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Posts Tagged ‘dog’

Reaching a plateau

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on February 12, 2012| 2 Comments »

The day was full of possibilities.  The morning started rather well, with some cuddling of the six year old as he cried a wee bit about Brigadoon.  The tears soon turned to laughs as we talked about some Brigs’ goofier moments.  Everyone was fed, dressed, and ready to go to church.  Even managed to scrape off the minivan.  Goals were set for the day on the way to church and the sun began to peek through the clouds.

Before Sunday School, my oldest son asked me to go see the puppies his teacher had brought to class.  I went in happily, the circle of life and all, and I doubted they would be lab puppies.

Yep, a chocolate, a black, and a yellow in all their furry cuddly glory.  Tears sprung to my eyes.  I quickly left the room and went to teach my class.

After class, my sons and I went into the classroom and held those cute puppies.  My boys were quick to ask for the yellow one (no), then the other two (no and no).  Their requests helped me to not cry.  We went into church and I felt refreshed.  On the way home we stopped by the firehouse to sign up for little league and then splurged on some Dunkin Donuts.

The goals I had set for myself on the way to church were still in my working memory.  I planned on a very productive day.  We pulled into the driveway and I saw the gutter hanging off of the house.  Called my brother-in-law but he was up north shopping.  I simply hoped it wouldn’t rip all the way off, exposing the wood.

I hit the plateau.

Everything began to hurt.  Motivation flew out the window.  While I did accomplish some tasks, the energy was gone.  How can that little of a day suck so much energy out of me?

Yes, my sons had a fun day.  They used their sleds a few times down the little hill.  They played outside until they were freezing.  They played Air Hogs inside, had fun meals, and were wonderfully behaved all day.  As I type, they are playing in the bathroom sink.  Water continues to fascinate them.  They’ve followed directions, been gracious, and had a pleasant day.  I love my time with them, you know, time not interrupted by other things.

My question, more to myself but if anyone has theories, feel free to share them, is how do I summon up so much energy at work five days a week and cannot make it past 3:00 on a weekend day?  What changes?  Is it because I sit behind a desk like a bump on a log at work?  Is it because I put more heart and soul into the weekend days because family trumps work and I wear myself out more quickly?  Obviously, like many folks, I wish I could work two days a week and have five days off with my family.  Since that’s not the schedule at work, and I’m not independently wealthy, I work five days a week and get two days with my family.  Why can I not manage my energy better on Saturday and Sunday?

So here I sit at 7:30, an obscenely early hour in my world, hoping my sons go to bed and fall asleep really quickly so I can go to bed with ice packs on various bones.  My bro-in-law was wonderful and stopped by with his wonderful wife and in the freezing cold, he nailed the gutter back up onto the house.  I got the ladders and hammer ready right after they called because we were losing daylight fast.  Now the gutter will at least hold till it can be properly replaced.

The many goals that were set?  I hung up two towel hooks and set up a litter box with an easier entry for the very senior cat.  The many others?  Still sitting in my working memory, wondering when they too will be accomplished.

Not tonight my good goals.  Not tonight.  I’ll be lucky to make it to the bed.

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House Marathon

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on February 11, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Today I enjoyed a House marathon both on television and in my house.  Today was the first day in about five weeks that I haven’t had to go anywhere.  It has been lovely.  I baked chicken using a little Bisquick recipe and it was yummy.  I did not strain to do anything.  Granted,  I didn’t accomplish an amazing amount of productive stuff, but the relaxation was the productive stuff today.

I made Scotty do laundry yesterday because I had been avoiding it.  Today I did a load.  There was no dog barking at the washer machine.

I cleaned.  I watched House.  I spent time with my sons when they wanted to be with me.  We cuddled a wee bit this morning which was sweet.

Relief came in the form of not thinking a lot today.  My muscles are beginning to loosen, but that in itself brings new forms of aches.  Motivation still needs to be found in the physical activity arena.  I’m hopeful it will light up within me soon.  Otherwise I will be forced to make myself do something.  So much harder without an intrinsic motivation.  Even when I feel “better”, physical activity makes everything hurt more which then sends me back into a phase of inactivity.  It’s a viscous cycle, I tell you!  If I can find some physical activities that help and don’t hurt and make them a routine, that would be lovely.

