Because no holiday weekend is complete without an injury

I will save you some panic time, because the injured is not human. And if you know our canine history - I bet you can guess which dog is the one who is hurt.

We took the dogs to GUL and Kimmie's house on Sunday to play with their dogs - and all was well in whoville. The little dogs and the big dogs got along swimmingly. We couldn't have asked for a better time amongst them. And there were chases around the yard and one of those chases ended with a splash.

I wasn't watching and all I heard was a splash. And I looked around and did not see Scarlett anywhere. And then I saw Clinton looking over the edge of the bulkhead. And Scarlett is standing below on slippery slimy rocks. Shaking, scared as hell. After a minute or so it became pretty clear that she was not going to do anything about getting her own butt out of the lake. She had found a place to stand and that was it. She wasn't even willing to try to make her way down to the place where it would have been easier to get her out of the water.

I was the only one wearing shoes - although they were flip flops, they were better than nothing. So I jumped down and picked her 78 lb chubby butt up. I normally balk at picking up things like 40 lb bags of dog food, but was somehow able to stand on slippery rocks and lift her enough that Clinton and Lynn were able to pull her the rest of the way out.

She limped a little, but after a while seemed ok. So we thought she was fine. But by that evening she was slower than normal and the swelling had begun.

So as it turns out, the likely injury to a person or dog who falls 4 feet off a bulkhead on to slimy slippery rocks is a sprained ankle. Which I suspected. The vet also sustained a similar injury to his own ankle in a similar manner (although not this past weekend, and also probably not while chasing another dog around.) But her ankle was still so swollen still this morning, 48 hours post injury, that I thought it would behoove us to have it checked out and also to find out if they did indeed have something better than baby aspirin to give her. And they do, so he prescribed that and he gave us the admittedly tall orders of keeping her calm, for 2 weeks. So she'll be on a leash and house and/or crate bound for 2 weeks.

Pet insurance would have been a great idea for this dog, but a complete waste of money on the other one. And from what I hear, they have some pretty big preexisting condition clauses, and I'm almost positive that if we apply now for her, they'll be like "we're sorry your dog is entirely too injury-prone and stupid, we will not insure her."

That part aside, it was a good weekend, and Landon was happy 95% of the time.

He got to ride a jet ski, which he may or may not tell you is a boat (a red boat and a white boat and a black boat) and depending on which way the wind is blowing and how the stars are aligned with the planets, he may or may not have had fun while on said boat/jet ski. Not that I was allowed to go over 8-9 miles an hour.


Oh, and look, a new life jacket, because heaven forbid we remember the one hanging on our back porch, that we ALL looked at as we walked out of the house on Friday - to go on a trip - to a LAKE!!!

All in all it wasn't a bad weekend or anything, but part of me is glad to finally be sitting back at my desk right now.

Me Hoeping

(I'm Helping)

I don't even know where to start. Except maybe to start at the end and work backwards.

I'm sick again. I swear to God, if I don't get well soon, I'm going to kill someone. My lymph nodes in my neck as so swollen and my throat hurts so bad, I feel like if I still had tonsils they'd be touching each other. I'm wavering between going to the work clinic and complaining until they give me some of their nifty throat deadening lozenges and just waiting it out and seeing if I'm still sick on Friday and going to see my real doctor. The jury is still out. I think I'll probably make a decision mid morning.

Yesterday we went to buy some herbs and tomato plants. The pots were apparently in Clint's way in the garage, and had to be moved. I already had a kickin' rosemary plant, but everything else herby I had was dead. So now I have basil, sage, thyme, and flat leaf parsley. And 3 different kinds of tomatoes. We planted 2 tomatoes upside down and 1 right side up. I also have seeds for chives and dill - but I honestly don't have a lot of hope for those two - My thumb is somewhere between brown and green. If someone else got it to be like 3 inches tall, I might be able to keep it alive, but I have very little faith in my nurturing from a seed abilities.

We also put some wooden stakes in a couple plants and wrapped them in some kind of plant binding stuff to keep them growing up instead of out.

Scarlett would like to know why we let him carry that stick around.

Saturday night I got a call from the fraud prevention department at Clinton's allowance bank. Someone got his debit card number and went on a huge spending spree. Like a total of over $2000. And they're going to get away with it, while we don't have to pay for anything that wasn't ours, the bank said it's too hard to find the people who do this, so nothing will happen. We're trying not to think about the AT&T guy who was in the attic the day before this spending spree and how he may have had access to actually get a card out of one of our old file boxes. They also said that the technology is such that it could have been anyone, because all they need is the number from the card and they can make their own card.

