I guess I am teaching something

During the snow storm, I discovered that I had trolls. Sounds like some sort of disease, I know. I was talking with my big sister about her blogs (actually she has two blogs, but only one was under attack so to speak.) She had trolls. Someone had come to her site and started going back through the posts writing basically mean stuff. My sister is a researcher at heart. So, she began trying to figure out from where the trolls came. Lo and behold, they came from the last blog post on my old blog that said "Gone."

Four women (I swear they might have made up names) posted. ALL posted mean stuff about me. In fact, one had started her own blog and the only post was a picture of me saying how I tried to steal her husband away...Yeah, cause in addition to every OTHER reason that would never happen, some time during the crapfest 2010 of Sabrina's life, I was out looking for a MAN. sigh.

At any rate, I deleted my one post. My sister then did a post on "Trolls." It was awesome. Part of the awesomeness was due to the fact that the troll is really an idiot. Sis's blog is clearly about developing self awareness and thinking about how she has messed up parenting in the past, and she's learning from it. Perhaps she uses too many big words cause it is obvious the troll, she didn't understand a bit.

Under comments, my sister had given me a shout out because some newspaper had done a poll, and I was runner-up for best teacher in the district. Sure it is a really small district, and sure, I was runner-up to a 1st year 4th grade teacher at one of 5 elementary schools in the district, and yes, it is very likely only 5 people voted. But it was sweet of my sister. The troll wrote a mean comment to the effect, I shouldn't be allowed to teach. That is A LOT of venom to have inside.

A week ago, one of the women sent me a facebook message "Hi." That's it. Nothing else. I ignored it, but it seems like a lot of energy to put into someone when I don't recognize ANY of their names or anything. Who are they???? I was starting to feel a little down. But THEN, one of my editors-in-chief let me see her college essay. It made me cry. She let me attach it. (Mostly because she knows only 5 people read the blog. Hooray for censorship and fear of the machine.) Any way - here you go.

An Unforgettable Character

Perkins: Like you’re mom but worse. She stands 5’4” in her pink sparkly designer Christian Louboutin stiletto heels—a gift from our journalism class last year as a token of our appreciation. Everything about her is asymmetrical; it is no surprise when she stands with her left hand extended, her right hip cocked, with a semi-fisted hand saying, “This is Perkins,” circling that fist with her right hand through at least three revolutions, she continues, “and this is the world…!” All the things my mom tried to teach me are acted out on the journalism stage every day of high school. The starring role is played by Ms. Elizabeth Perkins, my journalism advisor.

Lesson #1: Dress to impress. “Don’t dress like you are going to work on a street corner.” When dealing with inappropriate dress choices, most teachers avoid confrontation by passing the student on to the administration. Not Perkins. She deals directly with each of us, and we are quick to learn what is and is not appropriate attire for school. Because of Perkins, I am increasingly aware of the small range of appropriate clothing in dress—especially when I am relating to teachers or students as yearbook editor-in-chief. She takes her position seriously and demonstrates her self-respect with a flair for fashion by playing the “Diva” role with confidence and aplomb.

Lesson #2: “Do as I say, not as I do.” Perkins never sets herself up as a perfect example—quite the opposite. She always admits when she is at fault and actually wants us to do a better job in respecting authority. Last week, during the school mandatory lockdown drill, Perkins opted to send students out to take pictures of the event. Once again yearbook “is more important than pseudo student safety.” Unfortunately our school resource officer did not agree. He captured Perkins and Company and officiated at our in-class criminal lockdown lasting three days. By letting us in on her escapades, we become comrades in crime with a worthy cause of surviving the school day and publishing our annual yearbook, The Highlander.

Lesson #3: Be good humans. “If there is one thing I want to teach you in this class, it’s how to be good humans.” Last month we had an incident with stolen money from the yearbook fund. Perkins appealed to our sense of humanity and justice by asking for our help. Because she believed and trusted in us, we were successful to use our student web of contacts to find the thief. As she teaches us to be good humans, she models it by standing up for the staff. Recently, an anonymous group of girls created a Twitter account to slander several of us on the staff. Not only was she determined to find these “mean girls”, she was “out for blood.” Her lasting advice about our emerging humanity always mentions the necessity to, “bring each other up with your words, not tear each other down.”

