This is SCARY Stuff!

This morning my alarm went of at 5am.  I got out of bed, changed the alarm to 6am, and crawled BACK into bed.

At 6am, my alarm went off AGAIN. 

Aren't you glad to know that the alarm on my phone functions just as it should?

Well, unfortunately instead of "snooze" I hit "dismiss."

Which, of course meant I went right back to sleep...

Fast forward what felt like mere seconds.  I stretched, grabbed my phone, and decided to use my weather app to see what the weather would be like...Because experience has taught me that the first words out of my youngest daughters mouth (behind her lengthy groan at having to rise) will be "What's the weather going to be like today?"

Anyway, I grabbed my phone from underneath my right hip, and just as I hit the "unlock" I heard an eerie "swishhhhhhh."

?!

I can always hear Kelsey's collar jingle as she trots down the hall to tell me it's time to get my carcass out of bed.  And Chesney always makes Chewbacca sounds as she stretches, and even if those bizarre growls don't wake me, her tail whacking the door frames as she goes down the hall certainly will.

But all I could hear was a very constantly paced "swissshhhhhh."  And it was coming down the hall to my room!  Hashtag!  Something is coming to get me!

I said in a weak, thready voice, "Kelsey?"  The swish remained steadily paced.  No reassuring jingle. 

"Chesney?"  No thumping tail or Wookiee moans to alert me as to the identity of the source.

You know how when you first wake up, your brain is fuzzy and perhaps not rational?  Well, I don't know what the heck I thought was swishing down the hall to me, but it took all of my willpower not to let out a blood curdling scream when warm breath started fanning my face.

Then I realized the warm breath was attached to a dog that was carrying her security blanket down the hall, and since she was dragging it, she apparently wasn't wagging her tail or talking in Wookiee.

She was just scaring the crap out of me.

But in the end it was all good, as I had actually went back to sleep for FORTY minutes instead of a mere few seconds. 

Turns out that early adrenaline rush was just the thing to get me moving quickly to get everyone out the door on time!

The Rotation

The dogs sleep in the house at night.  I bring them in around 8:30 or so, and since time has changed, but Kelsey has no concept of time change, she huffs past me and heads straight to bed.  Her frustration with my lack of consideration for her sleep time are quite obvious. 

Chesney, however runs around like a spazz, fetching and retrieving and generally acting goofy.  Until she finds the bag of sweet potatoes, and if you aren't quick enough, you will notice it is too quiet.  Quiet like, "what are my children doing" quiet.  Only my kids are usually in bed, and Chesney can usually be found quietly noshing on a sweet potato.  So, if you happen to notice puncture marks in your sweet potatoes when you are at my house, I have no idea how they got there.

This is Chesney's painful attempt at "stay."  I assure you every fiber of her being want to dash up to me, then crawl between my legs and lay down.  It's her safe spot.

Anyway, sometime between the hours of 5:30 and 7:00am, I let the dogs out.  The time is now gloriously fluid because A)have I mentioned I only go to work twice per week now and B)Chesney's bladder is a little more able to take a longer sleep in. 

As I let the dogs out, an amazing cycle begins.  A cat jumps over both dogs as they scramble out the back door.  Then, if the cat is Oliver, he runs to the front door and meows.  Now, this makes little sense to me as he just came from the BACK door, but now he wants out the front door.  Although, why it surprises me is ridiculous.  He meows at the gate to the yard if I'm outside too.  But I don't blame him.  Would you rather scale a chain link fence, or let your human open the gate for you?  Anyway, I let his majesty out the front door.

As I go into the kitchen to start up my Keurig, invariably I hear a chirruping "meow."  That would be Misty.  The ruckus at the back door has woken her.  I open the door and ask "How do you get in here every night?  Every night I put you both OUTSIDE, yet one or the other finds their way BACK in the garage before I get up."  You see, the cat in the garage, and the cat outside rotates.  I never know if I will see a streak of gray sleekness leap over the dogs, or a mass of black and white fluff. 

It kind of keeps things fresh, y'know?

So, in this particular example of the morning rotation, Misty is in the garage.  And she is using her chirruping meow.  I open the door, because I'm stupid, and she runs in the house, weaves herself around my legs, then proceeds to the front door, where I have just released Oliver, and lets out a long, plaintive, raspy "meeeeoooooow."  Of course, the kids are still asleep about 60% of the time at this point.  Or at least, they are PRETENDING to be asleep as they do not want to leave the comfort of their warm beds.  So, in order to give my little angels a few moments more shut eye, I open the door to let Misty out.  Because apparently I have no authority over the cats in this house.   I mean, I put them out every night.  Every morning at least one is in the garage, demanding to be released.*

Oh, don't let that calm demeanor fool you.  This cat outright talks to you.  And if she doesn't get her way, she talks and talks and talks until you just give in and do whatever it is she wanted in the first place.

You know what happens next, right?  Oliver runs right into the house, seeing as I have not filled his food dish, and that was the only reason he wanted on the front porch in the first place.  Now the thing with Oliver is this:  He owns a human.  Well, he owns three technically.  Because Bookworm takes no ownership of him whatsoever, and I scratch him when I fancy, and Brent pretty much dotes on him.  But Popcorn?

Oh, he OWNS her.  She knows it.  He knows it.  Shoot, the whole family knows it.

