..you are. My apologies! For the love of lists and the lack of time I'm feeling now, I thought I'd present a list of topics I'd like to post about (and hopefully will in the near future):
- my utterly fantastic and gorgeous new clutch, whose name is Bess (I didn't even make that up, that's the model name!);
- the joy I got out of receiving great birthday presents from The Roommate, all within the 2008 Birthday Budget, and how good it feels to have a birthday budget in general;
- (potential) work excitement;
- birthday weekend at the fox farm;
- general excitement regarding what is to be soon regarded as My Year of Culture: a membership to the Anch. Museum and season tickets (you-pick) to the Anch. Concert Association;
- All Things Loon Related;
- I'm sorry, did I mention the purse yet?
- Reading a book that my newly-93-year-old grandmother has enjoyed so much that she read twice (and which I could hardly get to the end of);
- Halibut fishing girls weekend!
- Taiko drumming
- The visit by the in laws;
- the anniversary;
- Luna's third birthday;
- Rowing on Trail Lake;
- Biking up Hatcher Pass;
- Head of the Kenai;
- MS 150 bike ride;
- observing Grandpa Bob's passing;
- energy audits;
- Montana, Omaha, North Carolina, San Fransisco, Italy, Deadhorse by motorcycle, Australia! (a.k.a. trips planned in the next 13 months)
I suppose that is all for now. Good pictures coming soon, and a fulfillment of a birthday resolution to blog more (here's at'cha, Captain Colossal)!
Love,
B's Knees
Showing posts with label Alpinloon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alpinloon. Show all posts
Monday, September 8, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Luna Update
On with the joys of dog ownership...
One week ago, Luna got up for breakfast as usual. She went outside to the front yard to "do her business" also as usual, and went tearing across the (fenced) yard after a dog that was being walked down the street (also usual). The not so usual part is that in the process of tearing across the yard, she managed to tear her left hind "ring toe" nail off the nailbed. This was not such a pretty sight when she came back inside. I wasn't too keen on another trip to urgent care, so I waited 40 minutes until the vet clinic opened for the day, and fortunately they could see her that morning. She was sedated (this makes it the third time I've signed a wonderful "if your dog dies under sedation it's not our fault" waiver) and they shaved her toe and removed the torn toenail. It looks terrible, like the tip of a red marker instead of a toenail - essentially, it's just raw quick with no nail on top. She had to wear this little bootie for the first few days (tore it off once tearing around the yard again), and has caused it to resume bleeding all over the floor only a few times. Can't wait to see how much of the $230 vet bill the pet insurance folks will cover!
(I'd attach a photo, but am afraid it would be too gross.)
One week ago, Luna got up for breakfast as usual. She went outside to the front yard to "do her business" also as usual, and went tearing across the (fenced) yard after a dog that was being walked down the street (also usual). The not so usual part is that in the process of tearing across the yard, she managed to tear her left hind "ring toe" nail off the nailbed. This was not such a pretty sight when she came back inside. I wasn't too keen on another trip to urgent care, so I waited 40 minutes until the vet clinic opened for the day, and fortunately they could see her that morning. She was sedated (this makes it the third time I've signed a wonderful "if your dog dies under sedation it's not our fault" waiver) and they shaved her toe and removed the torn toenail. It looks terrible, like the tip of a red marker instead of a toenail - essentially, it's just raw quick with no nail on top. She had to wear this little bootie for the first few days (tore it off once tearing around the yard again), and has caused it to resume bleeding all over the floor only a few times. Can't wait to see how much of the $230 vet bill the pet insurance folks will cover!
(I'd attach a photo, but am afraid it would be too gross.)
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Maxin' and Relaxin', Luna-style
Turns out, when you eat two ample piles of moose droppings that have recently melted out of the yard's snow, you become completely constipated until the middle of the night/mid-morning (must be when someone is not being attentive), at which point you spontaneously combust in your laundry room abode (which, fortunately, your kind hosts have barricaded you into for the night). The fascinating, yes, fascinating part of this process is that the elimination still is most obviously moose nugget, just in the shape of dog excrement.
After your hosts clean things up a few times, cursing you for being so prolific, and, having not yet made the connection between moose nuggets and tastiness, wondering why on earth you're doing this most awful action, you act guilty and sulk around (while at the same time refusing to step on the portions of soiled carpet which have been thoroughly scrubbed).