Whether Perkins is delivering a light message on fashion, or a serious message on what it means to be human, the thing that I’m going to remember forever is the delivery itself. She preaches her message with the humorous characterization of a Diva mixed with the high drama of a philosopher. Her obvious lessons are represented by the quotations above, but it is the subliminal undercurrents that I will take with me to college. I want to define my own character by taking risks for the people I lead; laugh not only at others but myself; and most importantly, create a character for my life story who makes people want to be better. Underneath all the bravado, Perkins lets herself be vulnerable so that her students rise up and help her. Her leadership style allows us to feel valuable and needed as we develop mutual empathy. Whether it’s dealing with my college roommate, my professors, or future boyfriends, I know on some level, I will be modeling Perkins, or as she is otherwise known, “The Dallas Diva.”

Goodbye 2010

Since I haven't blogged since Dec 2, I think we can safely say...I've been busy? Nothing noteworthy has been going on? My life is a total grind? Yes, yes, yes.

I made an attempt to blog midway through the month, but it never made it past the draft phase and it is very obvious that I was in a funk.

In the meantime, a friend brought some tamales for me to eat which Sabrina decided she had to eat. So she did. Last Monday. Thursday at about 11am it started working its way out of her body. Not pretty.

Today, Friday, 1pm...they are STILL working their way through her body. I would say it serves her right, but I am suffering right along with her courtesy of the cleanup required.

She looks soooo sad.

Oh, Craig's List how you lure me...

My BFF has had an affair with Craig's list for quite some time. She is very good at finding the deals AND selling things that need to move out of her home. In fact, last year when I moved she posted free boxes for me which disappeared immediately.

This year when I began my "I must sell things" campaign, BFF was there to help me again, posting things for me so I only had to deal with the "where to meet" portion of the deal.

Then I got independent and started posting my own stuff. It is great. I am a selling maniac.

Including these shoes -

They are cute. I thought they would go lickety split.

Today, I got this email: "Are they still available? I would pay you a $100 if I could rub and kiss your feet, also. Let me know."

That's two laser therapies for Sabrina...I'm thinking about it.

But beyond the weirdness of this particular message, I have to say. I love selling all sorts of stuff without the pain of a garage sale. It is awesome.

Children

My BF and I were discussing how children really can messing up ones ability to plan, a day, a week, an evening. Those with children know how kids get sick, hurt themselves, whatever and suddenly your plans are scrapped.

She paused a moment and said, well, you know what I mean.

Yes, I do.

I was nodding as I watched Sabrina eat her breakfast. Let me amend that. I watched over her food as I kept calling her back to eat breakfast. If I wandered off, Buddy would eat her breakfast. I don't need him to eat a can of pumpkin in the morning. I need her to. And, I need her to FREAKING EAT. Sigh. So, I knew I was about to be late for school. I had told the girls I would be there at 7:15. And I would have been if Sabrina had been cooperating.

Then, about 15 minutes later, I looked down and realized that I had pumpkin across the bottom of my skirt. (I know what you are thinking, no, it was actual pumpkin.) Sabrina eats like a two year old and she gets food all over the stinkin' place, including as it turns out my skirt when she decides to rub against me instead of finishing her food. Sigh.

Expect More....Poop

I've decided this is the theme of my life right now. Please note, these are both recent droppings. Then she sat down to check out the situation. The fluff all around her? Those are pieces of the big comfy chair that I love and Buddy is destroying. I'm trying not to hate him for it. Can you tell on her tail where it has a funky bend? It is actually farther out than it used to be...Maybe that is how far along her tail has healed? She still can't feel when I touch it, but maybe the insides are healing....

Numbers

Let's see what Sabrina goes through in 30 days

45 Cans of Pumpkin

60 cans of dog food

5 bags of greenie pill holders

12 chicken breasts

4 bags of cranberries

and, wait for it...

315 pills

Now I have to go and clean.

HER TAIL MOVED

It's been 50 days since Sabrina had her stroke.

I started giving up hope a couple of weeks ago. She is walking again which is fantastic, but she has no control over her bladder or bowels. I spend a lot of time cleaning up the messes she leaves behind.

I had begun to cry (often), trying to accept putting Sabrina down, and just in general being utterly depressed and sad.

As a side note, I don't know how people survive having small children in the house. My entire world has shrunk down to the size of my living room. The size of my plastic covered living room.

