Gatsby’s happy place

A fresh load of laundry straight out of the dryer might be Gatsby’s favorite thing in the whole entire world.

That, or stealing napkins from people’s laps at the dinner table.

And actually, I can kind of see the appeal. (Of the laundry – not the napkin stealing.)

It’s warm, soft, smells good. If I could fit in that basket, I’d probably be right there with him.

You know you’re a yuppie when…

You spent Friday night sitting on your Crate & Barrel couch with your husband on the near north side of Chicago in yoga pants drinking a glass of red wine while watching Portlandia and snuggling with your tiny lap dog who is wearing a gingham bow tie.

Other yuppie-ish activities planned for this weekend include attending a baby shower, meeting friends for brunch and walking our tiny dog in the park.

How are you spending your weekend? 🙂

Brace yourself

The Cutest Dog in the World just… got… CUTER!

I’ve been wanting to get my handsome little man a bow tie for a long time now. My sister gave me this one for my birthday (tomorrow marks 30 years of me being alive), and it’s pretty much the best thing ever.

Gatsby absolutely hates it but it’s not his birthday, now is it?


We took Gatsby for his yearly vet appointment yesterday. Turns out he’s a very healthy little guy with the exception of one thing: he’s fat.

Apparently the little porker has packed on an entire pound since this time last year. I’ve probably gained that much in the past day alone (I ate an offensive amount of spaghetti for dinner last night), but one pound is actually a lot when it counts for 1/6 of your body weight.

Clearly, Gatsby has really let himself go. Time to break out the doggy treadmill.

I plan on sitting him down tonight, giving him a pep talk and showing him this Super Bowl commercial for inspiration:

Does anyone else think that all the best Super Bowl commercials this year involved dogs? (Like this one!)

Sweater 1, Gatsby 0

Last night, we tried to take Gatsby for a walk after work, as is our daily ritual.

The temperature had dipped below 40 degrees, and Gatsby hadn’t been in weather that cold since last winter. So naturally, as good pet-owners, we forced him into put him in his sweater.

Gatsby hates his sweater. With the burning passion of a thousand suns. No, a million suns.

Getting the thing on him in the first place is no easy task. It requires catching him (usually by gently pulling him out from under a table by one or two legs, whatever is within reach), shoving (again, gently) his head through the hole and then somehow wrangling his paws (which at this point are writing in protest) through the “sleeves.”

Then he completely freezes up (see the first photo).

Yesterday, we succeeded in unfreezing him and actually got him out the door, which was an accomplishment in and of itself. But then after he did his business and walked approximately half a block, he was done. He sat his little butt on the cold concrete sidewalk (really, Gatsby? That was better than walking?) and refused to move.

Walk over.

He is a handsome little devil though, isn’t he?

Happy weekend

Today is Friday AND I have the day off!

So I’m lying on the couch with some pumpkin coffee and catching up on Rachel Zoe.

My favorite quote from the season finale episode:

“I gag for Rachel’s salami.” – Joey

In which, to “gag” is a good thing.

Let me use it in another context for you.

I gag for this little ball of cuteness on the couch next to me.

Seriously. I. die.

Ooh! Speaking of gagging (and not in the good way), last night I went to an industry Halloween party at Cutters and saw this guy:

You know, just lying around ON A BED OF NAILS. He actually had horrible nail marks all over his back.

Halloween is so weird.

Love it.