We had Shane power wash the outside of our house and all concrete. Which is awesome. Our house, by the way, is a cream and brown color and the brick is kind of a peachy pink - not green. Who'd a thunk it?

Which brings us back to Friday, when I worked most of the day on completing something that by the time I finished at the end of the day we got an order handed down from the client, that said "no, thanks, we want to wait."

And now, I think I'm going to call the health clinic, because I'm not sure I can take this much longer.

Monthly Newsletters: Special Dog Editions #48 and #60

Dear Scarlett,

We did not get you until the weekend of Labor day the year you were born, but your birthday is today and you turn 5 years old. You were supposed to be a Cocker Spaniel. In fact we had gone back to Canton to buy a certain Cocker Spaniel, but when we got there, your dad convinced me to look and see if any Boxers were around.

And there you were. At the bottom of the puppy pile, and you've been pretty submissive to other dogs ever since.

Right off the bat you sat in an ant bed to pee, you had demodex, and I was kind of over reactive, so your vet bills were astronomical. You are still our most expensive pet and despite the fact that you think you are a person and are apparently going through some kind of teenage angst and not minding. I would not trade you for anything.

You have your own OCD issues, you are stuck in a room if a broom stick is laying across the threshold, you prefer it if we don't move anything around.

You have tremendous patience for Landon, and nothing in this world could have predicted how much you would love him. But you do, and that alone is worth all the vet bills I have ever paid.

Love,

Mom

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Dear Fiona,

You were supposed to be a TV. There was a sign on an electric pole on our way out of the neighborhood about boxers. We didn't find what we wanted in a TV, so when we got back to the neighborhood, I called about the boxers. You were born on July 5th, but we didn't get you until early October.

There were 3 left when we got there, but one was spoken for. Clinton chose you of the two remaining. We didn't have a crate for you, so we asked them to keep you a couple more days, so we could get the supplies needed to bring you home. When we got home that evening, Scarlett went crazy. She smelled you on us, and she started looking everywhere for you. And that's how we knew we had to go back and get you.

You actually made life a little easier for us. I thought 2 dogs would be harder than one, but it turns out you wore Scarlett out with all your energy, and that meant we had less crazy to deal with. Back then we joked that we had a dog and our dog had a dog. Now we joke that one of you (Scarlett) thinks she's a person, but that you know you're a dog.

When you came home, you had never been on grass before. And while playing on it was fine with you, you had been used to doing your business on newspapers on the floor. So in addition to normal house breaking, it took us a while to get you to do your business on the grass instead of on the concrete.

You also love Landon, but you have a far lower threshold in the tolerance department for him, so when he annoys you, you retreat. We truly appreciate that, even if you never seem to get recognized for it.

Love,

Mom

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UPDATE ON NEIGHBOR DOG:

I got home last night to a notice on my front door. Animal Control had been by, but the officer they sent only had our address, and since he didn't see any issues, he left a note to call him. I talked to him last night and he will come check on the dog this morning. I spoke with the neighbor on the other side of this woman, and she will be home tomorrow and is going to come out and speak to the police when they get there. She and her husband are hopeful that they will take the dog. They said they have seen the woman there more often that I have, but that what she does is come around at midnight with a 20 lb bag of dog food and dumps it in a bowl and fills a bucket of water for the dog for the week. I guess we'll see.

Lake Dogs

One of the perks of my parents’ Lake House is that it’s secluded enough that we can let our dogs run free and we don’t worry about them. Everyone out there has dogs, and everyone out there lets them run around, so they’re on the look out for them when driving.

For a dog that will absolutely not deign to enter the pool, Fiona LOVES the lake. Probably because it’s a gradual entry instead of a step.

They will run and jump and play for hours and hours.

Until they fall over from sheer exhaustion.

Dude, where's my camera?

Unfortunately I believe it's probably on my kitchen counter.

We went to GBC this weekend to visit the Wood side grandparents. It was such nice weather we spent a lot of time outside. Landon played in his sandbox, he tried to pick every one of those little white onion-y smelling flowers in the yard.

And after watching Grandpa Wood open the gate just once on the back porch? The back porch is no longer baby proof. Fiona allowed him to think he was in control of her while he held the leash, she never even pulled, and she just stood nearby and walked where he walked.

