Mud season

Mar. 19th, 2014 12:17 pm
ksmith: (gaby1)

‘Tis the season where I have to towel off Gaby’s feet before letting her in the house. Except today we awoke to rain, which added in with temps above freezing for several days in a row and the resulting thaw and someone named Gaby’s overwhelming desire to bury something…

MUD. I mean, paws like snowshoes except snowshoes made of MUD. I tried toweling them off. Then I tried wet paper towels. Then dipping paws in a pan filled with warm water.

I finally gave up and bundled Gaby into the tub. Directed the detachable shower head at her paws, and marveled at the never-ending stream of filth. Dried Gaby off, then cleaned the tub. The floor. Bundled towels into the washer. Vacuumed.

I should learn to ignore the muddy footprints until they dry, at which point I can vacuum the resulting fine dirt. But then I need to put up with a floor dotted with paw prints, like a canine Marauders Map.

I will have to admit that once I got Gaby into the tub, she stood still like a good girl, and needed to be urged to jump out so I could dry her off. I gave her a cookie. She is dozing on the couch now, where she will remain until July.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (gaby1)

Saw one of these during the morning walk. I need to take my camera on these jaunts.

Herself got skunked last night. A minor assault, as these things go, but enough to make her rub her face in the grass for a few minutes. Luckily, I had bought a bottle of Nature’s Miracle after friends raved about it. Managed to get rid of the worst of the stink. I will still try to get her to the groomers this week, though. There’s always that last bit of whiffage that I can’t get out no matter what I do.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (cloud dream)

I will be 55 tomorrow.

Have yet to adjust to the 50s. The 40s still felt, if not young, at least pre-middle ages. But 50s butt up against the 60s, which is Social Security/Medicare territory and no I’m not ready. I know, I still have 5 years left to kid myself that 50 is the new 30 so that means that 55 is the new 37.3 or some such. But I know how quickly time passes now–events from 5 years past still replay in my brain as if they happened yesterday. One of my fave t-shirts is a navy blue trad cut with a Santa Barbara crest that I bought for my Dad 20 years ago at my first writers conference ever. 1993 was 20 years ago. I still remember walking along the beach and listening to the lectures and surviving the workshops and receiving validation in the speculative fiction workshop that yes, I could actually write.

20 years.

It doesn’t matter that to some folks, I may not look my age. I’m not sure what that means. This is what 55 looks like. There are lines that weren’t there a few years ago. Skin no longer as taut. There’s more gray hair. Stuff hurts. I’m at the age where Doctors test All The Things. The body, it has changed, in most ways not for the better. I am, knock wood so hard it splinters, blessed with decent health, and to be honest, fuck the skin and hair, that’s all I want. If I have that, I can push/pull/adjust/survive anything else. This, I tell myself. That’s my bargain with whatever inevitable is out there. Just grant me this one thing.

I understand, though, that shit happens. Seen it up close over the last 10 years.

I understand that I am blessed with resource. I am a child of the First World, and though I made countless bad choices over the years, I ended up okay.

I understand that unless there is some startling medical breakthrough in the next few years, I’m on the downward slope.

If nothing else, this understanding is driving me to take some chances, so that I can spend as much time as possible doing what I really want to do. Last year at this time, I wasn’t at this point.

Not much else to say. Wondering where I’ll be a year from now. Lots to do between now and then.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (gaby2)

T-storms last night and this morning. Rumbles. King would have been pacing, pawing me, trying to climb onto the bed. He hated thunder. Over the last few years, he even grew restless as the pressure changed.

Gaby…sleeps. Unless it rumbles hard enough to rattle the house, she pretty much ignores storms.

It’s strange, getting used to not having to do certain things because King is no longer around. No more emptying tissues and paper towel out of the open-top trash cans so he wouldn’t eat them. No more lowering the toilet lid to keep him from drinking. Last week, I put the pale green and white bedspread on the bed–King would always brush against the edges of bedspreads when he followed me around the room, and his hair really showed up on anything light-colored.