I have been going home every day during 3rd period to "express" Sabrina's bladder. She has no sensation so she doesn't know when she needs to pee, I literally have to squeeze her bladder to make her pee. There will never be photos of that maneuver, trust me.

She doesn't know when she has to poop so she just does it as she walks. Yeah, you can see the need for plastic. (Although please note that she can still manage to find a way to get her butt on the ONE SPOT that is uncovered.)

Occasionally I have let her get on the big comfy chair with me (layer of plastic, blanket, then us) ...well, until she pees on me.

She walks pretty well now. Still a little like a one year old... all wiggly and some times surprised when her butt shows up beside her head, but we can walk almost 2 miles now. THAT is really good.

Buddy is doing pretty well through all of this. He gets a little jealous, so he can't stand it when I cave and let Sabrina on the chair. Little me sandwich. (I was in my little pjs so I put a photoshop skirt on me : )

And the truth has come out...turns out, Buddy is the one eating on the red chair (that's why there is plastic around the arms.) Buddy is the one that eats blankets etc. He is the one causing all sorts of trouble. Guess he didn't think that when he was the only one allowed to run free if he was bad, he wouldn't be able to hide behind the "it wasn't me, it was her" defense.

Buddy constantly wants to play with her, and she does a little but she does still snap at him when he catches her by surprise.

At any rate, we hang out when I'm not making their special dinners or cleaning up after the messes or trying to make her potty or doing the laundry. I snuggle with her as much as possible because I'm worried and I don't know how long she will be around. I love her with all my heart, but I know that I can't keep this up forever. It is really, really hard.

And I have been taking lots and lots of pictures. Ode to Sabrina, if you will.

Two days ago, I came home 3rd to find a MESS, so I threw the dogs outside because I didn't have time to clean and headed back to school. The dog hater started calling an hour later and called 6 times in two hours. I finally had to start hanging up on her. She then sent me a nasty email using my worries about Sabrina (which I wish I hadn't blurted out) against me, you know ...if you can't take care of your dogs you should find someone else to do so. BITCH.

It just has all been throwing me into a total depression.

BUT. Last night. She stood up, and her tail was sticking STRAIGHT OUT. (No, I didn't manage to get a picture, I know, I know.) This may not sound like much, but trust me...it is something. AND this morning she was standing still, but I could see the top part of her tail moving...AAUUGGGHHHHHH I am so excited.

My World

Ok, so we have had to make some modifications. First, the outside is pretty much the same. The backyard had turned into a total disaster, so we've been outside a lot. I weeded the snot out the garden areas. I added my outdoor art (finally) and I finally put my fountain up.

The living room is now covered in tarp, and I have plastic on half the furniture because Sabrina now likes to "shake" when she gets up. I decided it would be a good idea to protect what I could.

The laundry room has been a disaster. It has n't mattered too much because I do laundry about once every 3 weeks. Since I'm now doing laundry about twice a day, I decided things needed to be cleaned up.

I cleaned the kitchen up. And I'm trying to be organized as I keep up with feeding everybody, pills galore and cleaning. I went to the grocery store and actually bought healthy food. My plan is to cook ahead and have meals ready to go...we'll see how that works out.

Please note card from BFF. She sent grocery bags (since I go through a LOT of them now that I am cleaning up after a lot of poopy animals.), money (for the Sabrina's bills may actually kill me fund - so sweet and loving to know how worried and scared I am about them all) and a card that is titled "The SChitt family tree" and it lists the shits. Since my new world is full of it, she thought it appropriate. I laughed till I cried. Cause really the card/package was full of love, and it made me feel less scared and alone.

It's important to be able to laugh, right? right?

Tuesday was my first day back at my house with both dogs and Cat. It was a bit chaotic. First, Cat may not be visible often, but I tell you what the boy shows up for breakfast.

Sadly, breakfast for Cat must start with his anti-acid medicine. He hates that. And he is shitty about it. As in, it is a big ole fight to get him to take the meds. And then he gets his new and improved, special wet smelly food for old cats food.

Sabrina then gets her many pills mixed up with peanut butter before being fed her super yummy wet dog food mixed with pumpkin.

I turn to Buddy and fill his dish with the 2 cups of dry food that he's always gotten.

