Monday, February 22, 2010

Poor Ace

I just dropped Ace off to get neutered.
This was the look he gave me as I walked away. That "how can you do this to me?" look. I'm pretty sure he knows what's about to happen.
He sat at my feet while I made the appointment. Staring at me with those all knowing eyes and whining a little. I told the vet receptionist to hold on a second "what?..." I said to Ace "I gotta do it" I'm pretty sure the receptionist thought I was crazy.
This morning he seemed to have forgotten that today is the day. He happily jumped in the car and rode in his usual nose-to-the-windshield style. His way of beating me to where ever we are going.
When we pulled into the vet's office parking lot he suddenly seemed to remember. He didn't want to get out of the car and I had to drag him into the building. He usually likes going to the vet. He gets lots of cookies and attention.
Today he growled at the receptionist. She seemed surprised and said "hey! I didn't do anything!" I wanted to tell her that 'he knows' but she is probably the same girl I talked to before and I'm pretty sure she still thinks I'm crazy.
Ace then proceeded to growl at everyone who worked there, but not at any of the other patients or owners in the lobby.
See. He knows.
I left him with his favorite teddy bear and Kong chew toy. I was thinking about going out and buying him a new Frisbee.
I'm a little worried that he may never forgive me.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

the unwanted theater experience

I finally broke down and went to see Avatar last weekend with my friend Gigi.
We decided to splurge and go to the IMAX.

I figured by now there wouldn't be too many people in the theater.
Boy, was I wrong!

Gigi and I got there early and listened to one of the guys who worked at the theater talk about the best place to sit in order to get the "best IMAX experience".

We picked our seats and all was well.
Then the theater started to fill....and fill....and fill.

Just as the theater lights were dimming a man and his wife scooted in front of us sat down next to me.

And I immediately noticed a horrible smell.

It was a combination of strong cigarette smoke and really horrible body odor. I thought to myself, "It will be okay. I can take it". That thought lasted about 30 seconds before I realized I couldn't do it.

So I scanned the theater to look for a new seat. It was packed. There were no seats anywhere.

I decided to try and put on some of my Bath and Body Works lotion to try and alleviate the stench. I nonchalantly applied it under my nose and around my mouth. It didn't helped much.

Then he started to cough a smokers cough of a magnitude that affirmed his habit. I'd estimate about 3 1/2 packs a day hacking.

Yeah. all with out covering his mouth.

Luckily, he only did this a few times but then there was the constant wheezing that accompanied each breath. By the time the previews were over, I had diagnosed him with emphysema.

I was praying under my breath that the movie would be really loud, otherwise I would never get my ADD mind to focus with all these other sensory distractions going on.

I'm pretty sure I sound intolerant, I don't mean to be.
Maybe it because of my ADD mind and having a hard time with distractions but this explains why I don't go to movies very often. I hate paying for the "theater experience" ($14/ticket) and getting more "theater experience" than I want.

You know,
~cell phones ringing, or the light of cell phones flashing while people text (which btw, according to some teens I've talked to recently, is perfectly acceptable to do in theaters because "it's not ringing!")
~people talking through the whole movie
~babies crying (never could figure out why people do that-bring a baby to a movie)
~people kicking you in the head when they rest their feet on your seat
~and now something I had never thought of before or experienced--hacking smelly wheezy people sitting right next to me coughing on me. YUCK!

I did finally get absorbed enough in the movie to forget the guy next to me but it took awhile. I'm going to say that it was worth it this time.
There are some movies you just have to see on the big screen.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The pewter cup

Today I'm going to participate in something new. Something I've never tried before.

Willow over at Life at Willow Manor has started a new blog called Magpie Tales. She is helping to inspire people to write short stories and poems. She will be providing a picture as a prompt each week.

