Wardrobe Wednesday

The last few days have been quite hot around here.

 Yesterday was no exception, further demonstrated by Flash who couldn't keep his giant, panting tongue inside his mouth.

The girls wanted me to take them to beach yesterday after school, but instead they settled for dragging out the blue plastic pool and splashing around until dinner time in last year's one size too small swim suits..

Today will be the last of the super warm temps for a while, with a giant storm and cold front moving in right now, putting on one heck of a light show outside.  This morning, lightning knocked out our power for 4 hours which in turn, made me ask myself a very important question, how do I get my car out of the garage during a power outage when I have an ELECTRIC door opener?  Turns out garage door opener manufacturers thought of such a situation and added a handy rope to pull so you can manually open your door and get your car out.  First time I ever had to use it, and when I returned home, the power was back on.  Hopefully it will stay on tonight!

Wardrobe Wednesday

I actually had a few options for Wardrobe Wednesday this week.  I could have taken a photo of all the shoes Flash has chewed apart in recent days, but that would be incredibly depressing.  I also could have posted a photo I took of Binny fully clothed wearing an extra pair of bright blue undies and one of my bras on the outside of her clothing, but oddly enough, I've already done that. 

Instead, I will offer up a mix of Flash's destruction and Binny's knack of finding a wardrobe possibility in almost anything.

The girls brought a plastic inflated ball in from outside for Flash to play with and within about 10 seconds of him noticing its existence, he popped it.  As I walked over to pick it up and throw it in the trash next to my favorite leather sandals he ripped apart just hours earlier, Binny thrust her index finger in the air and said "Ooh! Can I have it?"  Minutes later, it was a hat.

Headlock

Magnified

My grandmother stored her car here for the winter and while she was here over the weekend, she cleaned it out.  Among other things like maps and a pile of empty plastic grocery bags, were 2 umbrellas and a giant magnifying glass.  Mae called dibs on the purple paisley umbrella and Binny scored the magnifying glass.  My grandfather had a hard time seeing later in life so he always had a magnifying glass nearby.  Grandma Dee probably has no idea how many hours of fun Binny will have with her new toy.  If Flash doesn't get a hold of it and chew it to bits first.

Saturday

Best Buddies

Flash And His Cone

Poor Flashy was so excited Friday morning when I hooked up the leash to his collar and escorted him out to the car. He loves to ride in the car. Most times when he goes for a ride in the car, we go somewhere fun, like ice skating over at Grandpa's. Not this time though.

Even when I put him on the scale at the vet's office, he let out a little excited pee as the vet tech rubbed his head and told him how cute he is. He had no idea what he was in for, but in the end it's all for his own good.

He was neutered (ouch) and had all 4 dewclaws (thumbs) removed (quadruple ouch). The dewclaws were optional but since we live out in the country (read: lots of things to get into) and since he's a very active dog, we decided to have it done so they don't become a problem in the future. Dogs with dewclaws can get them caught and injured and while many dogs have the dewclaws clipped off in the first few days of life, our mutt didn't have that service being born in a calf barn and all with very little human intervention until we picked him up and brought him home with us. So Friday was the day.

Friday afternoon when I brought him home he was groggy and confused and not happy about having a giant cone around his head but after he slept off the anesthesia, he started to perk up. The vet was concerned that he'd be in a lot of pain the first few days but since we've been keeping up with his medication, he's been fine. He'd like to be running around playing fetch and hopping up on the sofa (a no-no anyway but try and tell him that). To amuse himself he's been running into the back of our legs with his giant cone, bruising all of us behind the knees.

The cone needs to stay on for at least 2 weeks until the stitches in his front legs can be removed.
2 weeks is a long time for an energetic puppy.

If Flash Could Talk

Our not so little puppy is finally starting to learn some of the house rules. For a while there I'm pretty sure he thought his name was Dammit Flash. He now knows that peeing on the floor makes me very upset and usually involves him getting pulled around by his collar, a nose rub in the carpet/ rug/ clothing the girls left laying on the floor that was way too easy to pee on without making that telltale splash noise, ending with a walk out the back door. He discovered that standing by the door and barking or ringing the bell is a good way to avoid such unpleasant activities. His biting and chewing are getting better as well but not before he chewed off the upholstery on the end of the foot rest of our recliner and pulled up a silver dollar sized section of carpet out of the living room.