If I could have filmed the expression on his face as he looked at me like, "Seriously, are you kidding me? This is what I get? I stay healthy, do what you ask? Always a good dog, and I get this crap?!?!?!?!

Poor thing.

************************************************************************************

Background: the kitchen has been set up as Sabrina's new hang out. I have an area rug cut to fit, then a tarp laid out, then blankets on top. Then there is a tarp over most of the living area so that it is covered on the way out the door.

This morning Sabrina was in a very sassy mood. She was standing in the living room barking in a fierce manner to let me know she was not pleased with her present circumstances. As she barked, she bounced with ears flapping in the wind.

I finally got Sabrina and Buddy outside. I turned around to see that with each bounce she made, she pooped. I have a picture. I'll upload it soon. It was big poop. So, as I cleaned up, both Sabrina and Buddy began to let me know they didn't want to be outside anymore.

I let them in, and sure enough, she pooped outside too.

So, when I came back home at 10 to let her out and "express" her bladder (Yeah, I have to help her pee every time) I tried to use the sprayer on the house. The water wasn't coming out, and then it started to spray out the sides, and I swear I turned it off and then turned it towards me so that the water spraying out the side wouldn't hit me...you see where this is going don't you? Yup, I finally got the sprayer loose, and it popped off and all the water that had built up pressure sprayed me. Everything was soaked; dress, shoes, skivvy's. All of it.

I love Sabrina's vet

I rushed Sabrina to the Katy Trail Vet's office on August 19th. She actually saw Dr. Lamping. He sends us on to the Referral Surgery Center. They tell me that it is either a herniated disc or a stroke (embolism in the spine) and that up front I need to be prepared to spend X number of dollars, and, oh, by the way, we're gonna need your credit card right now.

As it turns out, I was busy getting sick as a dog that night, and I continued to be deathly ill for another week. Couldn't actually afford a doctor because I was busy racking up the bills for Sabrina.

They released her the following Wednesday. Some Vet I had never met before or spoken with did the check out. She in no way prepared me to take home a totally incontinent dog.

After a couple of weeks of nothing getting better, in fact, Sabrina got a UTI and had to take antibiotics which, some of you may know, causes diarreah. Yeah, that was no fun.

So, Dr. Murray, who is the main Vet at Katy Trail has called me almost EVERY SINGLE DAY to check on her. She is the one that suggested canned pumpkin to help with the diarreah.

By the way, never heard from the referral surgery center again.

Three weeks after the stroke, Dr. Murray tells me that she has contacted a neurologist about Sabrina and that she's worried if we don't get her bladder emptied and shrunk, she'll always be incontinent even if she gets her nerve cells back. That if we put a catheter in for the weekend, we can keep her bladder totally empty and shrink it up. And yes, it will cost X and where is your credit card.

So, the next day I get Sabrina to the Specialty Vet place that has the neurologist that is even farther away than the last place. I introduce her to one of the vets, go through the history etc. I don't speak with a vet Saturday (even though I spent 2 hours with Sabrina), the vet that calls Sunday says yes, she has a catheter in. Monday, I get a call from a receptionist telling to show up between 4 and 4:14pm to check her out.

I show up. Stand around and wait for 30 minutes before some semi goth tech guy with huge holes in his ears and a stupid little gotee. He has never dealt with Sabrina before, so he can't answer any of my questions. I asked him if she still had a bladder infection and his answer was "She had a catheter in all weekend." I'm sorry, I don't even know what that answer means.

Yes, I was totally annoyed. In fact, at one point he tells me, "Really, you just gave her bladder a break for the weekend." If I didn't feel like a knew better I would have absolutely had a tizzy. I just paid HOW much???? To just give her bladder a break for the weekend??? Then they had me schedule a check-up in six weeks.

Dr. Murray called the next day, because she is the BEST VET EVER. She said she wanted to see Sabrina that afternoon if possible. How awesome is she? So, after seeing her she prescribed something to help with the diarreah. She also told me she had called the last place to talk to an actual vet.

Today she called to let me know that Sabrina does still have the bladder infection. So we have upped the antibiotics, upped the pumpkin, I'm now on a search for Cranberries to feed her twice a day and she has one medicine from the specialty vet.

So, for another six weeks we have the waiting game to see if there is any improvement.

Bailey's may save my life

Ok, I will step back.