I've have never attempted to write a short story before and I will warn you, this story that I wrote is not like anything else on this blog.
I just looked at the picture and wrote and this is what came out. It's a little disturbing and different (maybe I'm reading too much Otin?). I almost didn't post it but I did promise myself to go through with this assignment (and not throw away what I write- which is what I normally do).'s is this weeks picture and my attempt at a short story.

London 1895....Hettie

So 'ere we stand. All lined up in the main 'all. Lord Willard walks down the row of us servants, lookin' into each of our faces. Tryin' to see if there's deceit in our eyes and all the while Lady Willard stands there wringing her hands in worry.

I don't see the big fuss. It was a strange piece of silver that went missing. Never used. Didn't match all the other fine pieces in the mansion. Plain compared to the rest, seemed a bit older too.

Of course, we all know who took it. Maggie's responsible for polishing the silver every Friday. I, meself has seen 'er holding that same piece wit a trance like look on her face. But to take it? Everyone knows a job is 'ard to come by without a letter. She'll never find work again and all over a silver cup?

Lord Willard finishes with his questions and stares and dismisses us to our work. "Maggie, Lady Willard and I would like to speak to you privately in the study" he says when we all break from our line.

Maggie follows the Lord and Lady with the same look on 'er face that she's had for weeks now. We share a room upstairs, me and Maggie do. A couple weeks ago I find 'er sittin' on her bed staring at nothin'. And this is the way I find 'er lots of times since then.

I 'ead up to me room for a clean handkerchief right quick before I head to me duties. And there I find Chadwick, the Lord's butler, on the floor near Maggie's bed. Maggie's bag is already packed. She must know she's getting the sack. Chadwick has gone through 'er things and is now searching for a hiding place, perhaps a loose floor board.

Chadwick didn't expect me but he's not applogizin'. "Have you seen it?" he asks without getting up. "Only time I seen it is when she's holding it and polishin' it" I answer. "Well, she shouldn't be polishin' it. It's not silver, it's pewter and it's never been stored with the other silver. It was kept locked up in the Lord's secret safe. I don't know how she even knew of it's existence let alone stole it."

Just then we 'ear footsteps. Maggie is standing in the doorway. She has that crazy look on 'er face. The silver cup is in 'er one 'and and a big knife in the other. She is covered with blood. I back up into the corner and Chadwick is just startin' to get up when Maggie makes a growling like sound and starts attackin' Chadwick. I see me chance and run from the room.

That's when I see the smoke rising up the servants stairway.

I don't know how or why, but I'm the only one who makes it out alive.

New York 1995....Bill

"Tell me again Margret, how did you hear about this?" I ask my wife as we drive out of the city to an old estate auction. She has been acting strange lately. This auction is all she talks about, but in everything else she seems distracted.

"I stumbled on it online" is all she says.

"But you've never been interested in this kinda stuff before. Why the sudden interest in estate auctions?" All she gives me is a shoulder shrug. I can't figure her out lately. In the 25 years we've been married she has always been s focused, driven. As a modern art dealer in the city, she has decorated our home to match her tastes in her work. Antiques all of the sudden? And so absent-minded and day-dreamy?

She suddenly jumps to life "Oh, there it is! There's the place. Turn at the next street!" We pull into a side yard of an old farm house where cars are parked. Margret is out of her seat and opening her door before I can put the car in park.

She doesn't wait for me but heads straight into the barn where long tables have been set up with items stacked on them. I almost have to jog to catch up to Margret as she walks purposefully to the back corner of the barn. I notice that she doesn't even look at any of the items. She stops in front of a card board box filled with what looks like junk.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask her breathlessly when I reach her side. Margret doesn't seem to hear me. She is standing there staring into the box. "Margret?" She doesn't respond but instead slowly reaches into the box and pulls out a blackened cup by it's handle. She is holding it, staring at it when I say her name again.

She takes the cup and puts it in her purse. "What are you doing?" I struggle to contain my shock to a hissing whisper while looking around to see if anyone has noticed her theft.