But tonight things hurt just a bit too much as some of the week’s tension seeps away.  Tonight will simply include a marathon of sleep in my house of chaos.  Madness knew “Our House”.

Father wears his Sunday best
Mother’s tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister’s sighing in her sleep
Brother’s got a date to keep
He can’t hang aroundOur house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our

Our house it has a crowd
There’s always something happening
And it’s usually quite loud
Our mum she’s so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our

Our house, in the middle of our street
(Something tells you)
(That you’ve got to get away from it)
Our house, in the middle of our

Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
She’s the one they’re going to miss
In lots of ways

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our

I remember way back then when
Everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time
Such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how we’d play
Simply waste the day away
Then we’d say
Nothing would come between us
Two dreamers

Father wears his Sunday best
Mother’s tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister’s sighing in her sleep
Brother’s got a date to keep
He can’t hang around

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street

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Brigadoon

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , on February 7, 2012| Leave a Comment »

“…but not Ferdinand.

He liked to sit just quietly

and smell the flowers.”

(from The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf)

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Uncle Stevie comes to the rescue

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , , , on February 6, 2012| 2 Comments »

“May be she’ll learn something about what death really is, which is where the pain stops and the good memories begin. Not the end of life but the end of pain.”
― Stephen King, Pet Sematary

The first dog I had was named Tasha.  She was a fox terrier.  The curly, or wire-haired, type.  She was adorable.  She lived till the ripe old age of ten.  When she went, it was the first experience I had with losing someone close to me.  Yes, she was a dog.  I do differentiate between humans and animals, but she was the first living creature I had seen every day from the age of two to pass.  Now, at the age of twelve, I didn’t get to see her anymore.  Pets do so much in a person’s life.  For all the many years you live with them, they fill your days with happiness, laughter, and good times, good times.

At the end there is pain.  But the pain you feel disappears just as Uncle Stevie wrote.  The good memories begin.  Tasha was a fun dog who let me dress her up in doll clothes and she would sit in the doll stroller.  She had a lot of patience with me.  As she got older, she gained weight (don’t we all?) and spent more time sleeping (don’t we all?).  When her time came, it sucked.  I cried and it made me mad that she couldn’t live forever.  It was not the first time I had experienced death, but I hadn’t known the relatives who had died, they weren’t a part of my daily existence so I really didn’t notice (at that young age) any change now that they were gone.  I noticed that my dog was no longer there.

Now that I’m older I realize that with the passing of the relatives, it does impact my daily existence.  As each generation passes, you move up one.  You take on new familial responsibilities.  Perhaps not overtly, not things you notice every day, but overall you move up in the family tree.  You have more branches growing and suddenly you are the one who is supposed to fill in the names in the book.

I think that’s why pets are a good thing for a family.  They help you to learn about loving unconditionally and how to grieve when the time comes.  It does not make the loss of a loved one any easier, but you have an understanding of the grieving process.  You understand the feelings of anger, frustration, sadness.  The experience of not being able to do a damn thing more than what you tried already.

Tomorrow the second dog I have loved will be with us no more.  Brigs is twelve and has been in a lot of pain the past year or so.  More than we probably realized, more than he may have shown until quite recently.  And it is time.  Our youngest is afraid of the growth on his head and our oldest recites a little mantra before he goes downstairs to visit him.  It’s hard for me to look at this beautiful dog with the memories of his happy, fun life in my head while he struggles to stand up.  Brigs hasn’t been upstairs for a year-he can’t handle walking up or down the stairs.  He’s been on thyroid meds for five years and insulin twice a day for three years.  There is a litany of issues this sweet dog has been dealing with but that’s not the part to focus on now.

