Have You Ever Loaded a 110 lb Lab, post surgery, Out of a Van By Yourself?

Rusty, my yellow lab, has bad hips. It’s common in pure bred labs. He got to the point where he was lifting his right, rear leg when he walked. We assumed his right hip was finally getting the best of him so we took him to a surgeon for assessment. To our surprise the surgeon told us it wasn’t his hips that were causing him discomfort. It was his knee! He said his hips should last his whole life. The knee on the other hand, would not. To our complete astonishment he said that he had an opening THE NEXT DAY! What surgeon has an opening that soon? It took us a month to get the appointment! We were thinking we could coast through the holidays before doing anything.

NOPE.

Rusty stayed over night and had the surgery the following morning. It took over FOUR HOURS!!!! I was going insane until they called. But I finally got the call and the next day I went to pick him up at the vet.

Now the problem with having a lab that weighs more than both your children combined, is lifting him. It took three of us to load him into the van. We all had beads of sweat on our foreheads after the event. In the time it took me to close his door, and return to my door, he moved from the middle seat to the back seat of the van! ARGH!!!!!!

F#$%! How in the hell am I going to get him out of the back seat all by myself when I get home? It was hard enough loading him when I had help! Crap. This sucks. The whole drive home he cried, which only made me more anxious for what would unfurl when I arrived at the house.

When the time finally came, I pulled up to the house. Luckily my husband drove his car to work so I was able to pull into the garage where the ground was flat and I wouldn’t have to do this on a grade. I finally decide I would find (or make) a ramp for Rusty. I opened the back door to the van and went to locate the materials I needed for the ramp. When I returned, to my dismay, Rusty had let himself out of the van! I panicked, but felt some relief. I immediately checked his leg and all was well.

Thank God!

It’s been a week and he is doing much better. He actually fights with the pit bull a little. We have to watch them closely, but he’s putting pressure on it and doing much better.

All That Glitters Isn’t Gold

So, I was preparing the house for Christmas and I came to the stockings. I noticed one of the stockings did not have a name printed on it. I grabbed my glue glitter pen and proceeded to inscribe the stocking. I finished the first letter and then the pen became blocked. I used a pin to try to extract the blockage. It did not work. I pushed harder and harder on the end of the pen, hoping the pressure would build and take out the hardened glue. Nothing. So I moved on to plan “B.”

Plan B involved going outside. I know how clumpsy I am and I’ve learned from my mistakes. I opened the sliding glass door and walked onto the deck. I closed the sliding glass door 95% of the way. I walked to the end of the deck and aimed the pen at the back yard. I proceeded to smash the pen with the heel of my shoe. To my dismay, the pen performed a 180 degree turn and aimed directly at the 5% open door! Holy crap!

I walked inside to survey the damage. There was glitter on the table, on the chairs, in the grout in the tile. Glitter was on the light above the table, the walls, the ceiling, and the dog! Glitter glue dries rather quickly. What we were unable to wipe up in less than 5 minutes had to be forced off using razor blazes. We did not actually discover the glue on the ceiling until hours later. At that point we had to pull out the electric sander, remove the glue, patch the spots and repaint the ceiling. I plan to repaint the kitchen wall today, as we wiped a little too hard on that wall!

One little “Martha Stewart” touch to my holiday decorating cost me countless hours of blood, sweat and tears! Not to mention it gave my husband a story to retell in front of all of our friends. Ugh! That has to be the worst part of the whole experience. I hate giving him any excuse to rattle me!

Happy Holidays. Beware the glitter…

Kids Say the Funniest Things…

I had my daughter in the car and we were listening to a homemade CD while driving to karate class. One of my favorite songs came on — Dusty Springfield’s Son of a Preacher Man. I was surprised to hear a little voice singing along to it in the background. She knew most of the lyrics, but when it came to the chorus I almost wrecked the car when I heard her sing “Son of a CREATURE Man!” What can I say? This occurred around Halloween so ghouls and goblins must have been on her mind. I’ll never think of the song in the same way anymore. My daughter — she cracks me up.