"Let's go" is all she says as she turns to walk out. I attempt to keep up with her again as I bump into the people looking at auction items. She is staring out the windshield when I slam my car door. "What is going on? Why would you just take that? I will buy it for you! You don't have to steal it!" It is so out of character of her that I'm still in shock but the anger is starting to come now.

"You wouldn't be able to afford it." She spoke without breaking her gaze. "There is someone here that would have paid more than we would have be able to bid. I had to take it. Now let's go."

"No! We are not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on!" I am starting to yell now but she seems in a deep trance. "Margret!!! Look at me!!" Instead, her head snaps in the opposite direction towards two men who have just exited the barn. They are scanning the parked cars and immediately focus on ours. One raises his arm and points at our car as they both begin to run towards us.

"Go NOW!" are the words that come from Margret but not in her normal voice. It is an animal-like sound and I am so frightened by it that I don't think. Stomping on the accelerator so heavily my tires tear up the grass as the two men run after us.

Margret is turned around in her seat, trying to see if the men are following us. I have made multiple turns on back roads hoping to loose them. Twenty minutes later I pull the car off to the side of a dirt road. Attempting to gain control of myself, I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "I don't think they are following us. Will you tell me what's going on now?" She has turned back around and her eyes are fixed again out the windshield but not seeming to focus on anything.

She suddenly turns her head towards me and there is a look on her face I don't recognize. It all happens so fast. A black car pulling up beside us. Margret pulling a gun from her coat. She leans across the seat in front of me firing her pistol. The glass breaking my driver's side window. The horn from the other car blaring as the two men slump forward, dead from her bullets.

Out of instinct and the terror of what I just saw, I throw the car in gear and take off, only traveling a few hundred yards before I slam on the brakes and open my door and vomit on the ground. I don't say anything. What is the use? She now looks catatonic.

After a few minutes she commands "Drive me to the ocean."

I'm the one that's now staring out the windshield, trying to clear my head. "No. I'm done." I have no idea what to do next but I'm not letting her decide. Margret slowly raises the gun to my temple and restates her command. I will not argue now. I don't know who this is. Who has possessed my wife or what has happened to her but this is not Margret.

The drive takes a few hours and the only time she speaks is to direct me. The wind that blows through my broken driver's side window add to my minds haziness. I can't focus. I'm not sure I even want to think. Margret has also begun to act agitated. She is moving restlessly in her seat and I see from the corner of my eye that her hands are shaking violently.

As we get nearer to the ocean I see that Margret has lead me to a boat rental business. She must have made arrangements ahead of time which only adds to my astonishment. Now I am beginning to understand why she brought me along. Before exiting the car she grabs a bag from the trunk that I didn't realize she had placed in there.

On the boat she continues to direct me. She is now pacing nervously from one side of the boat to the other. Her movements are twitchy and jolted. I can hear her talking to herself and making strange noises now and then. We have traveled a few miles out on the ocean when she tells me to cut the engine.

With shaky hands she opens her suit case and I see that it is filled with bricks. Margret is now sweating and she seems to be struggling to breathe. The argument she is having with herself is still in hushed tones but she winces and snarls with whatever she is fighting. The cup is still in her left hand that spasms as she tries to force it into the suitcase. She seems to be using all her strength to get her hand to release it there when suddenly her right hand grabs the gun from her pocket.

A look of shock and fright cross her face as she holds the gun to her own temple. That is the first sign I see of Margret, my Margret. I take a step toward her to help her and the look on her face changes instantly. "Get back!" it growls at me and swings the gun around to point at me and then it continues "I can see I'm better off keeping it pointed at her." The gun is repositioned at her temple as Margret's face distorts into an evil sneer and a cackle erupts from her.

Stepping back, I see Margret's features come over her face again and a determined look emerges. In her voice she screams a long drawn out "Noooo!" and hurls the gun into the water. After it is released from her hand the sound of the "no" changes back into the growl-like voice and she launches her body at me. Her hands grab my neck with such strength that I realize I can't pry them loose. I look into her eyes and see only evil.