Tomorrow we will learn about where the pain stops and the good memories begin.  Like when he ate my husband’s underwear.  Or ate the chocolate.  Or ate his flea collar.  Or ate half a dozen dog beds, including one that was obscenely expensive and guaranteed to be chew proof.  He ripped that thing apart, stuffing everywhere, within twelve hours.  I called the company and the very nice guy on the phone asked if the bed had arrived.  I told him yes.  He asked if my dog, Brigadoon (I splurged for the embroidered name if memory serves), liked the bed.  I told him he thought it was delicious and did they mean it when they said it was guaranteed?  He asked how long the bed lasted and I told him it didn’t make it through the night.  They happily refunded my money.  Anything he could eat, he did.  Brigs still has an iron stomach.  The rest of him just doesn’t work so well.

Once he ate the boys’ crayons.  Very colorful poop.

He’s allergic to acorns.  They cause him to have convulsions.  He has never been able to enjoy our shady back yard because the two oak trees drop lots of acorns and he thinks the acorns are kibble.  Silly dog.

We’ll think about the time the boys colored him with the red magic marker.  We’ll think about the “puppy Olympics” he would do in the house.  He would run from one end of the house to the other as fast as he could and jump up on the chaise at the one end.  We had a perfect mold of his ass in the wall from where he slammed into it over and over again.  I have the sheet rock to repair the wall.  I’ve had it for over a year.  Just can’t bring myself to repair it.

In their young lives, the boys have lost two cats.  They have vague memories of the experience.  When their grandmother, my wonderful mother-in-law, passed, we told them about it but didn’t have them experience the viewing or funeral.  They were too young.  Hell, I had nightmares for months after she passed.

It didn’t make sense.  I loved her and we got along really well.  Why would she be chasing me in my dreams?  Had she not really liked me?  It haunted me for months.  My husband and I discussed what could be causing the nightmares but couldn’t come up with a reason that made sense.  Then a few months later my husband called me from his dad’s house and he was very excited.  He was helping his father close out the accounts and he discovered I hadn’t cashed my birthday check from my mother-in-law.  Well, if there was one thing Mom couldn’t stand, it was an uncashed check.  I found the check, cashed it, and bought some shoes in honor of her.  Nightmares stopped.

Tomorrow the boys will have their first first-hand experience with death.  They will be sad, frustrated, angry, and then hopefully happy as they remember Brigs as he was, not as the old, hurting dog he became.  I will not let them read Pet Sematary, hell, I can’t read it anymore.  Now that I have young sons, I can’t read it.  I’ll read it again when they are older.  But we will take Uncle Stevie’s words and embrace them.  We will let the pain end and the good memories begin.  Not the end of life but the end of pain.

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Brigs’ second brain

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , on January 24, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Tonight I was a very good doggy mommy and cleaned the utterly gross growths on Brigs’ head and shoulder.  He wanted nothing to do with me poking around his second brain.  Noises were made and I treaded lightly.  The one on his leg/shoulder area he didn’t mind as much.  He let me clean it pretty well (not great, but it’s a start).  I also put the antibiotic cream on it.  I put it on a paper towel and then put it on him.  I could not stomach touching it.

I’ve stomached a lot over the years with Brigs, but without going into too much detail, this is grosser than I can handle.  There are other issues, loss of bowel control, that are actually easier to deal with because you just have to pick that up and throw it away!

This can’t be picked up and thrown away.  When do you decide your beloved pet has dealt with enough?

Last night, as we were discussing our options with Brigs, to prepare the boys for the inevitable, the boys asked when.  I said I didn’t know when, that it would depend on how he keeps doing.  My youngest became very thoughtful and then said, “How about March?”  I blinked at him for about a minute, wondering how could a six year old choose something so readily?  He explained that his unbirthday school party is in February, and his brother’s unbirthday school party is in April, so it would be okay to be sad in March.  Ah, the logic of a six year old boy.

I don’t know what we’ll do or when we’ll do it.  I just hope it gets easier to clean his brain.

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Brigadoon and 100 years

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on January 23, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Oh bloody hell…just wrote a post about my dog and it got lost as it got published.  I’ll try it again.

The weather was very Scottish today…a good day to think of Brigadoon.   He’s not 100 years old, he’s in his mid-60s in people years.  He has diabetes, thyroid issues, arthritis, his one eye is sinking in a wee bit, he has growths in various spots, and one large fat growth on his shoulder that makes him look like Quasimodo.  He ain’t heavy, he’s my doggy.