Yeah, I know. Trying to keep dog hair off the bed–what was I thinking?

I can even contemplate switching out the lava rock in the backyard for wood mulch. King used to love to chew on anything wood, and whenever he had a stomach upset he would eat anything to try to quell the burning, including mulch. Gaby’s not a wood eater.

Bladder capacity, however, is another matter. I have to make sure to set out the pads before I leave for any period of time because little Miss Teaspoon-and-a-Half sometimes can’t hold it for more than a couple of hours….

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (gaby1)

Ya-flippy dippin’-hoo.

Awoke around 8ish, and started getting prepped for a busy day of shopping and working when Gaby threw up on the hallway rug. Yellow liquid with foam. Good old bile, which had built up enough to irritate her tum because she hasn’t been eating enough.

She had yet to eat breakfast, and hadn’t eaten since Friday dinner, which was at 5pm. I fed her the canned duck food with the better consistency, and dressed it up with cooked chicken breast and dehydrated duck hearts. She did eat, but I had to add more hearts to get her to finish.

Took her for a long walk after. Everything stayed down, so I piled her into the car for our shopping trip.

There’s a newish pet food and supplies place in the small strip mall where I usually shop. I decided to check it out, and was happy to find a pretty extensive assortment of food that included a raw duck variety. I bought a sample bag, and gave Herself a few bits when we got home. She sniffed it for a minute or so–it’s a frozen variety, and even though it’s thawed before serving, it’s still colder than her usual food. Anyway, after she figured out what it was, she ate it. Licked the bowl clean, then hung around the kitchen as I put stuff away, coming close and sniffing every can and box. Welp. It was lunchtime anyway, so I gave her a half-cup more, which is one third the daily serving for a pup her size. After a few minutes, another clean bowl and additional sniffing around for more. I stopped there, though, because I didn’t want to overload her after a month of light eating.

I will get a little bit more of this stuff. If she still seems as enthusiastic, I will probably make the switch. Whether it’s upset over all the changes, missing King, food boredom, or all of the above, it doesn’t matter. She needs to eat more.

Hoping the balance of the weekend is nice and boring.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (cloud dream)

Over on Facebook, I posted a link to a Roger Ebert essay on life, death, and things learned in between. I think it a courageous piece by someone who was staring mortality in the face. Lovely, in places. One line in particular stood out for me, a quote by van Gogh. “Just as we take a train to get to Tarascon or Rouen, we take death to reach a star.”

I’m not ready for the stars. I hope to put off that journey for a long time. But it’s a promise to ponder. Something to take out of my back pocket and examine, every so often.

That said, there has been altogether too much bad health news lately, touching people I know and people I’ve only heard of and read about. April has been living up to its reputation as the cruelest month, and it can stop it anytime now.

Gaby seems to be okay. Still not eating at pre-King levels. I had to take her to the vet’s on Monday for an inflamed foot; she was weighed, and looks to have lost a couple of pounds. 43.1, as opposed to the 45.0 she weighed back in August. Vet is not too concerned yet. Gaby could still afford to lose a little more weight–40 lbs would be a good weight for her. She’s playful, acting normally. I take her back in a month for a teeth-cleaning, and if she’s still off her feed and/or has lost too much weight, there will be blood tests, etc. Trying not to think about anything being wrong. She has been through a lot of change lately, and I honestly believe that she ate more when King was around because she knew that if she didn’t eat it, he would. She’s not a food-driven dog–she will eat when she’s hungry and not before, and if the food isn’t to her liking, she will pick. It could be that she’s tiring of the duck & sweet potato, and I will need to find her something else. Not looking forward to the possibility, but if I have to, I guess I will have to.

It’s still chilly, but the Time of Freeze seems to have passed, she said hopefully. Crocuses have bloomed, a little cluster of purple amid the brown. Lawn is greening here and there. Indoors, the sprouts are coming along. Tomatoes are an inch or so high. Basil, a bit shorter. No signs of life yet from the mesclun in the raised bed, but it has only been a week since I planted the seeds.