Well, upon discovering that I have not filled his food dish as was his wont, he dashes back into the house. Gentle Reader, let it be known that I NEVER fill the food dish of any animal in this house unless my children are gone.  So why he considers this a surprise every single morning is a mystery.  However, he is greatly offended.  And he knows exactly who to go tattle to.  He pussy foots his fluffy self right past me, makes a persnickety left at the piano, and heads directly to his child.  He prances into her room, meowling his strangely dainty meow for an 18 pound ball of fluff, and hops onto Popcorn's bed.

Here is Mr. Flufferpants himself, surveying his child's domain

She promptly picks him up and carries him...

To the garage.  Where she shuts the door, then goes to her room to get ready for school.

As I typed this post, I kept having one thought buzz around my brain "The definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over yet expecting different results."

For the life of me, I can't tell you who the insane one is.

*Gentle Reader, the magic of the cats in the garage has turned out to not be magic at all.  It turns out that as Brent leaves through the garage, then out the door to the back yard through the garage, at least one cat darts in.  And then plaintively meows.  And then he feeds them.  IN THE GARAGE.  The issue with this is that I was scolding the girls for WEEKS that they had better stop feeding the cats in the garage so the cats would quit dashing in every time the door was opened.  Of course, they denied feeding the cats.  "Then how does the bowl of food keep appearing?"  Oh, Gentle Reader, the culprit was found out.  And then I learned that not only do I have no authority over the cats in my life, apparently I have none over my husband who can't stand to hear their pitiful wails at 4:30 in the morning. 
 

My Protector

Wednesday morning I kept hearing a loud banging sound...I had been hitting snooze on my alarm clock, as I have a harder time dragging my carcass out of bed when it's cooler out...

I finally realized it was a whopping 5:30 am and Brent had left the dogs outside who apparently thought they were on the verge of freezing to death since it was only 36 degrees out...

The big babies.

I let them in and collapsed my bleary self on the floor with a dog on each side and scratched their ears and pondered how thankful I was that I didn't have to work since I had worked a thirteen hour day on Tuesday...

Kelsey suddenly let out a little huff of "woof" and looked at the door.  Kelsey learned from early on that she was not permitted to bark in the house.  I wish she would instill this value in Chesney, but Chesney feels the need to bark any time she's not getting her way...

Anyway, I was shocked to hear this hushed "woof."  She let out a few more huffy "woofs," looked at the back door then raised all of her hackles and let out a low growl...

I no longer felt bleary eyed...

I was suddenly feeling quite alert.

And more than a tiny bit freaked out...

I strained to see what had her so worked up, but when she saw me looking at the door, she prowled over and proceeded to let out several low huffing "woofs" with a growl in between, complete with hackles raised...

I considered the vast array of weapons and artillery in our house.  I wondered if I was clear on how to load them after years of not doing so...I wondered whether to call my husband and demand he drive home to see what was in our back yard, obviously on the verge of committing mayhem...Perhaps I should call the cops, but the last time my husband had to do that, the officer took an hour to arrive and admitted he had been eating breakfast at McDonalds.

I finally decided to unleash the beast...

That's Kelsey in case you're wondering.

Kelsey dashed into the back yard and immediately began her "I'm a big dog and nobody better mess with me" bark.  It is quite a bark to behold, let me tell you.

She ran to the east side of our yard, where I could hear our neighbors German Sheppard barking also.  She stood there a minute, barked some more...

Then turned and ran back to me...

Hackles still raised...

She scratched at the door...

I let her in with hackles still raised...

She looked one last time over her shoulder...

And she walked over to her bed and laid down. 

Disaster averted.

It made me think of another time that she scared the dickens out of me.  We were still living in south Texas, except Brent had already moved to Oklahoma.  I was letting the girls finish out their school year.  I had awesome neighbors.  Nearly every one of them approached me about calling them if I ever needed anything, and each of them also assured me they had a gun if needed.  I laughed and said we would be fine, but thanks for the offer... 

You see within the immediate vicinity of my house was a San Antonio police detective next door,a retired detective and current mayor of my town across the street, a couple who raised police dogs and were both retired military North of the mayor, and on the other side of the mayor my good friend Eloi, who was also retired military as well as retired stay at home husband while wife still works....

One night I was in the kitchen (making cookies or baking bread or some other equally domestic thing) and Kelsey went over to our front door and started sniffing all along the base.  Deep sniffs as if she was trying to draw all of the outside air into her lungs.  She froze.  She started a low ominous growl in her throat.  She raised he hackles and began to pace back and forth across the door way.

She let out a few more huffs of "woof" and growled some more...I had NEVER seen her do such a thing.

I nearly had a heart attack.  So, I did what any self respecting mother would do...I called one of my many gun toting neighbors (we were in Texas remember) and asked them to come see what was up.  Eloi willingly came over and cased the area.  He couldn't find anything, and said it was probably a possum or some other critter on the front porch.  I sheepishly thanked him, gave him a fictitious plate of cookies and sent him back home to his wife Doris...

So thus far Kelsey has fearlessly protected me from...

Well, nothing as far as I can tell!

But I'm pretty sure her heart is in the right place!

Puppy Antics...

It's raining today.

And it's my day off.

And there are no fantabulous deals at Homeland.

So I'm sitting on the couch sipping hot cocoa laced coffee and not feeling guilty for doing nothing...

Well, I'm feeling guilty about my thighs, but that's irrelevant.

The obvious answer to that dilemma is homemade banana and pumpkin bread...

I decided to delay that spurt of productivity by sharing some puppy antics with you...

Aawww!!  Look at that picture of innocence!