The day that I "moved" into Mom and Dad's, if you recall, I was sick as a dog. So, I get all of the blankets etc that I could find, plus my clothes, plus Sabrina's kennel and Buddy and drive to their house.

I lay down with great dramatics, and say, "I must rest before picking up Sabrina."

Dad, who happened to be home, said, "Well I need to go to Sprouts before you leave."

He gets home. Does he have fruit? vegetables? meat? fish? No. He had 14 bottles of wine and a bottle of Baileys. Yes, sir. I like the way you think. This is exactly how we will get through this.

So, I head off to pick up Sabrina. As a side note, although you might imagine that when you pay THOUSANDS of dollars for pet care that you would get a higher level of service and interest... you would be wrong. Indeed the vet that "checked Sabrina out" actually didn't know anything. And, gave me even less information. Just sent me on my way.

Each evening, after dinner, Dad would get up get the Bailey's and bring us glasses. We went through the first bottle within 3 days. I looked at Dad with horror. "But, look how well we've been getting along I said. It has to be the Bailey's."

"Good point," Dad said. So, each time we got close to running out, he'd go buy more. Yeah, we went through a good bit.

As it turns out, I have Bailey's at home. That, as they say, is a very good thing.

Memory Lane

Wow. So, open house was Monday night. I thought I would go through my last 5 years of posts and read about past open houses. Do you know what I found? Practically nothing I tell you. Practically nothing. Do you want to know why? Because open house is boring. I'm not boring. I am sweetly eccentric and charmingly odd, but open house itself? boring. Same crap that I say every year. Parents staring at me. Me getting slightly nervous about talking.

At any rate, Open house was Tuesday after Memorial Day. Whoop.

In the meantime, after 3 weeks at my parents house I have gotten really, shockingly used to having a Bailey's every night.

Sabrina goes to the neurologist tomorrow, and she's either going to stay for a week as they work to get her bladder issues under control or we are going to have to give up. She can't live the rest of her life in the kitchen. It's just not ok.

Buddy, Cat and I will move home Saturday. I'm still praying that she is ok. She can walk again. She knows when she has to go to the bathroom and she lets me know, so I know she is getting better. We just have to get over the final hump!!

It's a 5 loads of laundry day

Sabrina is now able to get up and down without help. It's not always pretty, but she can do it. We've taken walks a couple of times (around the block mostly, and she starts out pretty fast, but she usually slows down to a normal human rate (which she has never walked before) by the end of the walk.)

We went back to her regular vet on Tuesday. That was a total comedy of errors. I was looking cute with a skirt and jacket. Mom got in the car first (because taking her to the vet is now a two man job) to block off the front of the car so she would be forced to stay on the plastic tarp in case of accidents. Little did I know that as I was getting her in the car accidents had already begun. So, I hollar out to mom to get some tissues.

She runs back in the house, grabs tissues. Comes back out I clean up Sabrina and realize that I have poop down my skirt. I send mom back in with the poop and a request for jeans.

We finally got on the road with my sweet poopy girl. We could smell things getting worse in the back as we got farther down the road. Yeah, we found where she dropped it when we got to the vet's. It was a really good time.

The vet put her on Xanax to help her relax and not be all freaked out all the time (which is helping) and something for the urinary infection (which explains why she cried every time I tried to help her pee and lurched to snap at me.)

Things have actually been rolling along. Today, not so much rolling as just totally and complete day of constant pooping. If the last 3 hours are anything to go by, I don't know how Mom and Dad survived the day. I am so tired. I have done two loads of laundry since I got home and there is another load waiting to be started.

Poor Sabrina. I have washed her backside down several times. Oh, the smells are quite horrible too.

I recently made a comparison that Sabrina has become like a two year old child without a diaper on. You are trying to keep your eye out in case of pooping and peeing and God forbid if she starts playing in it, stepping in it, etc. Well, today it smells like the home of a two year old with a lot of poopy diapers laying around, if you know what I mean.

One more day of the week to survive, and then it is a three day weekend. I might relish it more if I didn't know my future holds a lot of cleaning, and pooping and peeing. sigh.

The vet has made me hopeful that we can get everything under control. I am praying with everything inside of me that we can get it worked out to the point that she can go 8 hours a day alone. Cause as grateful as I am that Mom and Dad are helping and letting me sleep on the couch, I am seriously missing my own bed, and home and stuff.