Looking forward to a long weekend in Chicago at month’s end. I will be spending a day at the Chicago Comic and Entertainment Expo. Not on any panels–attendee only. It will be my first comics convention. No idea what to expect, but I will wear comfy shoes and bring my camera.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (King2)

It’s been almost a week since King passed. Time goes so quickly.

I was picking through photographs, and found my favorite picture of him. Dad was still alive, which means it was taken in Fall 2001 or 2002, which in turn means that King was either 8 months or a year and a half old. He was bounding around the backyard as Dad and I raked leaves. I was toting the camera in hopes of getting a good photo, and took a short break just as King decided to check out the pile I had just raked. He sniffed the leaves, then plopped down in the middle of them and stayed there as they filled in around him.

Puppy in the leaves

Gaby seems fine–she’s eating, playful. Earlier in the week, she would hesitate and look around when I offered her a treat. It seemed to me that maybe she was wondering where King was. She doesn’t appear to be moping or quiet. I took her for a walk this morning, and she was so excited–nose to the ground the entire time…except when she spotted the deer. She really wanted to give chase.

Taking her to the boarding kennel for her temperament check tomorrow. She will be there for a good chunk of the day, which means I will be Solo Kris for the first time in months. I have plenty to do–errands, grocery shopping. The usual chores. But it’s going to feel weird.

I hope things go well. I would really like her to have the chance to play with other dogs every so often.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (snowsuit)

Looks like we got a couple of inches. Still falling lightly. Could get occasional fallage over the next few days, which means that we will have something that approximates snowpack.

Oh well. This is the Midwest in February. I knew the snowfree state couldn’t last.

I am at the garage, getting Kuro’s ::check engine:: situation sorted out and getting a new side mirror installed (to replace the one that got clipped/broken by a passing jerk last week). The drive wasn’t near as bad as I feared–main roads were just wet, with a little mushy churn at the intersections. After I get out of here, to the grocery store I will hie. Then to home.

King had his monthly check-up on Thursday. Still maintaining.

Pasta of some sort for dinner, I think. It’s a red sauce and meatballs kinda day.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.


Nov. 3rd, 2012 03:12 pm
ksmith: (red_wine)

A reminder that my agent, Jenn Jackson, is offering a critique (partial novel ms, up to 50 manuscript pages) in exchange for a Hurricane Sandy relief donation to the Red Cross. The current high bid is $1000, which is awesome. If this is something you’re interested in, please check out Jenn’s guidelines/preferred genres, and maybe give it a shot. Bidding ends at 5pm EST on Monday 5 November.

In other news, it was a Drivey McDriverson day for me. Took the pups to the regular vet–Gaby for her heartworm test, and King for his Adequan shot. Given how the last month has gone, I had my fingers crossed for Gaby’s test result even though we were mosquito-lite this summer and her coat is so thick that the little buzzy bastards would have needed miners’ gear to get to her skin. Lucky for us both, results were negative.

Took the pups home, then bashed off to run errands–post office, gas station, pet supplies big box for pup food, then grocery store for my food. This was the grocery store with the good fish, which is way the hell away from the pet supplies big box. Tollway time. Almost 60 miles round trip, which is a lot of driving for me on a weekend.

Lunch was sautéd sockeye salmon (say that 3x fast) with sautéd spinach and kale and some couscous. Broke out the Ghost Hill pinot noir blanc. Bit fancy for a Saturday, but it’s been a month, dammit.

King continues okay. He acts like an old dog, not a sick dog–a little slow in the mornings, sleeping a bit more, stiff in the hips. But he still loves to eat and bark at the mailman. Still plays with Gaby after dinner. Still acts like King the Love Sponge–pet me, love me, and you may kiss my nose. Let that continue.

In other news, we get our phantom hour back tonight! I missed that thing. Took me weeks to adjust when we lost it last spring.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.


Jul. 16th, 2012 11:08 pm
ksmith: (King2)

So today I took King to the vet’s for an ultrasound.