In The Dog House?

So I get a call last night from my credit card company at 9:15 pm. Considering I leave for work around 5 am I was half asleep when they called.  Apparently my credit card had been compromised. I ran down the list of charges with the representative. Everything seemed to check out with the exception of one charge – a charge for an escort service! I immediately denied the charge and had them cancel my account and reissue new cards. My husband is a user of this account, but I am the primary.

My husband comes into the room after I hang up, inquiring “who was that?” I explained the call and told him I had the card cancelled and a new one reissued.  When I told him what had happeneded his response was quiet. A simple word was uttered ”oh.”

I said, “What do you mean by OH?”

He replied, ” I think I know why that one charge is on your card.”

 

[silence, with a burning glare]

“OMG! You know why there there is an escort service charge on my credit card?! An escort service? Are you freaking kidding me?” I screamed! 

You see on Friday I allowed him to go to his friend’s house to play poker. This friend is in AA, as are most of the attendees so I knew alcohol would not be involved. Alcohol tends to make him do stupid things, but I figured this night was a safe night.

The story of the escort service focuses on one of the attendees (allegedly). Apparently one of the men is single, a little geeky, and the other married men wanted to fix him up. They figured the only way this guy would talk to a girl is if they paid for one online. They took up a collection and my stupid husband made the purchase with my credit card.

When the charge rings up it doesn’t ring up as a website, it rings up as an escort service (this was verified by the credit company). The charge was also for $49.00. Now I am not prone to purchasing people for their “company” but I am pretty sure a real escort service would charge more the $49.00 for a  “personal service”.  That coupled with the fact that he owned up to it leads me to believe he may be telling the truth. So I am leaning towards believing him.

And before you ask, yes, he is that stupid. Let’s face it most husbands at some point with do something that freaking dumb.  It sounds exactly like something he would do. Or am I being naive?

Has your significant other done anything this idiotic? Feel free to comment.

Why Dogs Make Life Less Stressful

You always hear how having a pet makes you live a longer fuller life. I guess they figure that having a snuggly companion is the reason for a fuller life.

I have a new theory on that. I think the stress that pets (mostly puppies) create makes you exercise more. Take last night, for example. Angel, my pitbull, decided to eat the carpet in my bedroom.  She doesn’t like to be confined and she has severe separation anxiety so she literally freaks out when the door is closed and no one is home. Now when I came home and saw this:

Angel is at it again...

 

…I had three options.

1. Kill her.
2. Give her away.
3. Clean up what I could, go to karate class and do kicks for 45 minutes then come home and drink a glass (or 3) of red wine.

I chose #3. My ass and legs are sore from having to hold my leg in a full blown kick stance for 5 minutes while the instructor took a phone call (they enjoy torturing us like that). All in all it was a good choice. I feel better, I’m not in jail, and I still had puppy feet in my face when I woke up this morning.

For those that wonder why one carpet episode might be so disruptful to my life — this is not the first time. She has hit before. I have learned to channel my anger through exercise.

Angel is at it again…

Thanks to Angel I have new tile in the family room and kitchen because she pulled the burber. I have new hardwood in the office because she dug up the carpet. I have new hardwood in the dining room and living room because she dug holes in the carpet there (those are the photos in the gallery). If I could just get her to eat the lamanent coutertops I might be able to get granite! I wonder if insurance covers this?

Pitbulls are so damned vicious!

I have an 8 year old Labrador and a 1 year old pitbull. When I left the house this morning each one had a rawhide bone. When I returned from breakfast I found the next door neighbor examining the pitbull (he’s a doc). Apparently dogs are like children. Regardless of the fact that they each had a bone, they both wanted the SAME bone.

The puppy wouldn’t let up so when the labrador had enough he attacked her. Of course they could only do this on a Sunday when only ER Vet care is available (and pricey). However, the ER vet was incredible and I couldn’t have asked for a better experience (as horrible as it was). She ended up with 20 stitches (10 internal with disolvable stitches) and 10 external. She is forced to wear the stupid eCollar so at least I got one in pink so she could be stylish.