Too bad it was directly following a wild chase through the house by Popcorn who was endeavoring to save a baby bib I had stored in a cabinet under our bar that was made specifically for her by one of the leader of my MOPS group...The strings were dangling out after I had dug through the cabinet looking for my fall napkins...

The chase lead to this:

So, after much crashing and banging and excessive yelling by everyone present she decided she should lay docilely on the floor to prove her overall cuteness.

Oh, and what about this sweet little snapshot I took last night?  Well, Brent had decided it was bedtime.  Chesney refused to lay down next to him on her pillow case and sack out with him on the floor.  (This is their normal 8pm routine, followed by me waking Brent around 9:30 and telling him to put his puppy to bed and come to bed with me.)

Well, as I said she did not feel like going to bed at 8pm last night.  Instead she was rolling around on the floor, getting into everything she shouldn't get into, and generally getting on his nerves as he wanted to go to sleep while watching the timeless Halloween classic "Lost Boys" on Netflix...

He scooped her up and shoved her in her crate.  And she proceeded to yelp and whine and whimper.  She did not WANT to be in her crate when the living room lights were still on and the family was still awake...

So she endeavored to keep the girls awake, and was quite successful!  They yelled "SERIOUSLY!!??  She is keeping us awake!"  So, I broke the rules and let her out of her crate where she walked directly to Kelsey's bed and promptly squeezed between her and the desk and went to sleep. 

I think Brent was slightly annoyed by her choice of sleeping partner...

Since it is raining, and I'm off work.  The dogs are in the house with me.  Chesney is getting a tad rambunctious.  I am trying to teach her that playing rough is not allowed in the house...Kelsey is not doing an adequate job of discipline, which is clearly her job...

I mean part of the family's argument when begging me to get a new puppy was that we needed a puppy while Kelsey was still young enough to "train" her...So far Kelsey is gleefully joining in games of tug of war with stuffed animals (dog toys, thankfully) and wrestling matches directly at my feet...

I lost my patience with their antics this morning and yelled in my best "I've had it" mommy voice...

"That is ENOUGH!!  Kelsey!!  GO TO BED!  Chesney!  Go AWAY!!!"
 

They slunk out of the kitchen and plopped down on the carpet, gazing woefully at me like this:

But it did not make me feel guilty.  Not one little bit.  Instead it inspired me to stop any pretense of productivity and write a blog!

And Chesney has decided that all is forgiven and she is running maniacally around the sofa I'm sitting on, weaving under the table the lap top is sitting on, behind the sofa, then behind the recliner, and between the end table and wall where she knocked the lamp off just two days ago.

Lord help me, what was I thinking when I decided to surprise Brent with a puppy???

Oh, but on a brighter note:  I hung some chimes from the door and have been using her nose to ring them each time I take her out...She has rang them THREE times this morning and went outside to potty!  I'm finally getting trained...

Of COURSE We Came Home With Two!

Last summer my girls spent time with my parents.  My dad decided that he did not have a special "something" that was just for him and Popcorn.  He rides horses with Bookworm, but Popcorn has no patience for anything that requires a calm demeanor.  He fishes with my nephews.  Again, Popcorn is short on patience, so while they fish she tends to flit away and get into mischief while they angle for the big one.

Well, while the girls were at my folks, Dad had to go the local sale barn to either buy or sell cattle, I can't remember which.  He took care of his livestock business, but he also did an unthinkable thing.

He came home with a kitten.  A kitten that belonged to him, (another unthinkable thing) but knowing how much Popcorn adored cats, she could play with "his" kitten all she wanted while she was at his house.  He even let her keep it in the house!  Shock shock!!!

Anyway, this adorable little kitten grew up.  She grew up and had a litter of her own this spring.  Well, my parents have been hounding me about "how many kittens" we were taking ever since Mitten dropped a litter of five about the same time one of their many barn cats had a litter of kittens.  The barn cats are all wild and impossible to catch, so my parent's odds of finding the new kittens and getting them tamed down to give away are not great...I have told them over and over that the cat is "Dad's cat" not my problem...

Remember we went to see my grandma last weekend?  Well, my parents were in Yellow Stone and my mom had asked me to go by and put some water on her flowers.  We have had a ridiculously hot summer.  It was 110 at my parents the day we were there.  I spent about an hour or so in the ridiculous heat watering flowers.  Of course during that time my precious girls found the perfect two female kittens to bring home with us!

Yes, two.  Yes, female.  I am hoping Oliver will be less likely to kill/lead off female kittens.  Hoping, hoping, hoping.  Especially since the girls have held the little sweeties nearly nonstop since we left my folks.

Kelsey is absolutely in love with them.  They are NOT in love with her.  They only want to spit at her and scratch her nose.  This makes her all worked up, and she ends up yipping and nipping them on the behind.  I hope they work out their differences soon.  Kelsey was never a concern, as she has always adored baby kittens.  However, these kittens are a few weeks older than the others I've brought to her, so they are a little more leery.

Please remind me of their cute factor when I'm griping at my destroyed caladiums in a week.

Thankfully Oliver has no use for them.  He walked into the garage where they were.  They hissed and spit at him, arching their little backs and running away.  He ran under our car to hide, realized they were tiny little threats, plopped down on his belly, narrowed his eyes at them and went to sleep.

Hopefully this status quo doesn't change.

The story we've told the girls is the kittens will NOT be in the house.  They may not survive.  It's called the circle of life.  They will be sad, but they will have to deal with it.

And now let the comments begin about spaying/neutering pets and that indoor pets live longer safer lives...