I am loosing consciousness when I see her features change again and she releases her grip. Struggling to get up to help her, I see her closing the suitcase with the cup inside. I make it to her side in time to heave the bag over the side of the boat. It sinks immediately. Margret falls backwards with a thud onto the floor of the boat. She has passed out.

I'm sitting on the floor of the boat holding her in my arms when she comes to."It was the cup." she whispers in her weakness. "I can't explain it but some how it was calling to me. Over time it only got worse. At first I couldn't stop thinking about it, then it seemed to be directing me. That is when I started to fight it. I found I was strong enough but I also found that there was something evil about it, incredibly evil. I knew it had to be destroyed. If I took control of myself completely then it would just find someone else. I had to be the one, I had to allow myself to be lead to it, to possess it. And then it was so strong, it took over when I killed those men. Men who were there to destroy it too. At that point I thought that I was lost, that it had complete control over me. But I fought. I knew needed you with me to handle all the details so that I could focus, focus on staying in control. It's over now. I'm so glad it's over now!"

Margret collapsed in my arms and I gently laid her on the floor of the boat so that I could take us home.

Cape Cod 2025....Kim

My husband has been acting strange lately. This obsession with deep sea diving....

Monday, February 15, 2010

Valentine's Vacuum

I hope everyone had a nice Valentine's Day.
I thought I'd tell you about the wonderful Valentine's gift my Hubby bought me.

It's a vacuum.

Yep, I'm pretty excited. My old vacuum broke last week for like the twentieth time and I fully expected the Hubby to order a new part and fix it like he always does.

My poor old vacuum was looking pretty sad. A hodgepodge of parts. Last year I let one of those "Kirby Vacuum guys" into my house (I know! I'm weak and it was really stupid. Good thing The Hubby came home and rescued me, kicking him out of the house). But anyhoo, this Kirby Vacuum Guy made fun of my sad old vacuum and it actually made me mad. Right at that moment I decided there was no way I was buying one of his fancy vacuum's, insulting something that's been part of my home for the last 10 years. We spent a lot of time know how I am.

So much to my surprise, my hubby starts researching vacuums on the computer. You know, reading reviews, consumer reports and stuff.

We discovered that there are a lot of people out there that are passionate about their vacuums! Trust me on this. I read a couple of the reviews that talked about "sucking power" and the "sheer pleasure from using this vacuum". Some of the reviews were on the verge of getting kinda steamy (and I'm not talking about the vacuum/ steam cleaner combos)!

The Hubby spent an entire evening running around and finally brought me home my new vac. It's really nice. He got home late so I didn't get to try it out until the next day.

He was at work when the Valentine's Day gift subject came up with some of his coworkers. I guess he was getting a little razzed about buying me a vacuum for Valentine's Day. He was trying to convince them that I really wanted it and that I liked it. (I guess some women would kill their husbands if they got a vacuum for a gift--I know! crazy isn't it?).

It was right around this time that I sent him a text telling him that I had just spent "two hours in vacuuming bliss" and had to stop in order to get some other things done. I wanted him to know how much fun I was having using all my new attachments! I needed to tell him couldn't wait till he got home....I might loose the excitement of the moment.
He shared my text with his coworkers. I think to prove that he did a good job on choosing my gift. I think maybe it just made me look a little psycho....

It doesn't really matter because it was one of the best gifts I've received....unless you count the rototiller I got a few years back.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Wimpy snow storms and earthquakes

Well, the "big snow storm" we were suppose to have last night sputtered out...again.
Since we've moved here, we haven't really had much snow to speak of.

I'm not complaining, mind you.
But the kids hate it when all their friends are having snow days back in Kzoo and they have to go to school. Makes it hard for them to not miss Michigan on those mornings.

But I am starting to understand the "looks" and comments I got from some of the neighbors when they saw my snow blower from Michigan. "Wow. That's a really big snow blower you have there."