Who's a naughty good boy?

ME, ME, ME! IS THAT A BEGGIN' STRIP? I'M A GOOD BOY!

LOOK AT ME! I CAN DO THIS STAY THING ALL DAY IF YOU WANT. AS LONG AS THAT BEGGIN' STRIP IN YOUR LEFT HAND WILL BECOME MINE IN THE NEAR FUTURE.

WELL, ACTUALLY I NEED THAT BEGGIN' STRIP RIGHT NOW!

LOOK! I CAN LAY DOWN TOO, JUST LIKE YOU ASKED. DOES THAT MEAN I GET ANOTHER ONE?

YES, I DO THINK MY LEFT LEG MAKES A GREAT REST FOR MY UNIT.

YOU'RE NOT GOING TO CUT MY NAILS AGAIN ARE YOU? NO REALLY, THAT SUCKS.

ARE WE DONE YET?

What's Brown And White And Shits On My Floor?

A puppy!
We had been checking the classifieds and shelter websites for a few weeks and finally on Saturday, since it was raining and I had to cancel my afternoon outdoor photo shoot, we decided to call on a litter of puppies and drive half-way across the state to go look at them.

We knew we wanted to start from scratch with a brand new puppy, but we didn't really have a preference of breed. The Gardener wanted something smaller than our last 2 dogs but not rodent dog small. I wanted another big dog, something 100 pounds or more. The girls just wanted a dog.

After two hours of driving in the rain, we arrived at the dairy farm where the puppies were. We took one look at the little fur balls playing in the calf shed and knew we would be bringing one home with us. There were six puppies left from a litter of ten(!) St. Bernard-Blue Heeler mix mutts. The mom was the Blue Heeler and the dad was a big and filthy (again with the rain) St. Bernard. The puppies were all so cute that it was hard to choose one but eventually after looking them all over and tipping them up to see which ones had the equipment we were looking for (not that it matters since he will be neutered when the time comes), I picked this little boy and that was it. He was ours! Well, after I paid for him, of course.
The first whole day he had no name. We all just called him Puppy while trying out every name we could think of. Binny came up with some silly suggestions like car and tree and cat and mailbox. Finally, the next day, the Gardener had a Dukes of Hazzard flashback moment and started calling him Flash. You know, Sheriff Roscoe's lazy Basset Hound?
So far he's been about 70/30 with the whole housebreaking thing. Good thing he's small and his messes are small too. Every time we take him outside, he goes, but sometimes he'll have just gone out, then five minutes later squat and pee on the rug. Then back outside. He'll get it eventually...

So lets hear it! How cute is he?

If It Wasn't For Bad Luck...

...I wouldn't have no luck at all.

Last week at our house was a little nuts. Still nuts even. Right now I'm sitting at the Library using the Internet and touching the greasy keys that have been touched by Lord only knows how many people because our computer is sitting in pieces on our kitchen counter. The motherboard slowly died by first making connecting to the Internet impossible then giving us the blue screen of death. Seriously, that's the technical term. Either that or those geeky guys over at our local geek squad just love to be dramatic. Anyhow, after we figured out what was wrong, a friend ordered the part for us and we should be back online in a few days. My husband is convinced he can swap out the old motherboard for the new one. We'll see...

