘down’ for quite a while, and yep. She’s cute. Painfully cute. We are getting hard copies of the pictures (alas, we couldn’t get digital copies), so when they arrive, I’ll figure out how to post them. But OMD. Abby was really working the Cute Puppy thing. Unfortunately, the photographer won’t be there tomorrow when Fi has class, so we’ll have to wait to get her portrait done…

*sigh*

But, at least I can still bitey-face her.

And while she thinks she can do snow-zoomies...

Here short little leggies means that she pretty much sticks to the places where the snow has melted.

While I can enjoy the snow in all its wonderfulness! Because I am all long-leggity-like.

*neener neener*

*kissey face* (unless you are Abby, in which case it is bitey-face all the way)
-Fiona

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Because it really is ALL ABOUT FIONA

Here's a video I slapped together (okay, it took me forever, for a variety of reasons, not limited to the fact that I'm not video-savvy, I get frustrated easily, and I really expected to only spend about 30 minutes on this project - which, of course, added to the frustration...) of Fiona out chasing the community squeaky ball.

The cool thing is that she's not on a leash (she's got a short training line on) for any of this. And yep, our little girl is becoming a dog. Neither her poodle mother nor her golden retriever father were particularly big, but I think we've got Dogzilla on our hands. Her. Feet. Just. Don't. Stop. Growing!