Saturday, July 30, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
This Week
No time to post. The puppy must be watched at ALL times. At any given time, she could be sniffing around to pee, actually peeing somewhere, or is just about to pee as I scoop her up and run to the pads. Also, she usually has something in her mouth that she's not supposed to.
Last week I ate TWO pints of ice cream on two seperate days. I was concerned I may have gained weight. This may seem crazy to you but not to me. I look at cake and gain. (Besides, ice cream wasn't the only naughty thing I had eaten) Luckily I had not gained weight (yet) but I credit this to daily pooping. What? Everybody poops. (Well, there was that period of about 15 years when I didn't)
I hadn't brushed my hair all week. I found that it's easier to knot into a scruncii if I don't brush it. It's thick and wavy and when I brush it, it gets straight and poofy. Looks like a bad '80's tease. So I didn't brush my hair all week. Plus it shaved 90 seconds off my morning routine.
That's it for now. The puppy has left the room and I need to go see what's chewing/peeing on.
Last week I ate TWO pints of ice cream on two seperate days. I was concerned I may have gained weight. This may seem crazy to you but not to me. I look at cake and gain. (Besides, ice cream wasn't the only naughty thing I had eaten) Luckily I had not gained weight (yet) but I credit this to daily pooping. What? Everybody poops. (Well, there was that period of about 15 years when I didn't)
I hadn't brushed my hair all week. I found that it's easier to knot into a scruncii if I don't brush it. It's thick and wavy and when I brush it, it gets straight and poofy. Looks like a bad '80's tease. So I didn't brush my hair all week. Plus it shaved 90 seconds off my morning routine.
That's it for now. The puppy has left the room and I need to go see what's chewing/peeing on.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
More Pictures of the Cutest Thing Ever Made
Sunday, July 17, 2011
The Cutest Thing Ever Made
This is why I haven't been blogging, or reading blogs. It's a long story how all this turned out but I don't feel like writing lately. I have watch this little gal and make sure she's not chewing on a lamp cord, peeing in the corner or terrorizing our other dog, Lucy. Her name is Zoe. She's not much bigger than a soda can but she sure can cause a lot of big trouble! And that's that.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Heart Wrenching, Gut Wrenching
This long holiday weekend hasn't been going well. Friday close to 5pm I had called the shelter in Waco and told them we were coming from Temple and hopefully we could make it by 6pm, closing time. This would have been a great time for the lady to explain to me that they stop adoptions at 5:30 except she didn't say anything. I figured most people knew it was a 30 minuet drive. Due to a wreck, or two, we were stuck on the interstate for half an hour, pretty much just sitting there. I called the shelter to see if the puppy Shawn had viewed on their website was still available. This was when the woman told me about the 5:30 thing. Sigh.
Later that night, Shawn lost a brand new month old filling. It came out while munching on some pizza. Sigh. The next morning we traveled back to Waco. A lot of these dogs are brought in from the streets and some, you could play like a xylophone. I cried several times and for pretty much the entire duration of the visit. I wanted to take home each and every one of these dogs and feed them raw steaks until they were fat like pigs.
The puppy was held by a foster family. Once I explained that we were from Temple, had no idea of our way around Waco, Susan, the foster mother, volunteered to come to the shelter. Shawn held the puppy and Susan explained that normally the dog is playful but has been docile. Her fur has been falling out and flaking up. Shawn stroked this pitiful thing as Susan told a worker she'd like to see the vet; this dog had developed pustules that were getting bigger. "At first, they looked like ant bites, but they're getting bigger," Susan explained.
She opened up the dog's hind legs and revealed some very horrible and large blister-looking, pus filled nodules. I whispered to Shawn that maybe he ought to hand the dog back before he gets too attached. We were also concerned about taking this infection home to our own little wee one. The vet appeared concerned, told Susan to keep an eye on everything and in an emergency situation, advised her where to take the puppy. Since she was the foster, she had the say on where this dog went. If she felt like we were bad people, she could turn us down. She decided to hold the dog until everyone knew what was wrong with her and took our phone number.
One one of Shawn's smoke breaks, I explained to Susan, very briefly, what we had recently been through and we were not prepared to go through that again so soon. Yes, the puppy was adorable, but the vet pointed out green drainage from the puppy's nose (which to me spells out infection) and the dog had watery eyes, something that wasn't happening before all this started. Neither of us expected this poor dog to be getting well any time soon. We decided to put it of our minds and try to forget the whole thing.
I must have cried half way home. Too many memories were floating in my head, too many sad, hungry dogs, and too many that were so friendly and cute you'd want to take them all with you. We made a couple more stops, the last being at our local shelter. Dogs ran up to me with wagging tails and stopped at their own gates. This made me tear up. In the last cage was an beautiful boxer, solid white with crystal blue eyes and an injury on the top of his head. A small flap of skin hung off a newly healing gash. This made me tear up. I worker brought in a bulldog, a nylon rope around its neck and dragged the dog to a cage. Everything inside of me screamed out but I was so emotional I said nothing. The hair on the bulldog's neck was rubbed away from the rope, or a previous owner's rope. PICK HIM UP!! I wanted to shout.