They all have these wimpy little blowers that are about 12 inches wide and sound like they run on the motor of a toy remote car.

We have a man size snow blower. You know, Troy-Bilt, Briggs and Stratton 9.5 horse power, 5 speed and 2 speed reverse, 26 inch auger. It's huge. Even has head lights (that's what I always tell people because I really don't know much about motors and such...head lights, now that's impressive!)

I feel like Tim Taylor when I use it. Tempted to make one of his husky "oh oh oh" noises and then point it over at my neighbors driveway and bury them.

But I've only used it once since we've been here. I actually like the peace and quiet of shoveling once and a while, especially when there's only a little snow.

The big news around here is the earthquake we had this morning at 4:00 am. The epicenter was less than 10 miles from us and it was a 3.8 (this has all been revised since this morning- originally they said 4.3).

All I know is that it scared the living day lights out of all of us.

I was asleep on the couch downstairs with Ace (long story, he's being a bit of a bad puppy) when the whole house started shaking. There was this deep rumbling noise and Ace was running in circles barking. It lasted about 5 to 10 seconds, enough for me to run around the house while things were shaking all around me, look outside, and then run upstairs. Hubby said "what the heck was that?" we couldn't believe it would be an earthquake. Earthquakes in Illinois? Whoever heard of such a thing.

One of our cats came from Tony's room into our bedroom. His tail was huge and all the hair on his back was standing up straight. It took me a while to find the other cat this morning. He was hiding in between some moving boxes in the basement. Poor guy.

Ace did the same barking running in circles at about 5:30 am again. The news said we probably wouldn't feel any aftershocks but I'm wondering if Ace did.

There were some pretty interesting stories on the Chicago News this morning from people saying their animals alerted them before the quake actually hit. Everything from dogs to cats to birds.

I wasn't sure if it woke the kids or not. None of them came out of their rooms but when I went to wake them up for school Bud rolls over, puts the pillow over his head and says "I'm tired, that earthquake kept me awake last night."

Like we had ten of them last night and it's nothing new to him.
Mac jumped up and said "was that an earthquake at 4 am?" and Tony said "my bed was banging against the wall and I thought it was the puppy".

I'm still shocked that none of them came out of their rooms, scared.
As for me, I made the Hubby hold me tight and fought the urge to go get all my babies and bring them into our bed (yeah I know they are all grown up size) and I really wanted Nae there.

I guess that's a mom thing.

Monday, February 8, 2010

The secret to Ace and the game of fetch

Travis over at I Like To Fish got me addicted to this site where you can make your own motivational pictures. It's called big huge labs.

I wouldn't call my creations "motivational" but I had a lot of fun messing around with some of my pictures.
I think I've finally figured out what is wrong with Ace and why he won't fetch.
It's because he is male.
Plain and simple.
We were out on the golf course again yesterday, playing Ace's version of fetch. I have pretty much given up on him bringing it back to me. And I guess I could use the exercise. So we were getting into the routine of me chasing him around looking like an idiot.
All of the sudden Ace stops and growls. I look over in the direction where he's staring and see one of my neighbors has come out with her cute female pit bull and they are watching us. I tell Ace to settle down and I throw the Frisbee.
And guess what he does. He brings it to me perfectly. He actually places it in my hand! As soon as he releases it he looks over his shoulder at the other dog watching us, then back at me giving me the "throw it! throw it! throw it!" look.
I throw it again, afraid to hope that we are on to something. But he does it, he brings it right to my hand. I'm praising him like crazy but he seems more intent on looking at the other dog to see if she is still watching.
So that's how it went for the next ten minutes while the other dog watched. It was great! Picture the theme song to "Chariots of Fire".....Ace is running full speed. He is leaping gracefully in the air. He looks beautiful. He brings it to my hand each and every time. He actually leaps in the air and catches the Frisbee in his mouth for the first time!
I was so proud.
Then the other dog left.
And Ace dropped the Frisbee 30 feet from me again and gave me the "come and get it chubby!" look.
Stupid dog.
Here's one more picture I made with one of the twins that I thought I'd share.