Good news: nothing leapt out and said “Houston, we have a problem.” Liver appeared okay. Possible cyst on one of his kidneys–vet wasn’t too concerned. Bladder appeared okay. Gall bladder was partially filled with what was described as “sludge,” thickened bile, which the vet said probably resembled sand in water.

Iffy news: a half-inch wide darkened area on the spleen.

For now, we’ll treat the gallbladder–King’s on ursodiol, a med that will dissolve the sludge. In a few weeks, we will redo his bloodwork and see if the liver enzymes have lowered. Fingers crossed that’s the answer.

As for the spleen…spleen cancer is a possibility, especially in older, large-breed dogs like my guy. We may redo the ultrasound in a few weeks to check if the thing has gotten any bigger. Depending on the result, we may biopsy. Not looking forward to the prospect of King going under the knife. But spleen cancer isn’t often diagnosed in an early stage, so we would have to press the advantage if we have it.

King was a good puppy during the testing. He did receive a mild sedative, but even so he could have been twitchy and he wasn’t. The tech said that he lay perfectly still, and she didn’t need any help holding him.

He ate a good dinner. He’s sleeping now.

Tomorrow, it will be four years that the Mickster went in for an ultrasound as preparation for pancreatitis treatment. The vets found tumors in his liver and bladder. They gave him a few weeks, and he lasted six days.

Which was why the prospect of this ultrasound made me a little edgy.

But it looks like we may have options, room to maneuver. Nothing is definite–it could be nothing. We have some time.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.


Jul. 14th, 2012 02:31 pm
ksmith: (lil black car)

Dragged myself out of bed at 6 this morning so I could get Kuro-shinju to the service garage before it opened. It was time for his 90K overhaul, and I confess I was a little worried. Older Subarus are prone to head gasket issues; 1 in 3 were the last odds I heard quoted. With that in mind, I braced myself when the service manager appeared with the written rec for additional service.

Guess it was my lucky day. Kuro just needed some additional filter and fluid changes, some of which will help head off any future head gasket issues. The service manager agreed that while there are known problems with older models, regular maintenance helps prevent or mitigate them. I confess I’m not one of those oil-change-every-3K drivers, but I have taken Kuro to the garage at least a couple of times a year and made sure he had his 30K, 60K, and now 90K overhauls. He’ll crack 100K sometime in the not too distant future, and I would like to see if I can keep him going for another few years. I can think of a few types of cars I would like if I ever hit the lottery or write that major bestseller, but until then I would like to sail the Black Pearl for as long as possible.

And no, I didn’t name him after Captain Jack’s ship. Kuro was christened soon after acquisition in 2002, and he is named after his official paint color, which is Black Diamond Pearl.

Anyway, after three hours at the service center, I did a grocery run. Then home, where I shall remain for the balance of the weekend because I have Things To Do.

In other news, IT RAINED YESTERDAY!! Nor enough to close the inch-wide cracks in the ground, but enough to cool things down, perk up the flowers, and allow for some easy weeding. It looks like a little more rain could be headed this way–there’s a wodge of green on the radar that’s headed my direction, and thunder is rumbling in the distance. Illinois is officially under state-wide drought conditions, and it would take a solid week of showers to close the cracks and revive the lawns around here, but I will take whatever I can get.

In other other news, fingers crossed where King is concerned. He has been much perkier over the last couple of days, and is just about back to his own self. Whatever the ultrasound reveals, let it be readily treatable, if not curable.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (King)

So the good news is that King “passed” the LDDS (low-dose dexamethasone suppression) test. He responded normally, which means he does not have Cushing’s disease. Unfortunately, this means we don’t know what’s causing the elevated liver enzymes.

So, Monday will be Ultrasound Monday. After work, I will take King in to get shaved, gelled, and buzzed. It could simply be age-related changes. Bile-duct irritation/inflammation, leading to liver inflammation (Mickey had this. Cholangeohepatitis. I will add, though, that King isn’t showing those symptoms. No vomiting, and though he is slow some mornings, his appetite is generally good. He just doesn’t want to eat his food as much as Gaby’s food and extraneous treats).