I can take it.  But you gotta admit:  They are pretty stinkin' cute!

 

Exhaustion

I am supposed to be mowing my lawn.

Or cleaning my house.

Or doing laundry.

But instead I'm reading blogs of people who I don't even know for the most part.  Poor Brent is back at work...

Kelsey is glad to be home from work.

She was on duty all weekend long while we were camping.  She kept her eye on the kids all day the first day.  If they actually bothered to play near the campsite she would come and lay down under a camper...But as soon as they headed off to who knows where, she would drag herself up, heave a big sigh and trot after them.  The second day she was more relaxed and had decided they weren't going to wander off and meet any bears in the woods...

You know dogs sleep 18 hours a day, right?  Well, she would crash as soon as we went in the camper, and not move until the next morning.  As soon as we loaded her in the back seat for the ride home, this happened.  And she did not move a single muscle until we pulled into the driveway.

Poor old girl.  Raising kids is hard work. 

Skunks, Potty Mouths, and I Didn't Sign Up For This!

My dog got sprayed by a skunk yesterday at about 5am. I know the time because I actually smelled it in my bedroom!

I would like to announce that this is exactly one year and 8 days since my niece Sarah spotted the adorable ferret/gerbil which was actually a skunk in our culvert!

I had to change scrubs when I got to work because I could still smell skunk...

My bedroom smelled like skunk last night.

I fear that my house STILL smells like skunk, but my olfactory bulb has adjusted...Darn that rapidly adjusting sense organ!

Bookworm is pretty pumped to be on leadership at school. She is the hall monitor in the mornings and the line monitor in the lunchroom...

She heard a kid say the "P" word today. She informed the kid that he shouldn't say bad words.

"P isn't a bad word, IDIOT!"

I asked what she said to him then..."Nothing! I didn't know what to say!"

"Was he in 4th or 5th grade?"

"NEITHER!! He was in KINDERGARTEN!"

Kids these days. She was quite disillusioned. I think she realized she has been given much responsibility with no authority.

I had a "why am I nurse?" moment today....

A patient was very unstable with a massive infection in his left kidney. The urologist had tried putting a stent in the kidney and giving antibiotics. They both proved ineffective. Subsequently, the patient went into septic shock. Septic shock results in increased heart rate and massive dilation of the vessels, which causes blood pressure to drop dangerously low. Other stuff happens, but I was concerned at this moment that the patient was on 3 medications to bring up his pressure and his heart rate down and he was still only in the 80s for his systolic (top number,) and his heart rate was still in the 120s, and his platelets were 12. Platelets are needed to make your blood clot. We like them to be over 150.

Did you catch that? He was 12. We like 150...

I personally like to think that we can actually stop bleeding if it happens to occur.

"Dr, I'm not sure about putting this patient on the table. Can we do this in the ICU using ultrasound?" Translation: I really wanted this to be on the ICU nurses plate, not mine. Just bein' real here.

He looked at me with his serious face and said, "I can only do this under fluoro (that's xray to you non radiology folks). We have to bring this patient down."

"I'm a little uncomfortable with this patient's stability." Never say I give up easily.

"Andi, if we don't get this drain in his kidney, he's going to die."


Allllllllrighty then.

I went and got him. But I wanted to say, "I'm afraid he's going to die on the table."

We don't say that stuff out loud though. Instead we do our job.

And sometimes I think I'm crazy for doing it.

But when I stop and think about something so simple (if using live digital xrays to insert a line into the kidney to drain the infection is simple) can make a life or death difference....

That's pretty cool. And I'm glad God gave our doctor's the knowledge to know what to do. And I'm glad He has made me a small part of it.

So, who wants to grow up and be a nurse?

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

This big ole ball of fluff thinks he is now a house cat. NOT an outdoor cat. NOT even the garage cat that he had established himself as previously... Nope. Since he has had to share the garage with the dogs for an entire night, he has now declared himself a house cat. Good luck convincing him otherwise. If the door is open, he will be running in it and plopping down in the middle of the floor where he will then roll onto his back and show everyone his big fluffy belly in an effort to seduce them into believing he is all that is wonderful and good and the humans simply must leave this adorable monstrous ball of flufferpants indoor....Until he scratches the couch. Then I scoop him up and toss him outside...Where he sits at the door and complains very loudly that he is cold and unhappy. Because, obviously, he is lacking in insulation... So, I relent and pick him up and take him to the garage...Where he positions himself at the garage and continues to voice his complaints....
I can't say as I blame the poor fella...He has to endure this ball of energy in the garage. Holly is bad enough outside where she will park her tail wagging self under his chair and bark and nip relentlessly until he gets VERY angry and swats her nose. Then, she trots away, happy as a lark because her game worked...She got a rise out of His Royal Highness, Lord Fluffy...