Have a great day!

Thursday, February 4, 2010

gotta get a dictionary.

It's always entertaining for me to have all the kids together in one room and listen to them talk.

Over Thanksgiving break (yeah this is one of those posts that I started writing forever ago and kinda forgot about it and now since I have nothing else to say...well, you know) we revisited a conversation that we've had a few times in our house.

Tony claims that the meaning of certain words really don't mean much and you can insert them into any sentence at anytime and the meaning of what you are trying to say won't vary much.

Being that I LOVE words and finding out their meanings and discovering new ways to string them together to get a point across, I had to adamantly disagree (actually, this drove me crazy).

He choose the example "supple" for a word to be used anywhere and any time.

And for months now he will randomly insert it in sentences. Not very often. Just enough to get me to stop what I'm doing and give him "that look" (you know--the mom version of rolling her eyes but with a little bit of "I'm gonna smack you if you keep this up" look thrown in too--you know what I'm saying).

Then he gives me one of his "I'm the baby and I know you think I'm cute" smirks.

He uses it as an adverb:
"I ran supply today in gym class."

He uses it as an adjective:
"You should have seen that movie. It was really supple!"

He uses it as an interjection:
I'm showing him something in a magazine and he says "Supple!!! Mom, Supple!!!"

The worst part is I've never liked this word. As soon as I hear it always think of breasts. As in, "the woman had supple breasts". As in, large....I'm not sure where that comes from.

I thought maybe I should put a stop to this, you know, I didn't want Tony doing this outside of our home and offending someone (or maybe just because it bugged me so much). So I thought I'd look up the word just so I could explain it clearly to him.

And this is what I found....

adj. sup·pler, sup·plest
1. Readily bent; pliant.
2. Moving and bending with agility; limber.
3. Yielding or changing readily; compliant or adaptable.

I am so wrong about the meaning of the word. How did I come up with this? I guess it can be used in a sentence describing breasts but not meaning what I thought. Maybe I didn't pay as much attention in English class as I thought.

I don't know why this word bugs me so much (even more now). It grinds on me inside. I think that sounds crazy, but it's the way it is.

And of course, Tony probably realized this from the beginning and that's why he takes such joy in throwing it in when ever he can.

The whole thing reminds me of one of my favorite scenes from The Princess Bride.

Here's a little clip for you.
Oh, and I'm Vizzini....."Inconceivable!" I mean "How Supple!"

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

The Hubby figures out the secret to a long marriage

The Hubby and I are sitting alone in the living room the other day watching TV.

I don't even remember what we were watching. I don't really watch much TV. Hubby always has control over the remote. I'd rather read a book or some blogs or something.

This commercial came on for some toilet paper roll thingie. It spins on the wall so you can instantly change it so the flap of toilet paper is hanging either "over" or "under".
The Hubby gets my attention "hey look at this" just before they show it.

Hubby says "Did you see that?!"

I say "Yes....that is brilliant."

He says "We would never fight over how the toilet paper hangs again!"

I say "When have we ever fought over that?"

He says "I don't know. Which way do you like it?" (he should know this because I'm the ONLY one that ever puts a new roll on. I always find it sitting on top of an empty roll. I've asked him several times how come he can be in there forever and not just put a new roll on...)

I say "We've been married twenty years and you don't know? I like it to hang over the top."
(I also confess that in the past I've gone to peoples houses and changed it to the way I like know, maybe they've never tired it that way and then when they see what they are missing out on they will be like "wow! this way is so much better" and then I will have made difference in the world....come on, don't tell me you've never done this.)

He says "Hmmm, I like it to hang over the top too! Maybe that's why we get along so well and have been married this long."

Yeah. I'm sure that's it.

