Spook-tacular Weekend

Happy Early Halloween from Count Tuckula


The baddest vampire since Edward Cullen

Wordless Wednesday #5 Revealed

This picture was taken last weekend at our friends, The Maher's, house in Dewey Beach, Delaware. The Maher's dog, Bailey, is going to be a lobster for Halloween and we decided to try the costume on Little Tuck. He went completely still once we got it on him and looked humiliated.

Doesn't it look like he's saying "Seriously, Mom and Dad? Are you for real?"

Halloween supplies are starting to top up all over the place. Seen any great doggy costumes? What should Tucker be for Halloween?

We know their names now...

Ross and I have been living in our current place for over a year now. I've pretty much loved our actual apartment since we took the tour-the black granite counter tops, the light wood floors, and the gorgeous views. While the management has changed for the worst in the last few months, I love the fact that our building allows dogs, which allowed for us to allow Tucker to become part of our family. We live in a great neighborhood with tons of shops, restaurants, and bars. We're within walking distance to Georgetown and have easy access to the Metro, which is pretty essential to getting around DC.

But what defines this as home for me was exemplified last night when Ross and I spent two hours outside in our courtyard with a bottle of wine and some of our neighbors letting the dogs play. Conversations ranged from credit cards to vacations, jobs to photography skills. While we may have initially bonded over simply having dogs (and we might not have exactly known their names to begin with), my neighbors are by far some of the nicest and most interesting people I've ever met. With our dog park going to shambles and management being less than responsive, someone created a Facebook group and we've "friended and followed" each other to stay connected.

Our neighbors have become more than just people that we acknowledge in the elevator; they're the people that we truly enjoy spending time with and consider friends.

The funny things about our neighbors is that we don't know their names

My husband and I have lived in our current apartment for a year now. For the first six months, we didn’t know a single person. The guy across the hall from us would smile occasionally if he saw us on his way out to walk his dog, but otherwise, the only person that really talked to us was the conceige, and frankly, that’s his job.

Then, Ross (that’s the husband) and I decided to adopt Tucker, a 10 week yorkie-bichon mix (or Yorkchon). Suddenly, we were shuffling in and out of our third floor apartment on an hourly basis to the dog park adjacent to our building. Truth be told, this is where all of our neighbors were the first 6 months. While Ross and I were playing Wii and watching Netflix, and going out, our neighbors were drinking beers in the park, throwing balls to their dogs, and trying to keep their mutts from clawing the rest of the pups.

Because Tucker is the cutest, and smartest dog in the whole world, he made friends very early. Several of the dogs have become his very best pals. As Tuck grew, we’d let him off of his leash to be chewed on and chased so that he’d sleep through the night. While our dog was running amuck with the others, we’d talk to the other owners about what they did, where they worked, and how long they had been puppy parents.

But, we didn’t really know anyone’s name. In fact, a typical conversation between Ross and I would go like this:

Me: Did Tuck play with anyone?
Ross: Yeah, Eli and Bailey.
Me: Sweet.
Ross: ...Yeah, and I was talking to Eli’s dad and he’s a huge Caps fan
Me: Eli’s mom was out there earlier and she said they’re moving next month.
Ross: Man, Tuck is going to miss Eli.
Me: His parents are so nice!

So, now it’s awkward because we know every dog, but don’t know any of the owner’s names. We joke that you should have to wear a nametag for your first few weeks in the park (something like “Hi, my name is Allison, and Tucker is my dog, Yes, I know he’s adorable) to avoid the awkwardness that comes with asking someone their name when you know what they do, where they were born, and that they’re dog prefers to go to the bathroom in the left corner of the dog park.