Guess what else? Near disaster was diverted with this pesky pooch last night. I opened the door to the garage to let the dogs do their business at about 7pm. I figured, it's cold, the wind is blowing 40 mph and it's snowing. They'll dart out of the garage maybe 4 feet, do their business and come back in. WRONG. Holly ran outside and literally disappeared in the snow. I called her. She did not come back. Holly has many, many flaws, but she comes when called (confession: unlike my own dog who pretends she can't hear me.) I went out in search of her. After about 15 minutes in the cold, blinding snow, I came in to confess my error to Studmuffin. He put on his winter gear and joined me. We walked the entire length of our neighborhood, (okay that's only 7 houses, but did I mention it was cold?) and there was no sign of Holly. The wind was blowing so hard, I couldn't even find her tracks where she ran out of the garage, they had already drifted in... We were unable to take the truck out to look for her because a drift had formed across our drive and into the street. I went into the house to begin supper, sick at my stomach, and feeling guilty. Studmuffin said, "Well, I would have done the same thing. Who would think the dumb dog would run off and disappear?" Obviously, he is way nicer than me, and the word "idiot," never passed his lips. Thankfully, she finally came home after about 30 minutes, completely white with snow and shaking all over. Her little pink sweater was a big clump of ice. Yes. She has a sweater. I buy them for her because she shivers when it's cold. I buy pink ones because it annoys Studmuffin. She is supposedly his dog, and apparently hot pink is not close enough to blaze orange for a hunting dog...I have yet to see her hunt, so I figure hot pink is pretty cute!

This child barely had time to glance at her presents from Santa. Yes, she was up before dawn, so in reality, she probably studied them more than I realize, as she checked everything out before waking me up...




But still, as you can see from the pictures, they were both bundled up and playing in the white Christmas snow as soon as it was light enough....Even before they dined on their highly nutritious breakfast of ginger and sugar cookies! I had baked all of those darn cookies to share with my family, and there was no way I was cooking breakfast when I had a perfectly wonderful cop out... Also, if I don't cram them down the girls every chance I get they will be eaten by yours truly, and frankly, my thighs really don't want that.


While they played in the snow, I turned a blind eye to the toy explosion on my living room floor. It is Christmas, and other than cleaning the kitchen between meals, I refuse to clean up. No company is coming. We are not going anywhere. The floors will be trashed nonstop by the endless trekking of kids, dogs, and a very large cat in and out of my house. I hate pointless endeavors, so I've decided to endeavor not to see the giant puddles at my front and garage doors. I will simply ignore the piles of coats and hats and gloves and socks, except to toss them in the dryer in anticipation of the next venture into the winter wonderland...After all, after living in South Texas, this is indeed a wonderful gift for them.... Yep, I ignored the entire glorious mess and ate cookies and drank coffee and watched them out the window from the warmth of my kitchen.


Oh, I ventured out eventually. After I was more perked up. I felt the need to check on Studmuffin. You notice there is no brace on...Apparently, he is now a super man and will not fall on the ice. I will refrain from mentioning who I saw bust it twice on the ice this morning. No, the man I observed did not have on a brace. He did, however perform an amazing tuck and roll to his left shoulder, in what appeared to be an attempt to protect his right. Nope. I'm not pointing fingers or naming names.... I'm just reporting an event that I happened to see...

By the way, it is at this point that I simply must say, that Studmuffin fully approved yesterday's post on his Man Moment. He read it before posting, and we both laughed so hard we had tears running down our faces. I have promised to never post anything that portrays him negatively, but that day was just to priceless and blogworthy, so we both agreed it had to be shared....

Returning to subject:

Now, this precious pooch did not think the snow was so wonderful. Have I ever told you that Kelsey is a dingo? I got her at a shelter near San Antonio. If you ever travel to Mexico, you will see a million stray dogs...And they all look just like Kelsey. Of course, they have all nursed a million litters of pups, so they have one slight anatomical difference from her! Anyway, she hates cold weather...And since her recent head injury I have not made her stay outside much. She has turned into my shadow. Her current goal in life is to sit at my feet at all times. She did this when I first rescued her, but now it is 20 times worse than ever before. Also, you may notice some scars on her snout. She and Holly had a HUGE battle after she was injured. I'm talking horrific, blood everywhere, horror movie fight. Apparently, some dominance issues came up after Kelsey became the weaker dog. She still is weaker physically, but I'm not sure who's dominant. I do know she doesn't like Holly to get near me. She tolerates it, but she doesn't trust her. I will say they seem to have worked out their differences for the most part. They are actually sleeping on top of each other again, so that is a good sign. Many people ask if she's the same dog. I don't really know. She is the same with our family, only she is just really tired. I don't know if she still hasn't fully recovered, or if she will no longer be a rambunctious, full of life dog again...Time will tell. Unfortunately, the best test I can think of for her involves hunting, and I don't know how to suddenly find a rodent to sick her on...

Anyway, there is picture diary/glimpse of our Christmas. Bookworm and I also worked on doll house furniture. I think she's thanked me at least 20 times for it, so I guess she likes it okay.... I will post pictures of our handiwork later...

Hope everyone's Christmas was full of cheer and fun!

Bad Tempered...

Don't let this sweet little face fool you...

Kelsey is still complaining of a headache. She lays her head on me whenever I start to pet her. Not in a, "yeah, keep scratching" sort of way. It's more a "I can't hold my head up a second longer, but please keep scratching me..."

I was gone all day, and when we got home she trotted out of the garage to greet us and do her business. As we were carrying Christmas decorations in, she came in and laid down where her bed normally is. She has been remaining in the garage most of the time. I think that being in with us wears her out, so she has preferred very little stimulus. I was happy to see her feeling better, so I brought her bed in and left her to a nap in the living room.

I decided to go in the garage and bring Holly in for a little attention. She came barreling in the garage, and straight into the house. I had not realized the door was not fully latched. I started calling for her to stop, as it had been raining today and I had not even gotten a chance to see if her paws were muddy. The girls heard me hollering, and they began to yell at her too. She bounded right past them, and directly onto Kelsey...


Who, quick as a blink, had her thrown off of her and pinned to the ground!