We had another blow last week as well. Less than 24 hours after I posted those photos of our dog Rocko wearing a hat, he was gone. Wednesday night when I came home from the farm, I noticed that he was laying out in the back porch and not in the kitchen with the Gardener and the girls. Odd. it looked like he hadn't eaten yet that day so I made up a bowl of his dog food with some warm chicken broth poured on top. Generally that's his favorite, but he wouldn't touch it. I cut up some leftover medium rare steak from the night before and he reluctantly ate it. Otherwise, he looked fine and we thought that he possibly ate something that didn't agree with him and if he wasn't better in the morning, I would take him in. By morning he was so weak he couldn't walk on his own. His ears were cold and the color had drained out of him. I called the vet right away to get him an appointment. I also called my brother to come and help me. He conveniently stayed home sick from work the night before (he's works nights), and by morning he was rested up and feeling better. Plus he loves me. The vet ran a blood test and some x-rays and determined that Rocko had some internal bleeding. He said it was most likely cancerous tumor on his spleen. The vet said if the surgery was successful yet cancerous, he would only have a few months left before the cancer took him. He had 9 good years and we didn't want him to suffer so I asked the vet to put him down. It felt like the right thing to do but it was still hard to process it all since it happened so fast. My brother and I both had tears in our eyes when we said goodbye to him. Goodbyes suck.

The vet's office gave us his body with no questions (I thought maybe they would have rules against this) so we could bury him out at my in-laws' house next to Oliver. By noon, Rocko was in the ground and the three of us, my brother, my father-in-law and myself, cracked a beer and talked about how just yesterday, or last week we all saw a healthy and happy old pooch, and now he's gone. So quick. Then, like freakin' clockwork, the school called and said Mae wasn't feeling well and had a slight fever so I should come pick her up. It was a day of not being able to catch my breath. Thankfully, not all days are like that and things are looking up. Mae's bug went as quick as it came without having to go to the doctor and we're talking about getting a puppy. Yay!

Since I'm computerless this week, I won't be doing Garden Monday or Wardrobe Wednesday. I'm crossing my fingers for next week. I'm also thinking I should get off of this computer and wash my hands. The parking meter is probably expired too. A parking ticket would round things out nicely, don't you think?

Wardrobe Wednesday

I was hoping to snap a photo of Mae this morning before school, but with all of the craziness over finding an outfit perfect for an 8th birthday and packing up 2 dozen cookie pops to share with her class, it didn't happen.

Instead, you get my gray faced Boxer wearing one of the girls' hats.
He's a good sport to put up with me. Plus, he knows who fries the bacon in this house.

* To play along, post a Wardrobe Wednesday photo to your blog, link to this post and add your link to the linky at the bottom of this post.

Oliver 2000-2010

He just wasn't getting any better so last night the Gardener and his dad laid Oliver to rest out in an area at my in-laws' house that is now more than ever labeled as the pet cemetery. The Gardener crossed Oliver's big giant paws for him and placed his purple rubber ducky right in front of his nose, the way he liked it.
We're all sad. I cried off and on all day yesterday and couldn't even go along to deliver him to his final resting place. I stayed at home and did some theraputic weeding out in the garden. The Gardener and his dad had a hard time with it too while my mother-in-law took the kids out for ice cream.
The kids have actually been handling this very well. Binny knew he was sick and knew he was going to be buried at grandma and Grandpa's house but when I talked to her about how it was all going to work out, she did start to tear up. She put on her tough girl face for me as my eyes were filling with tears and insisted that her eyes were watering because she was tired. Mae too, so strong and brave for the adults. As we weep over the loss of our sweet Oliver I can't help but remember what a precious part of this family he was.

He will be missed.

Oliver

I should be weeding the garden or planning lunches for tomorrow's field trips but instead I'm sitting in front of my computer, eating a bowl of cottage cheese with peaches and listening to the constant chatter from a sick seven year old that came home from school early this morning after she squeaked out mild fever in the health room. Just a cold, she'll be fine. Although it does worry me when she comes down with something this time of year. Two years in a row Mae was hospitalized in the spring. Just touches a nerve I guess. She had an appointment with the Immunologist back in April and he said everything looked good. She will have one more follow up next year but if nothing changes and she continues to be healthy *fingers crossed* he'll cut her loose and she won't have to go back and no more blood draws!

