Wordless Wednesday

I'm Not Even Embarrassed to Say...

That is best picture I have ever taken of a snot droplet. I'm very proud of myself.

Wordless Wednesday (almost)

There's 10 left, in case you're trying to count.

Oh Happiest of Saturdays!

 May all of your fondest wishes be granted as well!

Adventures in Dentistry

I admit it, I was in love with Drive's little snaggle tooth. It was another bullet point on the lengthy list of "What Makes Drive Adorable." But in my heart, I knew it was in peril.

His teeth were in bad shape, and he was due to have a dental cleaning before we left for Gettysburg. On the original date of his appointment, however, abnormalities appeared on the pre-operative ECG. The vet suggested an ultrasound of his heart, which presented a serious problem: if we opted for the ultrasound, our limited funds would no longer allow the dental. But what if there were something wrong with his heart, and he suffered a catastrophic crash under anesthesia?

We chose the ultrasound. I spent the day pacing and anxious, and Lanie was much the same. This was, after all, the very day after we had lost our beautiful old Bullie.

The ultrasound showed no abnormalities, nothing in his heart flapping or leaking that shouldn't be, nothing to thick or too weak.

His rescheduled dental took place on this past Tuesday. I expected he would lose three or four teeth, and that a couple of the extractions might even be difficult. I feared for his buckteeth.

I was not expecting to hear, "We took seventeen teeth."

His front teeth were among the casualties. Twelve of those seventeen were so loose they barely registered on the receipt; they practically fell out. Two of them were difficult but required due to bone loss and exposed root.

Here's a shot of his new, less toothy snoot. After a rough first night, he's back to himself, eating and drinking and smiling at me when I come home. And his remaining several teeth are a brilliant pearly white.

Sleepy Saturday Blog Hop

    There may be rumors circulating that I almost never pass up chance for cocktails. This is true. While in Gettysburg, I was pleased to combine my love of dogs with my love of drinking, and attended a couple of social gatherings in the hotel ballroom. If you think attending a cocktail party with a few dozen dogs in attendance is a noisy, messy proposition, you need to spend more time around greyhounds. 

 

 

The atmosphere with greyhounds in attendance is so relaxing that even Chester Hoover, world-famous party animal, was inspired.

Charm

 I think I'm inspired to go back to bed myself!

If you're visiting from the Blog Hop, welcome!

For today, the good news!

Another week escaped me. My humble apologies. Things have been hectic at our house. Doctor and vet appointments and car fixing and hard decisions and some easier ones.

Let me start with happy things.

On Drive's Gotcha Day, he and I met up with friends for a little socializing with a specific purpose in mind.

We are going to Greyhounds in Gettysburg! The outing Saturday was to make sure that Drive and the two lovely greyhounds with whom we will be traveling would be comfortable riding together in the back of a van. I wasn't worried, to be honest. Drive is a passive sort of guy and both of the other hounds are known to (and loved by) me. We drove around for a couple of hours, stopped to visit a beach, and enjoyed the company and conversation. I'm confident there will be no issues.

Ki-lee

 

 

 

 

I've met Ki-lee (and her mom, Sharon) more than once before. Long story made short, Ki-lee stood in as "therapy hound" for me once, when Drive was at home and I was not. Helping keep track of her, petting her, talking with her, taking pictures of her phenomenal ears -- she kept me from more than one panic attack the day we met. She also, for reasons not yet known to me, decided that I was perfect for sitting on. She's reiterated this opinion every time we've been together since. I'm lucky to know her and to have a friend like Sharon who will share with me.

Just to make you really jealous, this is Charm:

Charm

Is she not beautiful? I think I'm going to be with three of the prettiest hounds at GiG! And I think you can tell from this picture that everyone got along just fine. This was the first time Drive and Charm had met; that's his haunch Charm is using for a pillow. I'd met Charm and her mom, Karen, before and I couldn't be happier about taking this trip with good friends and greyt pups.

With that, everything is a go!

The Hills Have... A Snout?

My Gentleman Bulldozer

This is Bullie.

Did I ever tell you how he came to be in our lives? An accident, really. A misunderstanding. He was rescued from isolation and loneliness after his owner was suddenly tragically unable to care for him, but his age at the time made the rescue hesitant to put him in a kennel. They put out a call for a soft foster bed for him.

I was close and I'm a sucker. Knowing nothing else about him and secure in my belief that I was going to give an old dog a bed for a couple weeks, I went and picked him up.

My understanding was faulty. My ability to somehow not love a dog is compromised. It didn't take long before we signed the papers and made him ours. After all, we reasoned, he's old. He's too old to get bounced around. He's not showy. He's shy. He'd be overlooked, we worried. He was almost 9 at the time. He's 12 and half now.

We tried giving him regular dog beds, but he prefers this grody pile of blankets, which he digs and kicks and arranges just so before throwing himself down. He's too unsteady now to fluff his own bed, so he'll come get one of us to help now.

He walks down the hallway and peeks into the rooms, looking for a person. When he finds me, he just tilts his head and stares. "I need help with something," he says patiently with his wide, placid brown eyes. "I'll wait here until you figure it out."

He doesn't stand up much any more. I rub him all over, every day, looking for sores or pressure points that might turn into sores. He's a giant dog, almost 30 inches at his shoulder, and now he's thin and frail. It's terrifying to watch him move sometimes. He's like an old man on stilts.

The past couple days have been rough ones for him. He doesn't get up to greet people anymore, though he lifts his head and soaks up whatever attention he gets. He can't move his bowels without falling over, so we've had to devise a sling to help him. His pain medications have been slightly increased and I'm confident he's not in pain.

What do we do? I've held beloved companions in my arms before, as they were released from life. The difference in those scenarios was that there was simply no question. The animals let me know in no uncertain terms: This is the time for me to leave. Bullie isn't being so considerate. The end will come down to a judgment call and I don't feel I am worthy to judge. I'm too selfish.

I want to spare my beautiful old man any more pain. I don't want him to fall and break a leg and end that way. I don't want him scared, I don't want him sad.

But I don't want him to go.

Rember This Color?

Green?

My Little Tiger

Lanie's colors stand out so much more brilliantly in the winter.

Fuzzy Wuzzy

Lanie is so plush. I stroke this neck for hours a day, whenever I have a hand free, since she's always so close to me. I think she keeps my blood pressure at safe levels.

However, she's also the dog most likely to raise it.

Yes, she does have a fantastic overbite.

Here Lie A Thousand Kisses

And here is where I'll place a thousand more.

A Holiday Greeting

Is it on me?

Niblets

It's Too Early to Blog Hop

"But I s'pose I'd get up if there were donuts."
Welcome to our blog! We'll be right there.
Really.

Someone Has a Cold Nose

He Cares So Much

The intense love and focus evidenced in that shining eye are directed at the sandwich I am holding just out of reach.

And the Blog Hop, which I keep missing because November is just brutally busy:

Actually, there's no "may be" about it.

"Well, you can ask. But if you want Santa to bring you more trains, you need to start behaving nicely right now. Because frankly, my girl... You may be on the Naughty List."

Okay, so she's not what you'd call a "good" dog. But she's perfect anyway.

I Wasn't Wrong, Either.

It was that overbite, I think. When her hard luck abandonment story was posted on a forum and I clicked the link, prepared to be sad and regretful on her behalf, I saw those buck teeth.

And I knew we belonged together.