We walked out into the parking lot, with myself now crying freely. Shawn said it will be hard to find something specific in shelters. I told him it's very hard emotionally. I think we were done for the day. I made dinner and pretty much did nothing the rest of the day. I was sucked dry, drained, exhausted. All over again.
Mom said a cousin of ours might have a list of notable breeders. I don't know if I'm up for anymore heart ache this weekend. Mom checked her newspaper and told me of a breeder in a neighboring town. I wrote down the number and price but neither of is called. I think we were both just wiped out completely. I cannot speak for Shawn but after leaving the Waco shelter, I felt like my soul was broke in two.
I told him I wasn't ready for this.
Later that night, Shawn lost a brand new month old filling. It came out while munching on some pizza. Sigh. The next morning we traveled back to Waco. A lot of these dogs are brought in from the streets and some, you could play like a xylophone. I cried several times and for pretty much the entire duration of the visit. I wanted to take home each and every one of these dogs and feed them raw steaks until they were fat like pigs.
The puppy was held by a foster family. Once I explained that we were from Temple, had no idea of our way around Waco, Susan, the foster mother, volunteered to come to the shelter. Shawn held the puppy and Susan explained that normally the dog is playful but has been docile. Her fur has been falling out and flaking up. Shawn stroked this pitiful thing as Susan told a worker she'd like to see the vet; this dog had developed pustules that were getting bigger. "At first, they looked like ant bites, but they're getting bigger," Susan explained.
She opened up the dog's hind legs and revealed some very horrible and large blister-looking, pus filled nodules. I whispered to Shawn that maybe he ought to hand the dog back before he gets too attached. We were also concerned about taking this infection home to our own little wee one. The vet appeared concerned, told Susan to keep an eye on everything and in an emergency situation, advised her where to take the puppy. Since she was the foster, she had the say on where this dog went. If she felt like we were bad people, she could turn us down. She decided to hold the dog until everyone knew what was wrong with her and took our phone number.
One one of Shawn's smoke breaks, I explained to Susan, very briefly, what we had recently been through and we were not prepared to go through that again so soon. Yes, the puppy was adorable, but the vet pointed out green drainage from the puppy's nose (which to me spells out infection) and the dog had watery eyes, something that wasn't happening before all this started. Neither of us expected this poor dog to be getting well any time soon. We decided to put it of our minds and try to forget the whole thing.
I must have cried half way home. Too many memories were floating in my head, too many sad, hungry dogs, and too many that were so friendly and cute you'd want to take them all with you. We made a couple more stops, the last being at our local shelter. Dogs ran up to me with wagging tails and stopped at their own gates. This made me tear up. In the last cage was an beautiful boxer, solid white with crystal blue eyes and an injury on the top of his head. A small flap of skin hung off a newly healing gash. This made me tear up. I worker brought in a bulldog, a nylon rope around its neck and dragged the dog to a cage. Everything inside of me screamed out but I was so emotional I said nothing. The hair on the bulldog's neck was rubbed away from the rope, or a previous owner's rope. PICK HIM UP!! I wanted to shout.
We walked out into the parking lot, with myself now crying freely. Shawn said it will be hard to find something specific in shelters. I told him it's very hard emotionally. I think we were done for the day. I made dinner and pretty much did nothing the rest of the day. I was sucked dry, drained, exhausted. All over again.
Mom said a cousin of ours might have a list of notable breeders. I don't know if I'm up for anymore heart ache this weekend. Mom checked her newspaper and told me of a breeder in a neighboring town. I wrote down the number and price but neither of is called. I think we were both just wiped out completely. I cannot speak for Shawn but after leaving the Waco shelter, I felt like my soul was broke in two.
I told him I wasn't ready for this.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Puppy Shopping
I'm not sure how this even got started. Apparently, when I described how Lucy didn't want to spend time with me on certain days and it depressed me, Shawn felt the same way. But he's a guy so he's not going to open wide and actually talk about this. His way of broaching the subject was wanting to surprise me by taking me all the Waco to look at a puppy. I hate surprises and finally dragged out of him what he was wanting $100 for.
"A puppy! No, Shawn I don't want a puppy!" I said. This spurred a vicious fight later that evening. I won't go into detail because if I do, I'll only make Shawn out to be the bad guy (he was) and I did no wrong (I didn't). Let's just say it got very personal and became very ugly, very quickly (his fault). We both hollered, we both cried, we both went to bed at separate times without saying a word. And apparently, it's my fault we don't have a child and that's all I'm gonna say on that matter!
The next morning, I thought quite a lot about this. I called Shawn from work and told him I'd make a deal with him. The fence on our neighbor's side is a wooden, dilapidated piece of crap that's just waiting for one good gust of wind to shred it into saw dust. I told Shawn if he promised to put up some chain link there, we could get a dog (even though I was sure I am not yet ready). We argued on the phone a bit and hung up.