Okay, he is heavy.  He weighs in at 100 pounds (he lost ten pounds over three years).  He is such a good dog.  He was already four when our first son was born and he adapted to the boys wonderfully.  They played with him, cuddled him, colored him with permanent red marker…

The boys aren’t as comfortable with Brigs nowadays.  The one growth on his head is a wee but nasty (we lovingly call it his “second brain”).  When Brigs and I got home from the vet’s office, the boys asked if the vet was going to remove it.  We sat down and had a good, but complicated, conversation.  I explained that Daddy and I decided not to have the growths removed.  Brigs might not wake up from the anesthesia.  The anesthesia would certainly throw off his insulin for a couple of weeks.  He could have hypoglycemic episodes again or slip into a diabetic coma.  He could also have accidents…I remind you this is not a small dog…they would not be small accidents!

We spoke about each of us spending some time with Brigs each day.  He hasn’t been upstairs for a year, so he can’t come to us when he wants the company.  We have to go to him.  I told them if each of us spend a little time each day, we’ll cover the hour he’s awake easily.  I explained that they can pet him all they want because they can’t catch the growths from him.  I also told them not to pet the growths so they won’t irritate them (this was not an issue since there was no way they would ever touch them, but we were covering all the bases).  Tonight was easy because Brigs was totally spent from going to the vet.  Yep, I actually checked he was breathing-he’s that tired.

The thing I’m most concerned about is a big snowstorm.  He just doesn’t have that Gene-Kelly-spring-in-his-step anymore.  I suppose we’ll be shoveling the yard in addition to the sidewalks this winter.  We do so love this dog.

Brigadoon, Brigadoon,
Blooming under sable skies.
Brigadoon, Brigadoon,
There my heart forever lies.
Let the world grow cold around us,
Let the heavens cry above!
Brigadoon, Brigadoon,
In thy valley, there’ll be love!

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Brigs and the first snow

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , on January 4, 2012| Leave a Comment »

I am so thankful for my 12-year-old diabetic dog.  He has the call of nature a lot and this evening, as I muttered under my breath because he was barking after 10pm, I shoved my feet in my snow boots simply because they were the easiest to put on my feet.  Turns out I chose the proper footwear because Brigs, while needing the outdoors for nature’s call, also sensed the first snow had arrived.

Brigs has loved the snow since he was a puppy.  As a lab, one would expect him to love water, but he never has.  But snow…snow…Brigs loves snow.  And tonight we shared the first snow of 2012.  I will love the memory of him walking around tonight, face up to the sky, as the snowflakes fell on his big old body.  Happy first snow, puppy.

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The Creepiness of Fall

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on November 18, 2011| Leave a Comment »

The leaves provide a foley artist soundscape as I am walking around campus.  The crisp leaves crinkle under everyone’s foot steps.  As the trees become more bare, they take on their skeletal appearance.  The branches look like arms of the dead reaching out for something we don’t want to know about.  It’s tolerable during the day.

But at night as I walk my dog, it takes on a darker feel.  The crinkle of the leaves underfoot echoes a bit more.  The random solitary leaf blowing down the road sounds like the feet of a small creature approaching for an attack.  Even my dog lifts up his eyes and searches the road for the origin of the sounds.

The night is crisp tonight.  The cold stars are twinkling down but seem more mysterious with the dark, dark sky surrounding them.  When the moon is full, one would think you would feel more comfort with it shining brightly through the skeletal trees, but in fact the full moon’s glow only creates more shadows, more areas to watch.

But it is the cycle.  As winter closes in, the days will be grayer and the nights will be creepier.  Snow and ice will add to the dark mood of the winter season.

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Autumnal Leaves

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , , , on November 13, 2011| Leave a Comment »

Once I was done vacuuming the rocket sled (the boys thought it would be fun to see what made the rubber chicken so squishy-little styrofoam balls, in case you were wondering), it was time to participate in suburbia’s annual ridiculousness known as raking the leaves.  When did we forget that God had a pretty good plan when He designed trees?  And the seasons?  The trees lose their leaves and they fall to the ground.  If we were to leave them there, their nutrients would go back into the ground and they naturally mulch plants that need mulching.  But no…here in suburbia, we want neat, well-manicured lawns.