I was totally shocked! Kelsey has always tolerated anything Holly would throw at her. Now, when we were disciplining Holly the first few months we had her, if she didn't listen to us, Kelsey would growl at her and kind of knock her down. I think that with her head hurting and all of us yelling at Holly, she simply took matters into her own paws so to speak.

As soon as I drug her off of Holly and picked Holly up (Holly continued to try and play with Kelsey, and Kelsey was having none of that today), she wobbled back to her bed and plopped down. I really think the only reason she was able to get on top of Holly was because Holly was so surprised to have Kelsey not lay there and take any and every abuse she dished out. Did you know that I have seen Holly grab Kelsey by the scruff of the neck and start dragging her across the deck when Kelsey is refusing to play? And Kelsey has always just sighed (literally), gotten up, and played with her.

I carried Holly to the garage, gave her some attention. I tried to get Kelsey to get up and interact with us, but the effort to defend her family apparently tuckered her plum out. She has been napping ever since...

Kelsey

Can you believe it has been over a week since I last posted? Well, I have certainly had an eventful week.

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving with family, and I have lots of great stories to share with you, but this post is a story, but it doesn't start out so wonderful.

Friday evening I was standing out in the yard at my in-laws talking with Studmuffin's aunt and sister-in-law. A semi truck drove by going at least 55 mph. Kelsey shot out after it, to make sure the giant beast never dared to return. Unfortunately, before she returned to me after performing her guard duties, a pickup truck with a hay trailer zoomed by going every bit as fast as the truck. She didn't come trotting back to me.

I calmly walked away from my conversation and called her. Holly came bounding towards me. She skidded to a halt, spun around and dashed back to the road. Before I could get to the road she had done the dash, spin, and return to me 2 other times. I felt as if my legs were moving in slow motion, but I really dreaded coming over the rise at the northeast corner of the driveway.


What seemed an eternity later, but entirely too fast for my sanity, I saw her. Her strong body lay lifeless on the side of the road, with her head twisted up and behind her. She wasn't breathing. Holly stood over her and trembled, looking at me as if I was supposed to fix this horrible tragedy. I laid my hands on her and could feel no movement of breathing. I searched for a pulse, but my expertise does not extend to finding a pulse on a dog in a moment of panic.

I tried to hurry to the house, but I was afraid to run because all of the kids were outside playing. I walked into the house, and said in as calm a voice as possible, "Brent! Kelsey got hit by a car. She's dead." And I fell to my knees and began to sob in this week pitiful way, that seemed totally out of proportion to me.

Studmuffin got up and ran out the door. I followed him, but I couldn't make myself run, but was unable to walk...She remained at the side of the road in the same horrific position I had left her. We examined her and agreed she wasn't breathing. He picked her up and carried her over to his brother's pickup and laid her down....

I went over to Aleta & Anita and asked them to get the kids inside so they wouldn't see her. I turned around and returned to my precious dog...."She's started breathing, but it's only every once in a while," Brent told me as I began to walk back. "That's not breathing. It's agonal and it doesn't count." By the time I got back to the pickup she was breathing hard and rapidly. Her body remained limp, but her eyes were open. Her pupils were constricted down. Blood was coming out of her eyes and nose, and her tongue was hanging limply out the side of her mouth...I didn't know what to do. I know this seems crazy, but my first thought was, "I don't know how to assess if a dog's nervous system is intact."

I decided to call my Uncle Harry who lives in a nearby town, and is a veterinarian. He gave me some instructions on how to do a quick test to see if she was responsive. My brother-in-law took his pocket knife and poked her foot. No reaction. Her legs were limp, and no matter what we did to them, she showed no signs of feeling pain. Her breathing remained fast and labored, and her eyes were focused on nothing.

We made the horrible, difficult decision to end her suffering. Brent & his brother took her to the pasture on the back of the truck. Brent secured his brother's promise to take care of her, because he just didn't know if he could do that to her, even if it was best for her...

As Brent climbed out of the pickup and turned around, Kelsey lifted her head and tried to pull her feet up under her! He jumped back so far, his brother thought he must have seen a snake...She did it again..

"What do we do now?" They decided to call me. I called my uncle, and he helped arrange for a vet to meet me at the local clinic.

We agonized over moving her because we continued to fear for a spinal injury, but I refused to let her ride on the back of a flat bed pickup down bumpy rural roads to a town 20 some miles away....Brent picked her up and we placed her in blankets in the back of our car.

I vacillated between deadly calm with a sense of unrealness to the whole situation, to crying over the loss of my dear friend.

The vet met us at the door to the clinic and carried her in. I was amazed at his lack of hesitation in lifting and moving her. He did a quick exam of her reflexes, looked her over, and pronounced, "I think she just got her bell rung really hard. Her breathing is stable, her heart rate is steady, and I don't find any broken bones." He then had me help insert an IV, and he started loading her up on IV steroids. We left her in his care, with the promise that he would call in the morning with an update unless she took a turn for the worse, and then he would call us right away. His last words to me were, "I'm somewhat optimistic. Her pupils are already dilating back out, and she is trying to move."

The next morning he called with news that her vision was still a little poor (she had been obviously completely blind the night before as her head wobbled around with her eyes completely unfocused) and her balance was not great but she was up and moving. However, she wasn't eating so he wanted to keep her another day.

Fast forward to Sunday morning. I received my call. "Well. She still isn't eating. I have to force her to do any activity. At this point you can take her home and nurse her, but if she doesn't eat there is only so much you can do...stroke....may never recover....relearn basic skills.....blah, blah, blah."