There was some minimal drama - Scarlett got her leash stuck between the boards on the porch and nearly choked to death. It took two of us tackling her to get her to relax her front legs so we could get her free. Lesson learned, leashes come off on the porch now.

Landon's great-grandparents were celebrating their 62nd wedding anniversary this weekend. So the family surprised them by coming to church with them.

Grandma had made Grandpa and Landon matching shirts - which they both wore to the service. They were both very handsome. I have a picture, I promise.

It's such a small church, they sang Happy Birthday to someone and then to the same tune, Happy Anniversary to them. There was clapping, which Landon joined in on exactly 30 seconds after everyone finished.

He got to put the money in the offering plate, except he likes to put stuff in other stuff over and over again - it's a constant struggle to get him to STOP FEEDING THE DOGS please! And he followed the offering plate down the row; he wanted to put more money in. Or more likely take back that money and put it in again.

I tried keeping him busy with the prayer request cards and fans and the hymnals. And when that failed, vanilla wafers. Except that he kind of wanted everyone to know how great the cookies tasted. Shrieking joy!

He was only able to contain himself for about half the service, and then we retired to the parking lot, as there were a lot of birds to chase and rocks to rearrange - in fact we still have one of those rocks - it was the only one he did not want to throw back down - nothing like stealing from the church.

We tried to come back in, so I could hear some of the service, but that was when he discovered the joy of pushing the buttons on the water fountain. It's quite exciting to push a button and have water shoot out of the little hole! We should tell people, they might not know! So we had to go back outside.

He fell asleep on the way back to the house, where we were supposed to have a family lunch, but his sleepiness made up our mind to head on back to Houston.

Of course, he didn't stay asleep for long, and about half way home decided his shirt was bothering him, so he rode the rest of the way half naked.

Hugging Puppies, a primer

So, you've probably seen the giant dog hugging a baby email that's been circulating.


In contrast, we have a baby who wants so badly to hug his dogs.


Step 1. You must start off in an excellent mood. Dogs generally do not want you to hug them if you approach them screaming.

Step 2. Find a target...I mean dog. Open your arms wide for the approach.

Step 3. Hug. Please note that some dogs stay still and let you hug them for as long as you want.

And some dogs believe that they are in some kind of calf wrangling competition and try and squirm away.

UGH

Scarlett ate a Roundup laden leaf and we've been dealing with the ensuing crap from that (pun intended) ever since. FYI, if your dog eats a leaf on which you have sprayed roundup - it is not poisonous. But it will upset their gastrointestinal workings. And you may have to clean their crate 2 nights running (possibly more, it's just that we're only working with 2 days worth of data here). And throw away 2 blankets and a towel. And wake up at 3 am, when they urgently need to go out (or alternatively you can clean up 2 piles of runny poo and 2 puddles of pee the next morning - your choice.)



I think we're on the backend of this illness (pun intended again.) Thank god.



And now that I've grossed you out, here's cute picture to tide you over until I think of something less gross to write about.



(I heard on the radio this morning that kids are starting to like classic rock because of the game Guitar Hero...classic rock like Pearl Jam...Pearl Jam is considered classic rock now? How old am I?)

His first chore

Landon has decided on his own first chore. He feeds the dogs. Kind of.

First, he grabs a fistfull of dog food out of the bin in the cabinet and puts it in the scoop.

Then he walks around talking about how to mix the food up, like a good little Food Network star in the making.

Most of the time he delivers the food to their bowls (3 pellets at a time), but sometimes you just need a little change of scenery. So, last night he found a good picnic spot in the middle of the kitchen.

And fed Scarlett one piece of food at a time.

He takes his job very seriously.

You would think

From this picture you might deduce that the car rides to and from Gun Barrel were all peachy keen.

It just so happens that I only took a picture of the good part.

Today's Lessons (#3 & #4)

When you're feeling like you’re missing something when you leave in the morning, you probably are. I normally take 4 bottles, 4 lids, and ice packs with me to work for pumping. One of the lids I brought yesterday was actually a ring – the kind you hold the nipple on the bottle with. And no ice packs. Thank god we have ice at work and I was able to pack a grocery bag with it. And I made the 3 bottles I did have work. Oh and I sent Landon off without a sippy cup – not that he uses it really.

Additional lesson, when your dogs are behaving themselves so well at dinner that you wonder where they are. Confirm where BOTH of them are, not just one. One asleep under the table, one outside eating grass until she pukes.