Could be Worse Things, too, but we don’t want to think about those right now.

I will also try to not beat myself up over the fact that I considered starting King on SAMe–another liver supplement–after Mickey died since I had so many blasted bottles of the stuff and the supplementation wouldn’t cause any harm even if King didn’t need it. Maybe I could have headed this off.

Oh well–Life does not come with a reset button. I have been researching liver disease diets, just in case a change is called for. And I happened to have a bottle of milk thistle in the cupboard, so I gave King one. Can’t hurt. Might start to help.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (King)

Vet phoned this morning. King’s liver enzymes are still high.

Wednesday morning, I take him in for a day-long test which will, I hope, tell us 1) if he has Cushing’s and 2) whether it’s adrenal or pituitary.

Vet said that if it is Cushing’s, it’s likely very early because King isn’t showing symptoms other than the bladder infection and wonky bloodwork. However, when I look at this list of symptoms here, I can point to a few more things that may be happening, but are so damned subtle that they could be attributed to old age, arthritis, or any combo thereof.

Anyway, good thoughts appreciated. I know that if he does have it, it can be managed.

If he doesn’t have it, it’s back to square one to figure out what in hell could be going on.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (me)

Amazing how they keep turning up like clockwork. Every seven days.

I have avoided eBay for the last couple of years, but I cracked earlier in the week when some Marimekko bedding came up for auction. I have a comforter in a rare discontinued pattern, and now I’ve found a duvet cover and pillow shams to match. Wrong size, but I can adjust. The bidding ends tonight. Keeping an eye out for sniping.

The pupsters’ vet clinic held a bath & nail clip fundraiser to help cover costs of care for strays and rescues, so I signed my two up. They came home smelling quite fresh. King also had follow-up bloodwork for his thyroid, as well as to check to see if his liver enzymes are still whacked. If they are, we may need to consider further evaluation for Cushings Disease. Keep your fingers crossed that they’re normal, and that his thyroid is the only thing that needs treatment.

Looking forward to Tuesday evening. A friend and I are going to see Natalie Merchant at Ravinia. Funny that I own no 10,000 Maniacs or Merchant recordings, but I like some of the songs enough that I think I will enjoy the concert. Plus, getting out for the evening. I don’t do anywhere near enough of that.

Finally bought some tahini yesterday and made a fresh batch of hummus. I think I prefer the peanut butter version. A bit more depth of flavor. I also added Indian curry paste for heat. So inauthentic, but pretty good. I need to use up the tahini before I switch back to peanut butter, but the combo of that + curry paste should be pretty awesome.

We’ve had a welcome break in the weather. Low 80s yesterday and today, with a light breeze. Unfortunately, 90s again by next weekend, and no rain predicted. We need rain.

ABC Family is holding its monthly Harry Potter Weekend. I think Molly Weasley should be held to account for some of the clothing she inflicted upon her children.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.


Jun. 14th, 2012 10:50 pm
ksmith: (gaby2)

Wackiest dream last night.

Not sure if it was daytime or dusk because a storm was blowing like whoa–horizontal rain, trees bent double by the winds, a real Max and the Typhoon scenario. I opened the back door to let Gaby outside, and the wind caught her as she stepped out onto the deck and carried her off. She was airborne. Out of sight. Gone.

I stood in the doorway and called her name. Not sure how long I was there, but next thing I knew, I could see her flying toward me, still carried by the wind. I caught her and brought her inside. End of dream.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (King2)

So first thing yesterday morning, vet phoned with King’s lab results. I knew as soon as I saw the caller ID on the phone display that the news would not be good. Routine results, they phone over lunch hour. They wait a day or two. But when follow-up is needed, they call right away.

The technical term? King’s bloodwork was wonky. High liver enzymes. High cholesterol. Low thyroid hormone. In addition, urinalysis revealed a bladder infection. Given that boy dogs don’t usually get bladder infections, Vet wanted to follow up with X-rays to look for kidney issues–stones, crystals, etc. King has had Lyme disease, so kidney issues are always a concern.

