Wednesday, August 15, 2012

STILL NO POOP

Day five and still no poop from Perfect Pup.  AND she's just a tad bit spoiled from all the near death attention she's had for the last week.  Normal behavior for her is to jump up and run to the door when she has to water and/or fertilize the lawn.  I'm on permanent potty patrol since Teenage Girl decided PP is too big to fit in a purse therefore not near as cute as her future pup will be and has since unclaimed her as her property.  How does that work exactly?  I'd like to do an "unclaim" (or two) of my own.

I'm on high alert for poop n scoop and ready to run to the door at the hint of a squat and since it's fairly likely it could be of the runny-messy variety CODE ORANGE is in effect until further notice.

SO:

7-11am  Going out every half hour.

11-2pm  Running and dancing her way to the door every 20 minutes.

2:15pm  I notice she is very interested in one particular spot near the road.

2:22pm  Needs to go out again, runs straight to "the spot".

2:32pm  Can't wait any longer to get out the door, runs straight to THE SPOT, this time I follow . . . Crap! Dead bird . . . get a paper towel and pick up dead bird and throw it across the road.

2:40  Wants to go out again and since she didn't go pee the last two times she was out, I take her.  Dashes straight to The Spot.  NO BIRD, runs ACROSS THE ROAD, damn I'm brilliant! I run after her and pick her up, take her inside and get another paper towel, go back out by myself and take the damn freaking dead bird to the trash can this time.

3:04pm  Realizing she still hasn't peed now for over an hour so out we go AGAIN!  PEES AND RUNS ACROSS THE ROAD AND SNIFFS THE SPOT until I fetch her and take her back inside.

3:10  If I don't look at you, I can't hear you whine.

3:17  Dancing doesn't get me running to the door either.

3:25  Uh nope.

3:38 EMERGENCY this could be IT, she has to get outside NOW!!  BOLTS across the street, buries her nose and comes up with gravel and a stray bit of feather fuzz sticking to it before I can drag her back to the yard.   Pulling a shovel out of the back of my truck I head across the road and scoop out the dirt the damn freaking bird touched and carry it to the trash can.  In the meantime not so Perfect Pup is right back to the ORIGINAL SPOT the dead bird started out at.  SO I DIG A SWIMMING POOL WHERE THE DEAD BIRD MORE THEN LIKELY DREW IT'S LAST BREATH AND FED MULTITUDES OF ANTS AND OTHER CARCASS EATING BUGS AND TOSSED EVERY LAST BIT INTO THE TRASH CAN!!!!

.............................LIKE A BOSS!!!!!!!.........................

oh yea . . . at about 4pm the teenagers yelled "MMMOOOOMMM THE DOG JUST POOPED IN THE HALLWAY"!!!!!

Saturday, August 11, 2012

PITIFUL POOCH

Perfect Pup was her usual perky/stare at your food while you eat, ornery/stealing all the socks and hiding them under my bed, overly energetic/throwing her toys to herself, then catching them, happy/dancing in front of you as you try to get to the phone/bathroom/refrigerator, obnoxious self on Saturday but Sunday she sniffed her food, pooped once then puked for three days.

Two needle sticks for fluids, three shots and 3 butt prods, (not by me - I leave butt prodding to the professionals) a couple of Kleenexes (something in my eye) and two hours later; Vet-1 says Perfect Pup is a VERY sick girl, sends us home to no food or water and an appointment for noon tomorrow (I admit I snuck a snack or 2 and had a lil nip). 

                 PITIFUL POOCH  :(
Next Day:  Vet-Nurse warns Vet-2, as she is about to give needle stick number 6, to protect her ears.  Vet-2 gets a sudden jolt of recognition on her face and asks "were you at the other end of the hall yesterday?".  She remembered Perfect Pup's excellent vocal resonance and glass shattering ability from the other end of the building!  It occurs to me Vet-1 has the day off because she is deaf and needs to recover some of those ear hairs that fall over when an air horn aimed at your collar bone, goes off.  But Perfect Pup is feeling much better and doesn't much resemble Feeble Pup from yesterday and is slightly more hydrated due to the 2 pouches of fluid from 24 hours before and a bunch of antibiotics (the butt prodding had no noticeable affect).  She lets go only one shrill blast of her wind instrument as the needle comes out.  I pick her up and she snuggles into my shoulder then milks it for all it's worth with pitiful little whimpers.  As a reward she gets to have 1/4 cup of water followed by another one in half and hour.  If all goes well she can try some rice and rinsed burger at 5pm.  

7pm:  Success!!!
Perfect Pup is ever so slightly obnoxious as she stares down every cheese cracker that goes from the box to the mouth of the annoyed Teenage Girl who sits on MY COUCH! to eat CRUMBLY ORANGE! snacks (but that's another story).   


Friday, August 10, 2012

ONCE BITTEN TWICE SHY BABE

Not really bit.  STUNG by a honeybee!  OUCHY.  Intense, burny, owee, jump in the pool PAIN!  And I'm a big-girl who has gone through childbirth, without meds and everything, but that shizz hurt!  So I jumped in the pool.  Luckily there WAS a pool right there for me to jump into otherwise I would have probably cried bawl-baby tears.  Seriously I don't whimp-out very often but damn, that pool was in the right place at the right time, thank you baby Jesus.

Honeybee flew right up my shorts (long shorts or this would be an entirely different story as in x-rated because I wouldn't hesitate to rip them suckers off to get at that perv bee).  Bee dead, me in pool, teenagers spared bleeding eyes from seeing my tush, pain slowly subsides to a tolerable degree to drive myself and the teens home.  After awhile I decided I needed some sympathy so I showed aforementioned teens my boo-boo.  Upon realizing they are indeed compassionate young humans, I couldn't help smiling to myself and thinking "awe, they get that from me"; they went grocery shopping and fixed dinner :D  I just went on to bed, got cold, then hot, then cold again and tossed and turned all night.

That's my right leg inner thigh.  I think my daughter took this picture, pretty sure my left leg is doing a lame burlesque kick right on the front porch (sorry, man on the bicycle) just so she could get a good enough angle.  This picture doesn't really show the extent of the swelling and redness, or the heat and pain of course but it does give you an idea of what made me decide that Benadryl was my friend.  Slept the better part of two days, think I had a fever, most def had some strange dreams.  Better now and the kids are back to their normally rebellious, "what's for dinner?", eye rolling, selves.  And I still want bees in my garden but NOT in my pants, thank-you very much!