One week, Uncensored

You would think the insides of a tomato would be juicy and gooey and seedy. You’d be wrong. Tomatoes are filled with red sand and stuck with pins. They also have a strawberry attached, in case you want to separate your needles. The amount of sand will lightly cover your entire loft and living room. And they are known enemies of boxers. Ask me how I know! I only wish we had pictures for this.

I had a bridal shower to attend on Saturday. It was 2 houses down from me and I left my invitation at work. But I figured it would be at 2. 2 o’clock seems reasonable, right? I sent Clint off with Landon to Jay’s to go help pick up a deep freeze and generally hang out with them. I didn’t want to be the first one there, so I looked down the street and there were a lot of cars already in the driveway, so I headed on over. It was not at 2, those were the cars of the 6 hostesses. Yep 6. And it was at 3. I showed up at 2 and THEY WOULDN’T LET ME LEAVE. So I listened to a bunch of older ladies talk about their daughter’s pregnancies and what I can only imagine are yippy little dogs, and how embarrassed they are that the girl dog “Abby,” HORROR of HORRORS lifts her leg to pee. They asked how I knew Jennifer and I told them. And then another one asked and I told her, and then another one asked and I told her – even though all these women were in the room EVERY TIME I told the story.

In hanging out with Jay, Clint found out that one of Landon’s favorite toys while over there is a nylon skimmer.

And that Noah has his own slotted spoon. Not to be outdone, I gave him a slotted spoon for home. I don’t even know why we buy toys. That spoon kept him occupied for several hours. It’s a perfectly good pretend guitar, it works well as a dog whacker, sticking your tongue in the slots can be especially fun, and playing it like a bass, also seems logical.


Landon’s maternal grandparents brought the crib bars up, and we got to visit with his great grandmother as well. We took them out to dinner, where he was enthralled with the cooks at the Mongolian BBQ place.

Now that we have the cage crib, we have to transition him to sleep in it. We just got it Sunday, so he has not slept in it yet. We decided to try on a weekend night first, that will give us a few days to try and put stuff up in his room (not that he cares) and possibly buy a rocking chair to replace the one on which we broke a weld. Also, I have to convert the slip cover into cushions for a new one. And if things go horribly awry – at least we won’t have to get up at 5:30am the next morning.

Operation Border Application did not go well.

Canine OCD?

We put the Pack’n’Play/Bassinet together on Sunday. It fits perfectly where we planned to put it in our room (minus the changing table part, which – ehh – I don’t feel like I really need). The color matches our room perfectly. The extra parts fit neatly under the bassinet part inside the play pen part – keeping it in one tidy little spot. It plays music, it plays nature sounds, it vibrates, and it has a timer that you can set for 5, 10 or 15 minutes…all things I didn’t really notice about it when we registered for it, cause we picked it for the colors.

We went ahead and set it up now, because Scarlett has a touch of OCD. She likes things to be in their place. She will nudge stuff with her head repeatedly if it’s not where it belongs, as if to say “Hey, this? This does NOT belong here. Are you going to put this up? Why would you leave this here? It SO does NOT go here.” We want her to get that out of her system for the stuff, before we come in with an actual baby.

She tried to help us put it together, but Clint kept telling her to “back-it-up.” And she obliged, by taking one step back and sitting, for a minute and then got back up to try and help. Lather, rinse, repeat. Nothing like having an audience for putting stuff together. Once in position, she seemed ok with it being there, but needed to see what was in it. She stood very close to the mesh and peered into the side of it. Then she took a position at the foot of the bed to see if she could look in from the top. She spent the next hour or so not leaving Clint’s side, and pouting. We told her she was not being replaced and that we were just adding on. As the day went on, she seemed to be much better.

Setting up the bassinet this early was supposed to be for the dog. But as we wrapped up the process, Clint said “This kind of makes it sink in, we’re having a baby.” I guess we’re all in a little bit of denial.

A Series of Unfortunate Mini-posts

There’s not much blog-worthy news in Chez Wood this week. I know most of you are really only reading to hear about the baby – and with my appointments 4 weeks apart, and my promise of one post a week…well, one in 4 baby related posts is about as good as it gets right now. But I do have a bunch of little not necessarily related items and items that will not make a full post on their own and I will try and bring them back to the baby in one way or another, but I’m not making any promises here.

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Electricity

There’s an electrician coming out tomorrow to look at our breaker box (thank you, home warranty). I’m tired of flipping breakers, and now that it’s not just the dryer, and sometimes it’s the A/C or something else, it’s getting really old. He will hopefully tell us that we need the whole thing replaced and then use the one we bought before I thought about the fact that the home warranty is the way to go (or maybe I could be lucky and find the receipt). Once that’s done, we will also have him add a circuit to the garage, so that we can run the air compressor and paint the crib for the BABY. (Whew, that one was easy.)