Ace doesn't seem to have a preference.

I'm pretty sure it has more to do with the fact that I never ask for the TV remote.

Monday, February 1, 2010

I'm starting to believe my dog is just plain stupid

Yes.... I've heard it a millions times.
I'll be taking Ace for a walk and someone will say "is that a Border Collie?"
and I'll say "Yes" and then they will say "you know, they are supposed to be the smartest breed of dog there is...."

My neighbor told me "they are the Einstein of the dog world" "off the chart when you compare other dogs IQ..."

Blah, blah, blah.

What I really want to say is "Well not this one! I think he might have been dropped on his head before we got him"
I even blogged about it before.
Here's some more of the things he has done/does and my thoughts at the time in italics:

~running full speed into the front porch step, which would hit him square in the chest and he would gasp. He did that over and over for months. "Oh, he's just a puppy...he'll learn."

~as he got older he would try and leap over the front step and always leap 2 or 3 strides too soon and smack his face on the step. He would also do when trying to get on the bed or couch. "maybe he has something wrong with his depth perception.... Do dogs ever wear glasses?"

~"playing" with the cat. He will stand there and the cat will be on his hind legs slapping the sides of Ace's head over and over. It's like a bad Three Stooges skit. "maybe he thinks this is how cats play?"

We did go to puppy kindergarten. And he did pretty good there, I thought.
The trainer there did warned us.

She told us to be careful, Border Collies are SO smart that they pretend not to get things just because they don't want to do them or to try and manipulate you.
I kinda wish I had never heard this.
Then I could go on just believing that I have a really stupid dog.

Instead I'm finding that I'm playing mind games. Trying to figure out what Ace is really thinking.

Not good. Here's an example.
It all has to do with fetch.

I have been trying to take Ace out everyday to get some exercise.
I've heard all about how if they don't get enough, they can get destructive.

So I decided the best thing for Ace is to go onto the golf course behind our house and play Frisbee. I figure I will throw the Frisbee, Ace will do a lot of running and fetching. Much better than just a walk on the leash around the neighborhood. Get those most out of our time out in the freezing weather.

All good except Ace has other ideas.

I throw the Frisbee.
Ace runs and gets it.
Then I spend 10 minutes chasing after him to get the Frisbee back.

"oh! I'm sorry did you want this"

So I'm thinking that he thinks this is a game (because he's supposed to be an Einstein- right?).
A game I really don't want to play.
I want him to be a normal dog. I throw, he fetches, we go home, he takes a nap and stops chewing on my furniture, the end.

So I quit chasing him. (that'll show him)

He still won't bring it to me.

Ace will run past me and leave it about 30 feet away and then crouch in his "I'm ready to go position"

If I don't go over and get it he starts whining. Eventually he will go over get the Frisbee and flick it in the air (like he's saying see this fun thing? I'll just have fun without you then.)

So I just stand there and watch him and he starts to whine louder pushing it around with his nose.

I have tried everything.
~Praising him continually as soon as he catches it and starts to run towards me....and stopping when he runs past.
~Praising him only when he gets near.
~Ignoring him completely
~Walking away
~Using my "stern voice" and saying "drop" or "come"
this has been going on forever. No matter what he won't bring it back to me. And I don't give in. It ends up being a huge frustration. I only throw the Frisbee once or twice and we play battle of the wills the rest of the time and eventually go home.

"Frisbee? what Frisbee? I have no idea what you're talking about."

I've spent a lot of time standing on that golf course freezing my butt off trying to figure out what is going on inside his head.
I've come up with two possibilities
#1. He is just plain stupid.
#2. He is obviously concerned with the large amount of time that I spend sitting on the couch blogging and the lack of exercise I'm getting. He also notices the extra pounds that I've put on from not moving around enough and he is concerned about my health.

Yeah. and now I'm feeling pretty insulted.

I think it might be safer to go back to believing my dog is just plain stupid.