I had a countdown going on for a minute there. It was for my vacation, in case you were curious. I had all kinds of plans for the blog countdown – a quick post daily, photos of the dogs every day so then I could make a cute video. Whole lotta nope.
I can think of two schools of thought to that – either I’m putting too much pressure on myself to do something that is a hobby, OR, stop being a lazy, procrastinating asshole. You can probably tell I agree more with the latter. Because I am a jerk. An undisciplined jerk.
Now that I’ve explained, I need a new countdown date. I have a bday with a zero in it coming up, so I could do that. No I will not say which decade I will be entering because you would be shocked, shocked and dismayed, by my immaturity. My emotional development stopped somewhere in the high teens but luckily I have other qualities that balance that out. Or that’s what I’m assuming because I do have friends that aren’t family and I am married so someone likes me.
Holy crap I just googled it’s less than 60 days until I am ?0.
Did I tell you I grew up in a boarding school? Well, I grew up in a boarding school. One of the first things they did will drill in the importance of schedules. We all (twenty or so) would have to sit in the common room and draw our own schedule charts.
This is good when you are young and wild and unruly. Now, I think I would be considered in the more stringent term of “regimented”, which can make things a wee bit boring. This was kind of the point of this blog, to make me think about my days because you can pretty much set your clock by me.
I know my dogs do. Especially Mayhem. And she likes it. When I do something out of order or the timing of things are disrupted, she is fully aware.
However, for me, the human, it makes it hard for me to change things up. You know, thrill myself by vacuuming in the morning instead of the afternoon, pushing back snuggle time to work on a project. I will want to work out, or do some writing, but discover I’m 15 minutes past my target start time so I won’t do it, then start early on the next thing. Oooo an extra load of laundry. Goody. And so I get bored. Cage of my own making.
Anyhow, just thoughts, and me mixing up my evening by doing this blah blah post.
There has been much celebrating, in the form of rolling on the ground, biting ankles, biting toys, scavaging for rabbit poo, and barking just to bark. I think she wanted to burn the cone under the full moon and dance around it.
I was hesitant to take the cone off, but my husband said the stitches were done doing their thing, and most of the healing under the scab was done. It’s nice having a paramedic / EMT spousal unit. It’s like having a reference book you don’t have to carry around. And what am I a reference for? Well, if he is interested in story structure and genre and themes and the hero’s journey, well, he knows who to turn to.
Took the pups on a hike today. A new trail and I was getting quite bored. Trees rocks snow, kaaaaay. Then I met some people coming up the trail and they mentioned caves. Caves? Yes, I will cross the stream twice over slippery, crackling ice to see limestone caves. And we did.
OMG you guys talk about out of sight out of mind! My posting completely fell off my radar dealing with holidays and dog injuries. But the cyst removed from Mayhem’s paw is NOT CANCER!!! Hooooraaaaayyyyyy!!!!!! My husband was so happy I think that if I had asked him to buy me a new car he would have said yes without a moment’s hesitation.
Things have settled down for now, but it was mayhem (ha ha) for a minute. And I was naughty. I had work due for my development editor, and I totally slacked. Well, went on an outlining tangent, and didn’t get my chapters done. She was forgiving about it but still didn’t want to meet until I completed what I was supposed to.
This is good. I get manic on things sometimes and cannot be indulged. That’s precisely why I need her.
Lessons learned from long-term dog coning:
Wrapping the dog’s foot to the point it becomes a mitten is a bad thing when the injury is supposed to breathe. Mayhem has a thick neck and slim head (better to bite your ankles with), so she would rear up, put her paws by her neck and push her cone off. Impressive and fancy raccoon work, the little shit.
Communicating to your vet that you were having cone problems is essential. I brought the cone, harness, collar, and duct tape to him, per his request. He then performed a tiny miracle. Photos below.
Use the sedation drugs.
Every. Single. Loop. Secured!!
They made bows out of duct tape. Bless their hearts.
I tried every dog bootie I had, and what worked the best was double-upped Ziploc bags and medical tape. The stretchy fabric kind. She couldn’t get her stitches wet because they would dissolve with moisture (hence the cone for no licky-licky), and of course, we had a big snowstorm and the snow is still hanging around. I’ve been through about two bags of Ziplocs.
At this point, the cone is beaten to crap and I’m hoping to get it off this weekend. Just waiting for the scab to fall off, but it’s locked on tight right now like a crusty barnacle.
When this cone comes off this girl deserves an all-day puppy party. For a dog that abhors people touching her feet, she has let me get all up in her foot business and has not once barked or whined about the cone. This girl is a champ.
I slept through my alarm this morning. Swear it was that drink I mentioned yesterday.
Going through my chapters this afternoon, and I really have to stop myself from editing as I go. I just recently learned that you were just supposed to charge through. You’re supposed to come back later, several times actually: tweak your story, then your writing, then micro-tweak your sentences. I’ve always jumped to micro-tweak.
I’m so sick of this damn story I dread going through it again, but I promised myself that I would finish it. I wish I got a developmental editor years ago, even if it was just for a month or two.
Took Mayhem to the vet this morning for a cyst on her front paw. They don’t like the look of it and think it might be cancerous, surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning. I have to admit that I did cry in the waiting room. I am still very scarred about what happened with Max, but I also learned a lot.
Stay calm, don’t freak out, wait for test results. In the meantime, love and play.
I’ve been living off of miso soup and protein shakes. Of course I blame the reason for my headache-y lethargy to not taking my multi. Yeah, no. I have chapters and six (short) scene analysis due on Thursday morning, which is just three short sunrises away and I do my best work in the a.m., so I have got to get it together.
A few weeks ago, I ordered some samples from a company that has mushroom based protein powder and coffee and elixer/potion stuff. I accidentally drank one of their “chill” chai latte at work, having read the word “latte” and assumed it was a pick-me-up. It was so not. I was very relaxed that evening and I think I went to bed at 7:30. All of this to say I have another sample packet of said “chill” and think it’s just what I need tonight. And not to worry – I don’t get paid from the brand to promote or anything. I mean, who reads this besides me?
My lights just flickered. I CANNOT lose power. Tomorrow the high is 2 degrees. Dos. Degree-os.
Major win today: Getting two booties on Olive. The sound the plastic hitting the ice is hilarious. It’s what I kind of always hear in my head when she’s walking anyway – she is soooo flat-footed and the most ungraceful labrador-golden(?) I have ever seen. It’s like she’s got platypus feet – plat plat plat plat…..
I did get two booties on Mayhem, who promptly sat down and Yoda-ed her ears until I took them off, then she ran away. We both knew that was the only outcome that could ever happen.