Shawn is pretty adamant about a young dog so "we'll have the most time with it". And he told me several times, "I don't want to replace Prissy". This is so true that he even stated that he didn't want a dog with white in its fur. Part of having Prissy in the house was the constant finding of a single white hair in the oddest of places (such as attached to the milk carton while in the fridge, in my underwear, a single hair on the stove top). I'm a fan of getting a dog from a shelter but frustrated that we didn't see much in the photos online, Shawn decided to check the classifieds of the local newspaper. "You're gonna need about three-hundred bucks," I said. And of course, Shawn got a good old fashion taste of sticker shock when he read the classifieds.
When I was fourteen, I watched a program on TV about puppy mills--true puppy mills. The image of one dog whose skin had grown around and on top of his collar is forever burned in my mind. Etched in the recesses of my brain are pictures of puppies forced to sleep in huge piles of their own fecal materials. So, I'm kind of against the whole breeder thing in general. On the one hand, you may be saving a shelter dog from certain death, but then again, the puppies are the first to go; they're never euthanized. And you're not exactly sure how big that puppy is gonna get. With a breeder (a good an honest breeder, of course) you can see the dog's parents, interact with the siblings, see the conditions the dog is living in.
One thing that decides this dilemma for us: We don't have $300 to spend on a dog. Although at this point, Shawn really doesn't seem to care. Shawn is not the one who keeps the budget, pays the bills, and balances the check book. I don't really feel up to the task of house training another dog, cleaning up pee, and keeping a VERY close eye on poor Lucy. I don't really feel like driving here, going there, looking at a hundred dogs, all of whom I'd like to take home based only on the sole aspect of their pitiful faces.. I'd hate to fall in love with a dozen photos, only to discover the photo had been adopted. I just don't want to go through all this. Let it be noted that I am being unselfish. Let the world know that while I do not feel ready for a new dog, Shawn does feel ready so I am giving in to play the role of the loving spouse.
This is a new thing for me, so let's not go overboard about my selflessness.
"A puppy! No, Shawn I don't want a puppy!" I said. This spurred a vicious fight later that evening. I won't go into detail because if I do, I'll only make Shawn out to be the bad guy (he was) and I did no wrong (I didn't). Let's just say it got very personal and became very ugly, very quickly (his fault). We both hollered, we both cried, we both went to bed at separate times without saying a word. And apparently, it's my fault we don't have a child and that's all I'm gonna say on that matter!
The next morning, I thought quite a lot about this. I called Shawn from work and told him I'd make a deal with him. The fence on our neighbor's side is a wooden, dilapidated piece of crap that's just waiting for one good gust of wind to shred it into saw dust. I told Shawn if he promised to put up some chain link there, we could get a dog (even though I was sure I am not yet ready). We argued on the phone a bit and hung up.
Shawn is pretty adamant about a young dog so "we'll have the most time with it". And he told me several times, "I don't want to replace Prissy". This is so true that he even stated that he didn't want a dog with white in its fur. Part of having Prissy in the house was the constant finding of a single white hair in the oddest of places (such as attached to the milk carton while in the fridge, in my underwear, a single hair on the stove top). I'm a fan of getting a dog from a shelter but frustrated that we didn't see much in the photos online, Shawn decided to check the classifieds of the local newspaper. "You're gonna need about three-hundred bucks," I said. And of course, Shawn got a good old fashion taste of sticker shock when he read the classifieds.
When I was fourteen, I watched a program on TV about puppy mills--true puppy mills. The image of one dog whose skin had grown around and on top of his collar is forever burned in my mind. Etched in the recesses of my brain are pictures of puppies forced to sleep in huge piles of their own fecal materials. So, I'm kind of against the whole breeder thing in general. On the one hand, you may be saving a shelter dog from certain death, but then again, the puppies are the first to go; they're never euthanized. And you're not exactly sure how big that puppy is gonna get. With a breeder (a good an honest breeder, of course) you can see the dog's parents, interact with the siblings, see the conditions the dog is living in.
One thing that decides this dilemma for us: We don't have $300 to spend on a dog. Although at this point, Shawn really doesn't seem to care. Shawn is not the one who keeps the budget, pays the bills, and balances the check book. I don't really feel up to the task of house training another dog, cleaning up pee, and keeping a VERY close eye on poor Lucy. I don't really feel like driving here, going there, looking at a hundred dogs, all of whom I'd like to take home based only on the sole aspect of their pitiful faces.. I'd hate to fall in love with a dozen photos, only to discover the photo had been adopted. I just don't want to go through all this. Let it be noted that I am being unselfish. Let the world know that while I do not feel ready for a new dog, Shawn does feel ready so I am giving in to play the role of the loving spouse.
This is a new thing for me, so let's not go overboard about my selflessness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