In case you were wondering

the last 7 days have been a total beating. So, it all began last Thursday. Wait. Back up. Actually, to a certain extent, it all began last Monday. Because that was the day of convocation.

Sunday night my friend PR spent the night. She lives out in Keller and since she is in charge of the big first day of return to school she frets that traffic will be all messed up and cause her to be late, so we have a slumber party. It's a tradition cause we've done it 3 times now. At any rate, we went to a cool restaurant in South Oak Cliff where some slutty girl at the bar in a tight pink dress turned away from the bar to pick up something that fell, spread her legs as she leaned down and flashed me. Happy town. Yes. I am totally and completely scarred.

After that we looked at houses in South Oak Cliff because they are cool and it's what we like to do.

First day of school was fine. New principal seems nice enough. My room still wasn't cleaned up from construction, and as it turns out, they hadn't actually finished working in my room, so I'd clean, and they'd mess up. It was a really good time the first three days.

At any rate, I had the editors coming to work while I was in meetings. It really wasn't too horrible.

Thursday I got home after school and Buddy greeted me at the door, but Sabrina was no where in sight. So I started up the stairs looking for her. I heard something in the bathroom. At first, I thought that she was hooked on something or had gotten a paw stuck, but then I realized that she was sitting straight up with her back paws sticking straight out. She was shaking but not moving. FREAK OUT.

I managed to get her downstairs and out the door. It was almost 5 when we got to the vet who basically said whatever was wrong was beyond what he could do but he called the Surgery Center of Dallas (just go ahead and imagine a BIG OLE Chi ching here.) Yes, they could have someone there by 7pm to meet us, so Sabrina and I set off up the tollroad.

The Surgery Center began the conversation saying that it was either a stroke or a herniated disk - was I prepared to spend thousands of dollars. I'm sitting in front of my dog who is looking at me scared and shaking totally cognizant with eyes begging me to make her better. So, I handed over the credit card.

As it turns out she had a stroke. They called later that night to say that there was no point of pain and the scans showed nothing ergo it was a stroke. In the meantime, my throat hurt and I didn't feel that great. By Friday I felt worse. I went to see Sabrina on Friday and sat in the kennel (full size, so room for both of us) with her for about an hour just loving on her. Lots of dogs, lots of noise.

Saturday she was able to get up (with help) and walk (with help) to a room where we sat for about 2 hours. While I was with her she peed about 4 different times all over the blanket. Not a good sign. Sunday, the vet called and said the good news was she is moving better and regaining strength but that she had lost control of her bladder and she could feel no pain in her tail.

Oh, and Saturday and Sunday I spent in bed. Sleeping. And feeling like crap. That's right, once again, I've caught the plague.

Monday morning, first day of school. All I want to do is curl in the fetal position. Not to be. So, I throw on clothes and head off. The day goes ok. Most of the kids I know. The yearbook staff should be good. I have photojournalism 7th period and Journalism 1 8th which totally sucks, but it turns out my J1 class is 10 girls ....we'll do just fine.

At any rate, Monday's phone call from the vet is to ask me if I want to do an MR, he had mentioned it the day before too, but what I basically kept hearing is that it probably won't tell us anything, but it might tell us if she has cancer???what??? but it is really academic. OK, how much is this academic MR? $2,000. Uh, that's a no ghostrider. Holy cow.

Monday after school I went straight away to visit Sabrina. We spent about an hour and half together. Bless her heart, I'm sure she isn't sleeping well among the noise of all of dogs. She slept part of the time snuggled against my leg. First the first time since Thursday, when I left she literally struggled to get away from the technician to go with me. Nearly. Killed. Me.

So, today is Wednesday. I am still having trouble breathing. My throat hurts. I'm full of phlem, and my precious dog is about to come home. Scratch that. Actually she is about to come to my parents house. Where I am. Because once again they are determined to prove when it really comes down to it, they will be there for me. Because we don't know what Sabrina needs. I know she can't stand up on her own yet, which means if she pees, she is stuck laying in it until someone comes and helps her. I know she can walk, but she is wobbly.

So, this morning I packed up every blanket and soft thing I could find so we would have plenty of blankets. I gathered up my clothes and Buddy so that we could all join Sabrina at M and D's. They will have Sabrina duty during the day, and I'll have it at night.

