Sunday, April 27, 2008

Maybe this is what I deserve

My husband's parents are in Turkey for three and a half weeks so we are taking care of their dog, Sunny, who is a bit of a bumpkin lacking the cosmopolitan sophistication Owen displays when we are dragging around on leashes and when we are meeting new dogs and when we are deciding which delicious things on the floor to chew on.

Saturday last week he came over and by Monday he started with the diarrhea so, again, we were cleaning the floor on our hands and knees; Monday after work, up in the middle of the night, 6 in the morning, after work again, and again and again.


Maybe its because when I took a second to roll my eyes heavenward he cleaned out the kitty litter box, chewed the siding off the house, ate a foam mattress, swallowed his weight in mud and ravaged my seedlings starts.

By now maybe you have the impression that I am not a very good pack leader and am a lousy tender of puppies, and I can't blame you. But you would be wrong and you dont have to believe me till you are here, on your hands and knees pulling barbed wire and live possum out of these pup gullets. Then you'd get it, by gum.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Pear Blossom 2008


Last weekend was hot and sunshiny, more like summer really then anything springlike. I spent seventy-two of those forty-eight hours in the car driving to Medford and back. Between south/northagain I spent one hour, twenty-two minutes and nine seconds running ten miles after only five hours and fourteen and a half minutes sleeping. I don't sleep well before races. In fact sleeping well only happens on the back end, that is, if I finally get there and am allowed to stay there, sleeping. Which I rarely am.

ANYWAY, We drove down to Medford for the Pear Blossom run which is something of a tradition (2008, 2007, 2006, 2005, 2004); the ritual part being me bitching about Medford, the drive and the fact that the race is on Saturday, then leaving later then planned after not enough time stayed. Oh, and I usually wander around the RR tracks in Ashland with John for awhile somewhere in the time between.

There were improvements over last year... I didn't have to make the drive alone, the libraries are open again, no one stole my parking spot and I didn't drown in the rain. We arrived at the start line late for my Dad's 5k and despite starting at the very back of the pack he still shaved a couple minutes off his time.

A half an hour before my race started, Clark and his daughter and I ran the Mayor One Mile in a swarm of impressively enthusiastic, if somewhat untrained, children. It was like The Tortoise And The Hare every few seconds. CHARGE! pant pant CHARGE! pant pant CHARGE! We ran an eleven minute mile and got red ribbons. It was awesome.

My race started just a few minutes later. I edged closer to the front of the pack then I normally do and started slow, at least mentally. This race, this year was the most perfectly executed race I have ever run, and not at all because I set a PR for the course. What that means isn't worth explaining because research shows that nobody has even read this far because there are a lot of words and they are all about me.

I have a sort of distorted and you might say EXTREMELY NEGATIVE view of the past and think even the ME of a month ago an unsophisticated boob so I was a little disappointed to compare my times from this year to my race times from last year and find that not only were they close, I would have been my own fierce competitor if I had been there to race me. Surely, after a full year of evolving I would leave that little twit in the dust! NO! I would have been panting down my neck. Rude! Yet... formidable!

Anyway, I forget what I was saying. It was hot, it was lots of driving, I ate noodles and tried to knit my first-ever scarf on the thus-far hottest day of the year. Brilliant! Tomorrow it is supposed to snow so if I hurry up, knitknitknit, I might be on the cutting edge of fashion for just the tiniest fraction of my lifetime.

Monday, April 14, 2008

Taxes and budgets and bills and boxes-in-piles and dirty clothes and hunger and pestilence and software and the future and

If I could invent a new word for how overwhelmed I feel right now I would say it OUTLOUD and the air would smell like a car accident and the sky would arch away. Gazing that far upward you would wobble and cease to be at all comforted.

My head starts hurting every time my phone rings and when I pull in front of my house I sit there hanging onto every word of radio news because I can't yet go inside where all those things need doing, maybe better to take my foot off the brake and roll quietly away before engaging the clutch.

But I didn't again today. I came back into the house and shuffled through the rooms in a stupor muttering my new word, doing none of those things at all but wishing it was time to go to bed in the way where sleep is a metaphor for death.

Monday, April 07, 2008


Owen got sick again and while we were away one afternoon broke through the baby gate so he could poop extra stinky diarrhea all over the carpet instead of on that pesky slick old linoleum floor we keep in the kitchen. So we went off to the vet again, and paid $50 to have them look at his poop again, and it came back negative for parasites, again. In the meantime he puked a few times here and there just to make a point.

My poor baby!

That didn't solve the diarrhea problem but the vet did refuse to give him his shots that day and instead rescheduled him for another appointment two expensive days later. His eyes started gooping up with yellow snot and he refused to eat more then a few bites of food. We took turns waking up and running him outside every couple hours through the night and I fretted loud and often about possible dehydration. I left messages with the doctor and she never called back.

Meanwhile, Owen otherwise didn't act terribly sick. Being in quarantine from other dogs he took to harassing the cat as if she were also a frustrated, desperate-to-play 4 month old puppy... that is, hopping up and landing with both paws pinning her down then thrashing her about. Willie doesn't seem to be terribly concerned and does little more than slap clawlessly at his face and hiss once and awhile (she certainly isn't bothered enough to get up on her feet and walk away because that would be exercise and Willie does not do exercise). But I am concerned because I keep ASKING HIM TO BE GENTLE, AND OH BY THE WAY NEXT TIME POOP/BARF OVER HERE but nothing in my power seems to have any impact on anything, ever, at all, whatso-uselessly-ever. ARGH!

For a whole week I simply failed to exist.

Finally, after some research I decided maybemaybe it was his food that was too cheap and dirty and was the source of his health problems. We took him off IAMS which is an ex-good brand now total crap and switched him to Orijen and overnight, literally the next morning he was pooping normally and his eyes cleared up.

Finally fully vaccinated and restored, yesterday we took him to the dog park for the first time. After two blissful hours of being charged and mowed down by packs of full grown dogs running at top speed, rolled in mud and grit and covered in slobber we brought him home and he slept the entire night through.


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