Took King in this morning for x-rays. To say I was concerned…I mean, he’s an old dog. Who knows what an x-ray might reveal? So many things ran through my head, none of them comforting. There are times when it doesn’t pay to have an imagination.

Cut to the chase–the x-rays were clean. No Bad Things. No kidney stones or crystals, either, which were what Vet was concerned about. King does have arthritis of the spine and a hip issue, but we knew that. Still doesn’t explain his bladder infection, though. More on that later.

So. King’s on antibiotics for the infection, and levo for hypothyroidism. He’s also on a pain med. Luckily, he’s pretty easy to pill–just plunk the things in a mound of wet food and hold out your hand.

He was sedated for the x-rays, and is currently sleeping that off. Before that, he ate some breakfast.

The only fly in the ointment is if the bloodwork doesn’t normalize. This might indicate Cushing’s disease, which would also explain the bladder infection. Cushing’s is treatable but still not the best diagnosis in the world. But I don’t want to worry about that until it becomes a real issue.

King’s home. For now, I’ll take it.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

My old guy

Jun. 3rd, 2012 12:52 am
ksmith: (King)

It was a rough week, at least at the start. King was off his food for a few days in that he didn’t want to eat breakfast. He did eat his full portion of food over lunch and dinner, but even so he wasn’t right. Quieter than normal. Slept a lot.

I talked to the vet earlier in the week. One possibility was the blast of heat we had over last weekend. King is not a fan of heat, and given his age, you wouldn’t expect him to handle it as well as he used to. Some support for that in the fact that he’s pretty much back to normal now that the weather’s cooled–bouncier, barkier, and back on schedule with food.

Even so, I took him to the vet today anyway. We’re having bloodwork done as well as a thyroid check–King has gained a few pounds and he isn’t as active as he used to be, and while it could just be because he’s old and needs less food, it could also be hypothyroidism.

We will see what the bloodwork shows. Cross your fingers for my old guy.

Gaby came along to provide moral support, and wound up getting a check-up. Her teeth need cleaning, so I scheduled that. Bloodwork’s getting done.

They’re both sleeping now. Completely knackered, the pair of them.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (King)

Just stopped by to open the windows and give the place an airing.

Came home after work to find a bit of a fraught situation–King edgy and clingy, drinking lots of water. Water splattered all over the dining room floor. In addition, when I went into the living room I found the television pulled away from the wall and the cable box unplugged. Meanwhile, in the dining room, I found the grow light unplugged and the power strip into which it had been plugged yanked out of the wall and lying on the floor.

I was understandably upset by this. I am already concerned about King’s old-agedness, and at first I thought he’d had some sort of fit. I wiped up the splatters and gave him time to settle down. After an hour or so, I fed him. He ate normally. Meanwhile, I pondered.

Then I remembered the fly.

When I came home at lunchtime, I left the back door open a little too long and let in a honking big fly. I tried to swat it and failed, and since I had to get back to work I left it in the house with the pups. I should have known better because King goes after flies. What I think happened is that he tried to catch it in the living room, chased it behind the TV, and got tangled in the cable box cord thus yanking it out of the wall. Same thing in the dining room with the power strip and the grow light. King got tangled in the power strip cord–the strip was atop a small table–yanked it out of the wall and pulled the strip down on his head. At the same time, he managed to pull the grow light cord out of the power strip. Luckily, that didn’t topple on him as well, although it was resting a mite crooked on its shelf.

After all that, King still didn’t get the fly until a few minutes after I got home. He was pacing back and forth, spotted Fly bouncing off the backdoor glass, and snapped it out of the air, nervy nerves and all.

The TV still works. So do the power strip and grow light. King is currently lying on the living room rug, looking as though he has finally settled down.

Gaby was completely unaffected by all of this. Just thought you’d like to know.


Mirrored from Kristine Smith.