Here she is resting right after surgery:

 

Here is “the attacker.” Of course, maybe he attacked because I made him wear the stupid Halloween collar.

Halloween Geek

Ok, I am the crazy mom in the neighborhood that hosts the halloween party. I am not a paganist; I am a Christian, but I love to be scared! There’s something about the adrenaline rush from horror that fascinates me.  I once thought I would do a thesis on exercising while watching horror films. I have a theory that you will burn more calories if you are scared during your workout. My tool of choice was the treadmill, but any needy students can feel free to borrow my idea (just give me a share of the royalties when you sell “sweating to The Shining). Ha ha.

Anyway, if you are the Halloween freak that I am you shall enjoy some of the scenes from my house of horrors…

My Daughter the Poet

My daughter is five years old and goes to kindergarten. For her first homework assignment she was to collect leaves from our yard and take them into class. The idea is to identify the different shapes and sizes and other properties of the leaf.

Now I have two trees in my yard. One is where my dog is buried, so we planted a dogwood tree. The other is where my cat is buried so, obviously, we planted a pussy willow tree.

I tried to explain to my daughter the names of the trees in case her teacher asked her to get up and give a little presentation to the class. I wanted her to sound prepared and intelligent. I’m a good mom, right? I’m trying to prepare my little girl for a public speaking future.

My plan did not go quite as well as I crafted. Anyhow, she seemed to merge the two tree names into one.  When she presented her leaves to the class she proceeded to explain that they were “Pussy Woods.” It’s every man’s dream to have a whole forest of Pussy Woods, I bet. And now I know where the term “she was stiff as a board” came from. It must be the Pussy Wood Tree!

Anyway, I about wet my pants when she told me that story. I hope you enjoy it as well.

What I Did for Fun Over Labor Day

Ok, so we know I know how to have a rip roaring good time up here in the boonies. But this weekend was the end all, be all, weekend of fun. I built a CORNICE BOX! Can you stand it? Omigod. What a wild woman I am. For those who are not addicted to HGTV like me, a cornice box goes at the top of a window or panel of windows and adds elegance to the room.

I simply had to have one. And since my husband is frugal at times, we decided to build one! I downloaded samples, material lists, and instructions from various sites. We loaded up the family truckster and headed out to Home Depot and Wal-Mart! Yeehaw.

We got the supplies and 5 hours later had a finished project. I felt a little bad about it because I told my husband it would only take 30 minutes. Ok, so I fibbed a little. He wouldn’t have done it otherwise.

Here is the finished product. I think it is rather glamorous. Don’t you agree?

How I Spent My Labor Day...

My Dog Thinks She is Human

I have a pitbull, who is ironically named “Angel” (the kids named her; not me). I love her to death, but she thinks she is human and it gets annoying sometimes. She allows my daughter to dress her like a baby and eat from a bottle. She gets so excited when she sees the bottle. She also loves to have her “hair” done. My daughter puts hair ties on her ears and she just sits there. Weirdo.

She is obsessed with scrunchies. I wrap my hair up in a scrunchy to go to bed every night. I also wear one if I am doing Taebo. If she notices the scrunchy she will pounce on me and rip it out. It never fails.

She showers with me. She has severe separation anxiety that she can’t even stand to be away from me when I shower. So I stand in the shower and she sits in the corner and gets drenched. She also sits on the ledge when anyone takes a bath. She enjoys popping the bubbles.

Speaking of bubbles, she enjoys red wine and beer. If I set down a glass I have to keep my eye on it or she makes a bee line for it and licks the rim. Gross! She may be fond of my backwash but I do not reciprocate those feelings.

My husband rarely sleeps in our bed. The pitbull has taken over. She sleeps in his spot, under the covers, with her head on a pillow. See for yourself:

Who Needs a Husband When You Have a Puppy - ha ha

Too much to drink, little girl?

 

What can I say? My dog is a nut. I wouldn’t have it any other way.