I rebel against this in several ways.  First, today was the second time I raked and dragged the leaves to the curb.  It will be the last for the season.  I’ll just “not have any more time” to work on this task.  This way I’ve conformed enough to the societal demands, yet still leave enough leaves to let them do their natural jobs.  When my neighbor says something, and she will, but always in a gentle way, I’ll simply say it’s tough keeping up and hasn’t the year gone quickly?

Another rebellion is to mow my lawn but keep the height of the mower so the grass doesn’t get a crew cut each time.  This helps keep more moisture if the rains take some time between showering us with water and makes the grass wave ever so slightly in the wind.  I know my lawn is an even mixture of grass and weeds, but the flowers of the weeds are so pretty.

My other rebellion involves my holly trees.  I used to hate them.  They were in bad shape.  They were planted way too close to each other (they came with the house) and in need of serious shaping.  I still haven’t properly shaped them, but I stopped trying to get rid of the natural underbrush that grows around them.  Turns out this provides a lovely home for birds.  Remember the movie Over the Hedge?  We’ve pushed the little woodland animals aside and then with our beautifully manicured lawns, with no underbrush, taken away any possible refuge for the critters.  I read that keeping an area like this in your yard provides a natural habitat for birds and is more effective than any bloody bird house you could stick out there.  The holly trees and the viney plants that grow around them provide shelter, a place to build their nests, protection, and food.  It’s lovely walking by it during the spring and summer-lovely little bird noises coming from it.  During the nesting period, it can be a little tricky for our dog.  Those mama birds interpret him as trouble if he walks too close and he has had a few birds dive bomb at him.  Fortunately, he’s gigantic and we walk away before the birds do anything serious.

So, if you are partaking in suburbia’s ritualistic insanity of undoing the good work God did in designing trees and leaves, go light this year.  You’ll have a greener lawn next year with less work.  Let your dog fertilize your lawn too.  That’s what we do.  For every season…

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Sounds of chaos

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , , on October 10, 2011| Leave a Comment »

One of the greatest sounds in the world is hearing your son using a walkie-talkie to talk to his friend across the street.  Thanks to the ALCS, Terra Nova is delayed.  The boys are cleaning up the never-ending supply of Legos, but also chatting with their friend across the street.  The conversation is not that interesting (M, is that you?…Yes, it’s me.  Is that you, H?…Yes, are we gonna talk or what?) but that’s not the point.  It’s so very The Body aka Stand by Me.  They could be following the train tracks looking for their first dead body.  It is one of the sounds of chaos in my home.

Another sound tonight is the vacuum.  I love vacuuming.  I simply don’t get to do it as often as I’d like to.  I have an awesome vacuum, lots of attachments.  It does an awesome job on the stairs.  Even sucks up Legos.  A tough lesson for my sons, but one that helps them to learn to pick the bloody things up.  I used to avoid the Legos when I was vacuuming, but it took a lot of extra time.  Plus, there were always more Legos the next time I vacuumed.   I also know there will always be more Legos to be had.

Another sound of chaos is the whining and barking of our 12-year-old lab.  He’s a good dog.  He’s simply old.  He’s got issues.

Ah, the grand slam ended the game (don’t ask me which teams were playing, I didn’t notice).  I did notice that my sons used the time to be kids.  One talking on the walkie-talkie and the other starting a new book about the Jersey Devil.  I hope they are enjoying their childhoods.  They grow out of them too quickly.  You have to have the great childhood adventures while you’re a child.  Soon enough, you start having real life butting its ugly head into the picture and the fun and freedom of childhood disappears in a puff of smoke.

That’s why I’m making a clown costume and a Headless Horseman costume.  That’s why they dig holes in the backyard looking for dinosaur fossils.  That’s why they listen to stories about the Jersey Devil.

I love watching Terra Nova with them.  I love that it’s on the same time Little House on the Prairie was on when I was a kid.  Yes, it’s a different frontier and the wild beasts are a bit more dramatic, but it is sort of like Little House meets Land of the Lost.  Only there aren’t any sleestak. 

The house of chaos continues to thrive.

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