Oliver, our geriatric St. Bernard on the other hand has not been feeling so well lately. I've been avoiding blogging about it because I knew it would be hard for me to get through it while wiping the tears from my eyes. He's been slowing down for a while now but lately he's been having trouble breathing. So bad that 2 weeks ago the Gardener had to carry him out to the car and take him to the vet to have him checked out. He has Laryngeal Paralysis which basically means that his larynx is not opening and closing as well as it should. He also had some fluid in his lungs so the vet gave him a diuretic and some steroids for the larynx. It helped for a little while but the vet made it clear that he can't stay on the meds for too long. There is a surgery for this condition but the vet didn't think he would make it through the anesthesia. He's just too old.

The hot and humid weather we have been experiencing over the last few weeks has been especially hard on him. He was panting and wheezing so bad on Monday that I pulled out the nebulizer we keep in the bathroom closet and used some leftover breathing treatment meds from when Binny had RSV as a baby. I know totally unorthodox, not to mention expired, although they were still sealed in a foil pouch, so I'm sure it was fine. He sat still for the treatment as I stroked his gigantic head while blowing Albuterol in his face. Short of calling the vet at 9pm on a HOLIDAY, it was my only choice. I think it helped. If nothing else just lying still on the floor with him helps to calm him down. His energy level is way down too but he still loves to follow me around in the yard while I'm gardening.

I'm going to miss him terribly but it isn't fair to keep him around if he's suffering. The Gardener and I know it's coming but we're both having a hard time saying goodbye. He was our first. I remember the day we picked him up and shelled over 500 bucks for the cutest little ball of fur you've ever seen. He and his 7 brothers and sisters running around outside with their beautiful mother Tara Rose and their 210 pound father Teddy Bear. It was when Teddy came over and whizzed all over the hood of our car just by lifting his enormous leg, that the Gardener and I looked at each other and simultaneously thought what the hell are we getting ourselves into?


The first few years were a little crazy considering his body grew like he was ingesting gallons of protein drink on a daily basis while still having the mentality of a puppy. Plenty of shredded shoes in our house. He has also been known to chew on table legs and wooden stairs. He thinks tennis balls are chew toys and thinks other dogs are stupid to go chase ofter them then take them back to the lunatic human who keeps throwing it. No, Oliver would rather take it directly from your hand, go lay in the shade and chew on it until it pops then rip it all apart and leave the carcass on the front lawn. He has peed on every flooring surface in every single house we've ever lived in. He has dug holes large enough to bury an entire body and he's the head of our personal security team. I feel so safe with him and Rocko around. They love all of us so much that it doesn't even seem fair. They are always around and as loyal as a dog can be. It just makes me sad that his life is coming to an end. It also worries me that Rocko will be alone once Oliver is gone. How will he take it?

Oliver's favorite place to be is at my in-laws house. The first time he ever waded into their pond on a hot summer day several years ago, he was in love. Ever since he was a pup, his hips were weak and lots of exercise was hard on him but he loves to swim. We even bought him a doggy life jacket to help him float easier. He would swim around all day if we let him. Last summer while the kids were swimming in the pond, Oliver decided that he would play lifeguard and rescue the children when they fell into the water. The kids didn't actually fall so much as jump off the end of the dock but Oliver couldn't be convinced of their safety. He would start barking then run around to the beach and take off into the water swimming out to one of the girls, grab on to the back of her life jacket with his big yet gentle grip and tow her back to shore.

That's where we plan to bury him, also because my father-in-law is the only one around with a machine big enough to dig a hole large enough for a Saint Bernard.

We're all going to miss you big guy!

It's Saint Bernard Shaving Time Again

It was due time for the Gardener to pull out the cow clippers (Seriously, I'm not joking one bit) and a giant garbage bag and start shaving our 140 pound Saint. The Oliver Bunnies were getting so bad that even if I vacuumed on a daily basis, I would still see at least one or two big ones float across the kitchen in any given day. Not to mention, I gave the dogs a couple of knee bones that came with our recent beef share and Oliver had his front legs so filthy dirty from the combination of whatever sorts of fluids and fats are in the beef bones and his own saliva that he was barely even allowed into the house. Trust me, it was pretty gross. The haircut went a long way but I think a nice bubble bath and a nail trimming are order now that the bones are gone.

I guess I should just be thankful that he doesn't sleep in our bed or climb on the furniture.