I don't know how long until she can get herself up without help. I don't know how long she is going to have bladder control issues. I don't what it will take to get her back to her old self. I don't know anything.

And that is why the last 7 days have been a beating.

Sabrina and the squirrel

This is a tale that totally deserves photos, but it was so traumatic, there are none. So sorry.

Wednesday morning I get up let the dogs out and go about my business of getting dressed. I've been sick all week, so I was busy snorting salt water, gargling salt water and blowing my nose.

I see out of the corner of my eye Sabrina running in the house with something in her mouth. I thought to myself, "Huh, I wonder what toy that is," and headed out of the bathroom to follow her into the front room. There she sat proudly displaying THE DEAD SQUIRREL. AUUGGGHHH.

After getting Sabrina and Buddy out of the room, honestly, the first thing I had to do was make sure that the damn thing was dead. Then I had to figure out how to get it out of my house. I am scarred.

Now I roll through the house regularly checking for dead animals.

Back on the Farm

I had made the reservation for Sabrina to go to Canine Country Club, but I had the wrong date. So, when I called back to get her in starting Saturday, they told me they were booked, she couldn’t come until Monday. That is a problem. So, I talk to my neighbor Gene who sweetly agrees to take Sabrina to CCC Monday morning. Great, problem solved.

So, I left Sunday morning at the crack of dawn and left Sabrina in the backyard/utility room.

3:00am this morning (5am in Dallas) my phone rings. I click it to make it stop ringing. It rings again. I answer. It is my neighbor Dave. He has called to tell me that Sabrina is barking and has been barking for sometime. Uh oh.

I tell him the bad news is that I can’t do anything about it because I’m in California (hint hint it is two hours earlier), but the good news is that she is going to be boarded for two weeks, and it won’t be a problem. I will make sure that it doesn’t happen any more when I return to town.

Tragically, the conversation didn’t end there. He was very busy broadcasting, but completely unable to receive. He tells me that she barks all the time that early and that it was right by their bedroom window etc. He told me it had been especially bad this week . . . she had been boarded the week before, so I would have loved to ask him how that week had been to see his response. At any rate, he went on and on and on. It was frustrating for him because she was barking and frustrating for me because there was nothing I could do about it.

I have no doubt she was barking, and probably the morning before too since I left so early, however, she sleeps on my bed and I think I would notice 60lbs of dog leaping off the bed in the night, and she wakes up with me in the morning. I told him that I wish he had let me know sooner because I would have done something about it sooner.

In addition, I’m not sure of what time he deems acceptable for Sabrina to be barking. I’m not thinking they are early birds, and I do leave for school at about 7:00 or so during the school year. So, we may have a problem no matter what.

He calls back a little later. I’m not sure of why he called the second time, except she was still barking. He asks me at one point if I can hear her, but I couldn’t, so I’m sure that was disappointing for him. I told him (again) I couldn’t do anything about it since I wasn’t actually there. He wanted to know if my other neighbor Emily had a key, I said yes (although I wasn’t thinking she would want a 5am wake-up call). I told him again I was California and she was going to be boarded and I would solve the problem when I got back.

Then he went on this whole tangent about how he didn’t realize the problem could be solved. Really????? Then leave me alone and suck it up. He told me that they realized they had to put up with her barking during the day. (I told him I appreciated that since his dogs also barked during the day.) He told me that is why his dogs are always inside. Hmmm, how many of you have been to my house and commented on those obnoxious little dogs and their barking?????

He also said that he was so sleepy the first time he called that he couldn’t remember what I had said. Tell me about it. He probably achieved what he was really after, he woke me up and I didn’t get any more sleep either.

At any rate, I called Emily (later) and she said she had already seen Dave and listened to him rant, but that Sabrina had not disturbed her sleep.

In Sabrina’s defense, I don’t believe that she barks that much. I think she was bad Sunday morning and Monday morning. Note to self, leaving her alone for 24 hours not a good plan.

So, that should be an interesting issue to deal with when I get back. I do feel badly about the barking the last two mornings, but nothing I can do about it yet, and it is really hard to feel too bad since more than once I haven't been able to go to sleep because of his yappy little dogs.

Saaavvveee meeeeee

MB requested new photos. Apparently the war wound from walking the hellion wasn't doing it for her. So, this is what creates me when I get home. She bounces and peers out the window until I cave and open the door. Rotten punk.