What You Don’t Need to Get Me for Christmas

          Online shopping has changed the world. And whether you shop online or in brick-and-mortar stores, you’re probably doing more of it this time of year as we look for Christmas and Hannukah presents to give those we love.

And that means catalogs in your mailbox, ads on your screens, and marketing of all kinds urging you to buy, buy, buy.

But some gifts deserve a bye-bye. Here are several gifts you don’t need to give me for Christmas:

First, a Dog DNA test which costs $60-$130.  I cannot fathom feeling blessed by knowing my chihuahua-terrier mix is officially part chihuahua and part terrier.  People who care about those things usually have purebred dogs with pedigree papers.  The rest of us have mutts and the last thing we need to know is that they’re part Australian Shepherd and should be a whole lot smarter than they’re letting on.

And speaking of dogs, I also don’t need a Smart Dog Collar. First of all, that sounds like it’s for smart dogs and that lets Mickey out of the running entirely. But even if you realize this is a collar with GPS tracking, don’t you know where your dog is, already? Are people really leaving the doors open and giving their dogs run of the entire world?

I also don’t need unicorns made of particle board that you can burn in your fireplace, a blanket that looks like a tortilla so you can be a burrito, a gnome disguise for my blender, a skull butter dish, a birdhouse that looks like a football helmet, a shark costume for my cat, hot sauce guaranteed to induce a heart attack, or a sofa cover that looks like a giant Lego.

I know, I know, some of these gifts just cry to be purchased, but this year you can save untold sums of money by not getting me any of the above. Instead—and this will stay nicely inside anyone’s budget—you can buy a boatload of my new books (A Little Christmas Prayer) on Amazon for only $3.49 each! This heartwarming Christmas story about gratitude is perfect for kids or adults of any faith. Aren’t you glad you subscribe to this blog? Now your shopping is done!

I Married a Leprechaun!

          Well, the results are in for St. Bob’s DNA and he’s about 1/3 Irish!  Granted, they group Irish, Scottish, and Welsh together, so it’s a mix, but still.  This means I should get free Lucky Charms cereal for life I do believe.

          I am also now able to legitimately celebrate St. Paddy’s Day, make green eggs and ham, find four-leaf clovers, and expect to find a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow.  By marriage, of course.

          A few years ago Bob took our daughter, Nicole, to England and Scotland on a connect-the-dots trip of castles where his various ancestors have been born, ending with Hylton Castle, and they posed for this photo, unaware just how Scottish and Irish they really are.  Well, except for Bob’s obvious luck of the Irish in marrying me.

          He’s also almost 1/3 Scandinavian, which probably accounts for his height and coloring.  Oh, and his Viking daring-do. 

And the rest is “Western European.”  So, kind of a vanilla result with no shocking surprises or intriguing mysteries. But it was interesting that Ancestry.com also included a map of the U.S. where hundreds of near genetic matches are, and they’re all grouped in Mississippi and Louisiana. All this without knowing that Bob grew up in Lake Charles, Louisiana.  With crawfish climbing up through his front lawn. 

But that’s another story.

Speaking of stories, did you know I have 25 published books you could be enjoying?  All kinds—literary fiction, action adventure, romance, comedy, chick-lit.  Check ‘em out here!

Oh, That Surprising Ancestry!

           Last month, for Father’s Day, the kids gave St. Bob one of those DNA testing kits that reveals you are actually your wife's third cousin. Okay, maybe not.  But it tells you the nationalities that make up your ancestry. 

          He immediately sent it in, and now we are waiting for the results.  I, of course, cannot resist speculating and if “pirate” or “clown” were actual nationalities I can see a big slice of that pie chart bearing swords and red noses.

          We’ve traced his genealogy (back to Adam on several lines, actually), and it’s mostly from the British Isles.  But it dips in and out of Scandinavia, too.   His family—many of whom came to the U.S. in the 16oos before it even was the U.S., also harbors a rumor that someone was married to a Cherokee woman, so we’re hoping for some Native American percentage, as well.

          Of course I cannot resist making a game of this, and I invited our kids to join the guessing game.  When the results finally arrive I plan to gather everyone in a big conference call, the way people in our church do when someone opens their mission call.

          Meanwhile, they are to send in their guesses. Second son Brandon’s is “1/3 English, 1/6 Scottish, 1/3 Scandinavian, 1/6 French (since Bob is from Louisiana), and the rest is probably extra  terrestrial.”

          I texted right back, “Yes!  I’ll bet you anything he’s an alien from outer space!  I may change my guess to at least half that.”

          Brandon said, “Ha ha, exactly.  If the results get delivered by men in black, you’ll know you were right.”

          So stay tuned.  Meanwhile, visit my website and watch some of my YouTube Mom videos or buy my books.  It’s summertime and you need a break!

DNA, Shmee N A

          Probably the hottest trend right now is tracing your DNA.  I have friends who are over the moon excited to find out that they’re part Cherokee or Russian or Chinese, when they thought were 100 % Irish through and through.  And it is exciting.

          So I thought I’d see if you can do this with dogs.  Because that’s how my mind works.  Of course, there’s no use doing it with AKA-registered show dogs; their backgrounds are already documented on paper. It would only be fascinating to do it with mutts you’ve rescued.

          And, as a long-time mutt rescuer, I have often wondered what accounts for not only the odd appearances of my pets, but their odd behavior. 

Because this is just a blog and not a book, we shall deal exclusively with my current dog, Mickey. I believe that if I traced her bloodline, it would lead directly to a muskrat, as she will burrow under anything she can.  Somehow, in a miracle of science, a muskrat and a dog must have bred centuries ago.

And as long as we're mixing species, her eating habits would indicate that she may also be a small percentage frog, chicken, owl, or snake, because she gulps her food down whole, as do those same creatures.
It’s also possible that her line includes a fictional, animated mouse, since there is a Mickey Mouse silhouette on her back-- nature’s way of shouting truth, right?

As for actual dogs in her line, let’s start with her breed.  The shelter said she was a Taco Terrier, a designer dog created by breeding a Chihuahua with a Miniature Fox Terrier.

          Now, Taco Terrier is a cute, alliterative name, but it is also the PERFECT RECIPE for a dog that cannot be housebroken.  If you look up a list of dogs tough to potty train, Chihuahuas will lead the list, followed by other toy breeds.  “Miniature” is a clue, and I believe actually refers to their bladders.

          In addition, terriers are known for being stubborn, independent, feisty, and not wanting to be team players with humans.  So, if you had the diabolical plan to create the perfect storm of an untrainable dog who piddles all over the house, you would breed a Chihuahua with a miniature terrier, hence Taco Terriers.

          Of course, I didn’t know this when we simply chose her based upon adorableness.  

          I didn’t even look at the paperwork from the person who surrendered her until years later, when I noticed that in the box labeled “Housebroken?” they had written, “Somewhat.”

          Folks, you cannot be somewhat housebroken. It’s like being somewhat pregnant.  Either you are or you are not.

          And so the housebreaking ordeal of the century began, and, despite her DNA, at long last we have a dog we can trust.  Somewhat.

          If you can take your eyes off your dog, settle down with a good book, or some short YouTube mom videos.  You can find them all here.