As an interesting side note, when I called the electrician company today, they put me on hold and the hold music/ad kept asking me if I was crazy and to call a phone number cause they were looking for certified crazy people – I hope that’s not an indication of the kind of people who work there.

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Like Father like Daughter

Clinton is going to have a bump removed from his back on Friday. He’s had it for 12 years, and since I wasn’t around 12 years ago, I can only assume he didn’t get it the way Scarlett acquired hers – rolling around on her back in the grass…but I could be wrong. Actually the doctor said it was a sebaceous cyst – which is essentially a clogged hair follicle. But they will now both be back bump free when the BABY comes. (Yeah, I know that’s stretching it.)

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Go go gadget arms…

My inspection classes are going well…I have had 4 each of Construction and Inspection, 8 each to go. I have the same instructor all day. He’s pretty laid back and lets us out a little early from each class, which gives us a decent lunch break and gets us home a little earlier. Once complete, I will need another 32 hours of classes to be eligible to take my test. The only 2 classes left during the summer after I finish these that would go towards it only add up to 30 hours, leaving me 2 hours shy of what I need. Hopefully the fall schedule will come out soon and I will be able to make arrangements for what I need and be able to take my last class and the test before the end of the year. I have decided to put my PE exam on hold, until April so that I can focus on the inspector test and the BABY.

As a fair warning – in order to get more field practice, after I pass my test, and before I start going into complete strangers homes, I will probably be asking each of you who own a home (or 2) if you would allow me to inspect them (for free of course).

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Ivan has a harem/gang

We haven’t gotten close enough to the cats who have been hanging around in our back yard to determine their genders, cause when they see us they run off. But Ivan either has a harem or is leading a gang of neighborhood cats. Clint caught them having some kind of meeting/discussion the other night in the bed of his truck, while Ivan sat on the cab supervising – you know, cause he’s in charge. Now, if I could just get him to stop letting them eat all his food, we’d be in good shape.

We also noticed a return of the ear scab spots he had last year…luckily I still have some prednisone (see earlier post where I mention not being good at giving them their meds consistently) and I’ve started him on a regimen to get him back to the picture of health. I made a chart – I will check off the date/time each time I give him one. I can only imagine that maybe he’s allergic to mosquitoes that are biting him on his ears, because it’s not ear mites. Last year the vet said she thought it was probably an allergy of some kind and even mentioned mosquitoes, and they showed up when the mosquitoes did, so 2+2=4 in my book.

There’s no baby connection…sorry.

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Comments

Now look, people – I know you’re reading these posts…would it kill you to give me a shout out in the comments?

So you can teach an old dog new tricks

Scott and Cindy came over yesterday afternoon and brought their Doberman, Kane, to play with the girls. He LOVES Scarlett – just ask him about her and he’ll tell you how much he loves her. And surprisingly enough, when they got the Doberman into the pool…Scarlett decided the top step wasn’t such a bad place to be after all. Typical girl will follow her boyfriend anywhere. Now if we could just get her to swim if she falls in instead of sinking, she’ll be ok.

$370 Bald Spot

It started on Mother’s day…she sat down as you petted her across her back. Then it moved on to not jumping on and off the bed like the crazy dog she is. I noticed the petting thing on Sunday…Clint mentioned it to me on Wednesday when I got home from work – we were supposed to be headed to a baseball game. So I called the vet – asking if it were possible that she might have a pulled muscle or should I bring her in. The vet said bring her in now! With urgency…so I freaked out. This is my baby and I had noticed her issues on Sunday and ignored them for 3 whole days and it was bad enough a description that the vet said it couldn’t wait…what kind of crappy dog mom am I?

So I tell Clint to go to the game with Scott when he arrives and I will follow when I get back from the vet. And the vet is the new vet (of a practice of 5, 3 steady, 1 fairly new, and this would be the newest). I’ve never met her, she seems likable enough. She explained her reasoning for asking us to come in immediately is that a lot of people can’t distinguish back pain from abdomen pain in dogs. (WHEW, I knew it was back pain, she’s still pooping and peeing like a champ) Well, she tells me the various things it could be, from mild to worst and we decide to take the route of some non-steroidal anti-inflammatory pills and pain pills for a week and cage rest and we’ll see what happens. I walk out $80 poorer, thinking I once again over reacted to what will be a pulled muscle.