Then, the hosts have an epiphany about the moose droppings-tastiness correlation. All makes sense in the world! Of course moose nuggets are tasty! It's like chewed up wood! And of course the dog would eat it! Why on earth not?
So, the end result: the droppings that are still identifyable in the yard have either been pitched out of the fence perimeter or sprayed down with a bitter apple/tabasco combination. And, reward of all rewards, a new bed is purchased (since the old one showed signs of severe discomfort):
Yes, we're very pleased with ourselves.
After your hosts clean things up a few times, cursing you for being so prolific, and, having not yet made the connection between moose nuggets and tastiness, wondering why on earth you're doing this most awful action, you act guilty and sulk around (while at the same time refusing to step on the portions of soiled carpet which have been thoroughly scrubbed).
Then, the hosts have an epiphany about the moose droppings-tastiness correlation. All makes sense in the world! Of course moose nuggets are tasty! It's like chewed up wood! And of course the dog would eat it! Why on earth not?
So, the end result: the droppings that are still identifyable in the yard have either been pitched out of the fence perimeter or sprayed down with a bitter apple/tabasco combination. And, reward of all rewards, a new bed is purchased (since the old one showed signs of severe discomfort):
Yes, we're very pleased with ourselves.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Luna Can't Reach her Mulva
Oh, poor The Loon. Her mulva is in terrible shape, somehow, and she can't reach it to clean it, so it's driving her bananas. Completely distressing her. I can't assign a better word than "distressing" to her condition. She will be fine, doing normal Loon things (like begging, or lying next to the fire) when suddenly she will JOLT! and ZIP! and go tearing around the room as though her bottom (or mulva) is on fire. She'll do this for a few minutes and then collapse, exhausted, onto the rug.
Dogs have this charming anatomical feature known as anal glands, where they store identifying scents that also help lubricate things along in the rear caboose. Typically, dogs are able to express (don't you love that) these glands through their normal course of play, sniffing, etcetera. Active running is supposed to be good for expression. Sometimes, however, certain doggies perhaps aren't exposed to enough expressionism, and they require forcible expression. Don't you wish this could be performed on stodgy old conservatives, forced expression? Say, prolonged exposure to The Vagina Monologues or a lecture on Mapplethorpe’s nudes? By the end of the series, the subject would certainly be begging to express themselves in whatever media they saw most fitting.
Well, dogs yearn to express through stinky old glands, apparently. So this is what I thought must be bothering the poor Loon. My friend tried to express them (can you imagine the scene? include rubber gloves and vaseline.) but was unsuccessful; in fact, she thought they didn't require expression. Yesterday morning, this topic was most obviously on The Loon's mind. She was so distressed, in fact, that I called in late to work (isn't my DOG a DEPENDENT?!) and phoned the vet for an appointment, post haste. We were booked for 9 am. Good.
Seeing as it was 7:00 in the morning, and it would have taken me a full 60 minutes to drive to work, drive home, pick up The Loon, and drive to the vet (not to mention driving The Loon home and returning to work), I decided to spend some QT with said distressed dog. She immediately went back to bed. I decided to peel an acorn squash for a vindaloo recipe I was planning for that evening.
Unbeknownst to me, my disposall, El Badger, does not like squash. He revolted and spewed chopped squash peel all over the inside of the lower cabinet. I truly felt like the Domestic Goddess when I was pulling out the seventy or so cleaning products (and pet stain removal products) from under the sink, wishing I'd had the foresight to store this myriad of chemicals in a nice tidy bucket. I successfully dismantled the plastic drain piping and scraped out the offending squash, but then became perplexed at the prospect of fitting it all back together again. So I left it. Best The Roommate supervise my effort and give a nice quality-control sign-off on the work, lest I assume I've done it correctly and then run the dishwasher (all over the floor).
(Did I mention that the night before, as I was diligently flossing my teeth, the bottom wire of my braces came unconnected to the last bracket?)
So The Loon and I traipsed off to the vet, where we learned that she is plenty expressed. Instead, she has an irritated mulva. Oh, Poor Loon! I don't even like to imagine, and I have seen it up close. Good thing I love my dog, since I'm cleaning things I never imagined I would clean...(okay, at some point I fantasized that I would have a dog, and I tried to imagine all the downsides to that - and this was pretty close to one of the downsides.).