Apr. 10th, 2012 09:51 pm
ksmith: (gaby2)

On Sunday the 1st, during my visit to the Portland Powell’s with friend D, I received a call from the folks caring for Gaby to let me know that she hadn’t eaten since I dropped her off the previous Thursday afternoon. She had eaten breakfast and lunch that day at home, and nothing had appeared amiss. Now, she would sniff the bowl, sometimes nibble a bit, then walk away.

I confess this took the wind out of my sails. She had stayed at this place before, and while she had occasionally skipped a meal, well, she does that at home. She still ate most of her food. I worried that stress might trigger her IBD. I worried about a lot of things. I had recently switched her food, but had provided enough of her old food to see her through her stay just in case. They tried it. Nope. Hamburger? A nibble. Treats? A nosh. Prescription food that they picked up from my vet? Nope. In all other ways, she was fine. Loved her activities. Bouncy and tail-waggy. She just refused to eat.

During this search for something/anything Gaby would eat, she vomited bile, the sign of an empty stomach. At this point, I considered cutting my vacation short and going home even though I was having a great time. (It was at this time that my friends’ cat, Singer, decided to settle into my lap. I swear that cat knew I was upset.) I talked with an animal behaviorist friend of D & D’s. I talked with my vet.

Finally, the following Thursday, they tried cooked chicken and rice. Gaby ignored the rice, but ate some of the chicken. Problem solved, one hoped. I was concerned about the transition from duck to chicken and whether she would even eat the duck food again, but first things first. She needed to eat.

I picked up the Dynamic Duo today. King led me out to the car with intent, then whimpered when I shut him in the car and LEFT HIM BEHIND AGAIN to go get Gaby. When she saw me, Herself wriggled and rolled over while I rubbed her tum and told her that I would always come back for her. Apparently she was a little diva. Her eating remained spotty, and she often had to be fed by hand. I discussed future options with caregiver–different feeding methods, etc–then headed home.

At home, I released the hounds of Worry and Self-Recrimination. They ran around, drank water, peed, sniffed, and ran some more. When they came inside, I tested Gaby by giving her a hypoallergenic biscuit, which she chomped as she always did. Later, she vacuumed a lunch of her usual duck & sweet potato. She declined dinner, but she spent most of the afternoon napping so we could blame fatigue for this refusal. She doesn’t eat when she’s tired. Definitely not a food-driven dog.

Later, she made ready to jump on the couch, then stopped. Something was different–I had removed the sheet that covers her end of the couch because it needed a wash. Gaby looked at the uncovered end, then at me, and being a good servant, I dragged myself downstairs and retrieved the clean sheet. Spread it over the couch. Herself pronounced it good and has been dozing off and on ever since. King has been trying to grab some couch time all day, but Gaby ain’t budging.

I’ve heard it said that dogs have owners while cats have staff. I think Gaby was raised with cats.

Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

ksmith: (homealone)

…is always hell on wheels.

Started the day with 5 meetings on my calendar. I never have 5 meetings in one day. I’m not in the wall-to-wall-meetings bracket. But one turned into an email/phone call and another turned out to be pretty short, so it wasn’t too bad. I still have some day job things to do this evening, so not quite out of the woods yet. But I got through the end of the quarter and received a nice email of the sort one files away, so it was all good.

Laundry this evening–third load is in the washer. I have mentally packed, although the actual drag-up-the-suitcase-from-downstairs-and-fold-and-sort may be put off until tomorrow evening. Received the confirms that CPA e-filed taxes, so YEA!! Didn’t think I would get through that with time to spare.

It would have been nice to sleep in tomorrow morning, but I have a physical therapy session scheduled for 7am. I don’t think I ever mentioned that. Decided to find out whether strengthening my knees would help with occasional bouts of can’t-run-anymore. We’re in Week 3, and I think it’s helping. Jogged 20 minutes on Monday without pain. Keeping my fingers crossed that I can keep off the weight I’ve lost until the knees get straightened out or I give up and give ellipticals a try.

How can it be 730pm already?


Mirrored from Kristine Smith.

April 2017

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