A week later, I am about out of meds, and Scarlett is no better than she was before. So I call the vet and ask if I should continue the pills and if so that I need a refill, or should I bring her in for X-rays or something. The vet says X-rays – and she estimates it will cost around $220-$230 depending on how much it takes to sedate Scarlett.

So the next morning I haul Scarlett in for the X-rays and sit patiently by the phone waiting to hear the news that my dog has irreparable spinal damage and they are going to put her down. I get the call…FINALLY at about 3pm. She shows no issues on her X-rays, although they are going to hold them back for the radiologist to look at when they come in. For now they will increase her dosage on the anti-inflammatory and switch to caplets for the pain pill since Scarlett apparently can tell the difference between a treat and a med even if it’s supposed to be tasty. She is released to me that afternoon for $260 – pills and X-rays.

By now, I’m seriously in tears when I look at her. I can tell she’s in pain, I’m doing my best to do everything I can. For the first time EVER I have given her all the pills at all the right times for recovery.

The next morning, I fight her to get her out of the bed so she can take care of her business before I leave for work. She bites my face – kind of a warning bite, not a chomp down I’m going to kill you bite, but “see how pointy my teeth are?” lunging at me kind of bite – where she happened to ram her teeth into my face. So I sit on the ottoman and start to cry, because I’m at my wit’s end and not only can I not figure out how to fix my dog, I have now actually hurt her. And true to her mother, she feels guilt when she makes me cry and she tried to comfort me, and gave me kisses. I got her off the bed and took her outside. She’s doing her business when I notice a spot. A spot on her back where she’s lost some hair….a spot exactly where when you touch her she sits. I don’t know what the spot is, is it an insect bite? Is it a wound from a tree branch or something? I don’t know. I spray it with Benedryl spray – in case it’s an insect bite – maybe it itches. And I kennel her and head to work. I called Clint on my way and told him about the spot and he said to call the vet again.

I called the vet and made an appointment for that afternoon, I have an eye appointment an hour away that evening, but I figure I need to do this for her and if it runs over, I can always call Clint’s cousin to come take over for me at the vet’s office. We got Dr. Wall, she examines Scarlett and says she thinks there’s something in there, like a splinter or something. She asks if she can shave the area. And I say “Whatever you have to do to fix my dog.” Which I think is the sentence that allowed her not to come back and tell me what was going to happen, as I waited for what felt like an eternity.

She came back with Scarlett looking a little happier, with a little slit cut in her back where the bump was, a little blood and a little bald spot. She had a grass awn. A grass awn had caused all of this discomfort. She was put on antibiotics, in addition to her pain pills and anti-inflammatory pills. $30…the cheapest of all 3 sessions, and she’s fixed! Or she will be, cause she’s still got some healing and recovering to do. They had put some topical anesthetic on her back and cut the thing out.

A grass awn...mostly likely picked up by rolling around on her back in the grass. I looked it up on the internet and can only say I feel a little lucky and a little weirded out, because – she by all accounts shouldn’t have had one. The typically prone groups are long haired outdoor dogs who have access to fields with high grass, and even those dogs, normally get them in their foot webbing or they breathe them into their respiratory system. Although there is one sad story of a dog that seems to have had it so badly that they nearly cut him in half – or at least that what the pictures look like. It could have been worse, the dogs that breathe them in have them get in their lungs and migrate through their body. They cause abscesses along the way…it’s really a very terrifying picture of what could have been.

Anyway – I continued to give her the meds with amazing consistency (which is not like me at all with animal meds, or my own personal meds for that matter). She took her last antibiotic this morning and I’m sure she’ll be relieved to find out I have nothing to shove down her throat this evening. She has seemingly completely recovered, and although I’ll miss that while she was not feeling well, she slept through the night without asking to go out…I have to admit when she woke me up in the middle of the night a few nights ago to go out, I breathed a giant sigh of relief. My baby is feeling better!

In the midst of this, Clint said something about “if” they could fix her (before we knew what it even was). And I responded “Oh, they WILL fix her.” Scarlett is my child and I will not put her down without a fight. People have been telling me that when the baby comes I will love Scarlett less. I remember reading on another website about a woman who said she didn't believe them, when they told her she would love her dog less when her child came. She said they were right, and she was right – she didn’t love her dog less, but she loved her child differently. So I guess we’ll see. But for now – all I can say is how much I love Scarlett and her $370 bald spot.