By the time I hung up the phone I was a complete wreck all over again.

We drove the 55 miles from my parents to the vet's and the ride seemed to creep by at the same time that I dreaded arriving. My girls were excited because they were eager to see their friend, and ready to take her home. We arrived a few minutes before the vet, and we prepared them for the worst...

We followed Jesse into the clinic, into the back, where he opened the door to an indoor pen they have for large animals. As soon as I said her name, she stood up as quick as her wobbly legs would hold her and stumbled over the step to leave the pen, and straight to her family. It was wonderful. It was awful. She was alert and excited to see us, but obviously in pain and very weak. We walked her out the door where she wobbled straight to our car and sat down at the rear hatch to be let in....

I forgot to mention that I had been clinging to the hope that she wasn't eating because she was in a strange place where she was scared. After all, the reason we started to travel with her was because she has always refused to eat when we are gone...

She slept all of the way home (4 hours.)


We gently set her out of the car and she walked straight into the house and to her bed.

To help shorten this story for you, I will now give you an update to her current status. the first day and a half she vomited up everything I put down her. finally last night she kept her food down. She has been staying in the garage for the most part, because it is quiet and I don't have to scrub vomit out of the carpet. Correction, Studmuffin doesn't have to clean vomit out of the carpet. I was so wrapped up in her yesterday morning, and feeding the kids, he ended up cleaning carpet.

Today I took her to our vet here in town so that I could get some follow up. The vet here recommended we continue the steroids and pepcid we are doing, along with coaxing her to eat whatever she will (canned dog food), and keep her as quiet as possible. She said she is very lucky, seems to be recovering pretty quickly, and SHE SHOULD MAKE FULL RECOVERY!!!

She still has balance issues. She tends to stumble when she tries to change directions too quickly. She weaves continuously when she is eating or drinking over her bowl, and she can't just sit because her legs slide out from under her. But, she is actually getting out of her bed and getting up to greet me when I come check on her.

And Holly? Well, we've really limited contact, but she has been very worried about her friend. This morning when we let her in, she walked over with her little stub tucked between her tail and laid down beside Kelsey, and placed her leg over Kelsey's. It was so sweet I cried all over again.

Now, don't you wish I wouldn't take so many days away from blogging so i wouldn't have so many words stored up? Don't worry. I know this post was agonizingly long, but I promise my next few will be fun!

Hey, on a lighter note, did you know that Studmuffin didn't learn to read and write until he was in college? Apparently he only learned then so he could write me love letters. At least, that's what he told the girls the other night at dinner....

Holly

Have I mentioned it's hot outside? Never fear, I hear a cool front's coming through, so the highs will be near 90 this weekend instead of 105! Woohoo!!


Holly has actually calmed down since it's so hot. I've been finding Bookworm out petting her in the middle of the afternoon. "It's best to pet Holly when it's hot outside, because she's actually calm. I guess it's too hot to run all over."



Well, heaven forbid I have a calm Brittney puppy at this house! She is about 9 months old now. She is actually drastically improving. I've noticed she really loves water. She runs through every scrap of it she can find, and with the temperature and lack of rain, she hasn't been finding much except in the water dish. Of course, when she climbs in it, she accidentally splashes out all of the water. I've been having to fill the dog bowl several times a day to keep up with her, and when I leave for work we leave several pails of water around in hopes that she leaves at least on upright.


This weekend I decided enough was enough. I went and bought that puppy a pool. I figured she'd chew it up in a matter of minutes, but she hasn't. I originally had it under a tree between the pool and a tree in our back yard. The dogs love to chase each other through the back yard, and dashing around the pool as fast as possible is there very favorite game. The first day I put it out, she would run around the pool, dive into her wading pool, jump out and run around again. It was hilarious. Of course, as soon as I decided to get the camera to take pictures she stopped. Today, however, she was very agreeable to posing for pictures. As you can see, Studmuffin moved the pool under the deck of our pool. This way the water stays cooler longer.


So there you have it. A happy dog, happy in her pool. Notice Kelsey is not in the pool in any of these photos. She hates water. She won't even walk through puddles! Also, you may notice landscape fabric shredded everywhere. Holly dug underneath the landscape fabric, and straight to the electrical that goes to our pool lights. I don't know how she is still alive. Our temporary fix is a big board and a wagon on top. She'll never get through that, right?

Right?

Why do I feel as if I'm being laughed at?

I smell a rat

Bookworm had her end of softball season party Tuesday. We got home a little after 9pm. I had not had a chance to grab our mail, so I went and got it. Studmuffin had pulled into the garage and he and the girls had headed inside. Of course, he left the garage door up so I could come in easily.

I was strolling back from the mailbox when I saw a dark figure running down our sidewalk and around the corner of our house...Right for the garage. I did what any responsible adult with an attack dog would do. I started screaming, "KELSEY! KELSEY! GET IT! GET IT!" at the top of my lungs in a shrill Marilyn voice, that gives me shudders every time I hear it come out of my mouth....

Kelsey and Holly came barreling around the corner, and skid to a stop. The gate was closed, so they could only get so close to the intruder. Kelsey immediately assumed the position: crouched low, hackles raised, teeth bared. Holly fell all over herself and Kelsey trying to see what the occasion was. I continued to shriek and holler. The dark object must have been terrified by all my carrying on. It ran right past the open garage door....


Under the gate to the back yard....