To wrap it all up, the ortho technician snapped my wire back on in less than 30 seconds, and I managed to fit all the plastic drain pipe back together at the end of the day when I returned home from work. But it was remarkably exhausting, doing all of that. Most of all, emotional trauma resulting from concern that my dog was not adequately expressing herself!
Read into it what you like, people....should have read my horoscope for the day.
Dogs have this charming anatomical feature known as anal glands, where they store identifying scents that also help lubricate things along in the rear caboose. Typically, dogs are able to express (don't you love that) these glands through their normal course of play, sniffing, etcetera. Active running is supposed to be good for expression. Sometimes, however, certain doggies perhaps aren't exposed to enough expressionism, and they require forcible expression. Don't you wish this could be performed on stodgy old conservatives, forced expression? Say, prolonged exposure to The Vagina Monologues or a lecture on Mapplethorpe’s nudes? By the end of the series, the subject would certainly be begging to express themselves in whatever media they saw most fitting.
Well, dogs yearn to express through stinky old glands, apparently. So this is what I thought must be bothering the poor Loon. My friend tried to express them (can you imagine the scene? include rubber gloves and vaseline.) but was unsuccessful; in fact, she thought they didn't require expression. Yesterday morning, this topic was most obviously on The Loon's mind. She was so distressed, in fact, that I called in late to work (isn't my DOG a DEPENDENT?!) and phoned the vet for an appointment, post haste. We were booked for 9 am. Good.
Seeing as it was 7:00 in the morning, and it would have taken me a full 60 minutes to drive to work, drive home, pick up The Loon, and drive to the vet (not to mention driving The Loon home and returning to work), I decided to spend some QT with said distressed dog. She immediately went back to bed. I decided to peel an acorn squash for a vindaloo recipe I was planning for that evening.
Unbeknownst to me, my disposall, El Badger, does not like squash. He revolted and spewed chopped squash peel all over the inside of the lower cabinet. I truly felt like the Domestic Goddess when I was pulling out the seventy or so cleaning products (and pet stain removal products) from under the sink, wishing I'd had the foresight to store this myriad of chemicals in a nice tidy bucket. I successfully dismantled the plastic drain piping and scraped out the offending squash, but then became perplexed at the prospect of fitting it all back together again. So I left it. Best The Roommate supervise my effort and give a nice quality-control sign-off on the work, lest I assume I've done it correctly and then run the dishwasher (all over the floor).
(Did I mention that the night before, as I was diligently flossing my teeth, the bottom wire of my braces came unconnected to the last bracket?)
So The Loon and I traipsed off to the vet, where we learned that she is plenty expressed. Instead, she has an irritated mulva. Oh, Poor Loon! I don't even like to imagine, and I have seen it up close. Good thing I love my dog, since I'm cleaning things I never imagined I would clean...(okay, at some point I fantasized that I would have a dog, and I tried to imagine all the downsides to that - and this was pretty close to one of the downsides.).
To wrap it all up, the ortho technician snapped my wire back on in less than 30 seconds, and I managed to fit all the plastic drain pipe back together at the end of the day when I returned home from work. But it was remarkably exhausting, doing all of that. Most of all, emotional trauma resulting from concern that my dog was not adequately expressing herself!
Read into it what you like, people....should have read my horoscope for the day.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Luna at Play
I know, the Bulldog may be best suited for Rest. I stayed up late last night to see the Bulldog segment on PBS' Nova that featured the Bulldog, and somehow they seemed to imply that the Bulldog is a whimsy dog, instead of a "working" dog. I beg to differ - I think that the job of a Bulldog is to inspire laughter, smiling, and goofiness, which we all need more of in our lives. And Bulldogs are very, very good at performing this work.
Here are examples of The Loon at Play (aka Work):
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Things I Love
- Sitting by a fire (that I made myself, thank you very much) with my Bulldog curled up on my feet
- Looking through old pictures and laughing
- New Yawk (the Loon loves it, too - see?)
- Looking through old pictures and laughing
- New Yawk (the Loon loves it, too - see?)
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
First Post
A few of my favorites...
Cutest Puppy picture is used with permission by Jim Kohl Photography, all rights reserved. Please be cool and abide by copyrights; don't steal or misuse.
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