And straight into the jaws of death.


Umm, no.




I did not take a picture of our intruder either in life or death.




But it was a rat.




And it was big.




And I screamed like a girl.




But now it's dead.




And Oliver was on the front porch sleeping through the whole thing. Big ol' worthless ball of fluff.



The end.


Wait!!!

Did you seriously think I would let you off that easy? I remembered that I have to add this: Kelsey is my faithful sidekick in yard work. She roams the yard while I work. When we are out of the gate, I put a leash on her, but don't actually hold it. As long as the leash is in place she stays near me. As soon as it's off, she is gone baby gone.

Well, last summer after our farmer behind us plowed up his field, we had a rodent problem. I would be weeding the flower bed, see something small and furry and begin to shriek, "Kelsey get it!" And she would. And it would be dead. And I would be glad.

The end.

For real.

Why are you still reading?

Kids Kamp

Bookworm leaves for Kids Kamp today. The girls decided to practice camping last Friday night. They were determined they were going to sleep in the "back back yard." Translation: outside the fence.

Now normally, I would have said fine, no big deal. However, a few weeks ago a coyote came onto my neighbors back porch and snatched their Maltese right in front of them. It was late at night, they had let the pooch out to potty, and my neighbor had the porch light on, standing just inside her french door, watching her. Can you imagine her horror when Cotton ran up on the porch, ready to come in, and a coyote dashed up on the porch, snatched her and ran off? That is just a little too bold, even for a sturdy country girl like me. So, I insisted they sleep inside the fence.


But, back to the subject: Kids Kamp. Bookworm is very excited. So am I. But, of course I'm nervous for her. Our church is fairly large, but we only have three 3rd grade girls. And, only one other 3rd grade girl is going. She and Bookworm aren't that close, plus the other girl's mother informed me, "I'm having Chloe take a friend, so she will have someone to play with at camp." I had just verbalized that I was really glad Chloe was going so Bookworm would have a kid her own age to play with. I was stunned into silence at that statement. I'm sure she didn't mean it rude. It was actually smart. Why the heck didn't I think to have my kid invite a friend to go with her? Duh.
I'm sure she is going to do just fine. I always loved camp. And I grew up in a very small church, where I was basically the only kid who attended regularly, and I still loved it. Of course, Bookworm isn't as assertive as me. She's not shy, but she also isn't the kind to just run up to a group of kids and join in a game that she thinks looks fun. Even at our own VBS I had to instruct her to go up to the rec youth worker and tap her on the shoulder and ask if she could play the game of keep away that had started in the gym when our craft was finished WAY too early for them to go to their next station. Bookworm was just too nervous to go up and join in without being specifically invited.


So, obviously I'm going to miss her and fret over whether she's having fun for the next 4 days. She returns Thursday evening. My dog Kelsey is sure going to miss her. I'm sure she'll be fretting over where she is when the rest of the pack is at home where it belongs. Kelsey is just a worrier that way.


I can tell you another thing. This little goofball is definitely going to miss her sister. They really are best friends. They spend every minute of every day together in the summer. In fact, they've spent so much time together lately that they are starting to bicker all the time. I think I'm going to put them in separate rooms. That way, they can at least have their sleep time apart, and have their own space to go to when they need alone time. Not that Popcorn ever needs alone time. Seriously, this kid is going to REALLY miss her sister.

So am I.

Winter Fun

As many of you know, we had an ice storm a few weeks ago. Bookworm and I built this seal. You see, it wasn't snow, just inches and inches of ice with a little snow peppered in here and there. The day it started to thaw, we worked quickly to form this little cutie. And for anyone who doesn't remember, Bookworm hates the sun in her eyes, so we settled for a closed eye shot to document her creation.
Kelsey was put to work. I had the girls hold one leash and I lead her with the other and she easily pulled them on the ice. This shot is on an old box, but we ended up using a laundry basket and it seemed to work the very best. And, for any animal rights activists, we did this just a few times because I was afraid it would hurt her neck. I'm totally considering a harness for next year. The dog really didn't seem to mind as long as she was pleasing me, and the kids loved it!
Of course, the puppy tended to get in the way. I scolded her twice for getting in the way, and the third time I scolded her, Kelsey took discipline into her own hands. Holly stayed out of the way after that!
Believe it or not, the pool floaty was the best sled we had. Of course we didn't have a sled, so we were making do with whatever we could find. Unfortunately the floaty only lasted about 30 minutes before it popped. You'd expect more from a dollar store floaty!
Yep, Holly stayed out of our sled dog's way....But she still ran around like a maniac the rest of the time....And most of that time she had Popcorn's stocking cap in her mouth!

Holly update: She is not house trained. She stays outside. She does come in the garage to eat, so I can be sure she gets to eat. She is actually well mannered. She sits politely while you scoop her food, and then doesn't actually eat until you scratch her, then tell her to eat. Then, when she's done eating, she sits at your feet with her head cocked to the side, waiting expectantly for her scratch behind the ears! Yep, she's turned out better, so far, than I expected. I think having an older dog who is well mannered helps. Also, it helps that we refuse to pet her if she's running and jumping all over the place. So, all in all, she's pretty good for a bird dog. But, she does have that unfortunate "bird dog" smell. Oh well, I guess I can't have everything!Holly showing her good manners while she waits to be let out of the garage.

Kelsey, wondering why anyone would be even remotely interested in a pesky puppy when she is obviously more trustworthy and better mannered! Quite frankly, she's disgusted by the whole thing.