Last night it dawned on me, in the midst of my “I hate winter and three-hour commutes” anxiety, that there is one true thing about winter that I adore. And, that my friends is cold water. You don’t have to let the sink run for 17 minutes before the water turns cool enough to drink, you don’t have to add ice to chill it down, you don’t have to keep a pitcher in the fridge to support your endless cold water addiction.
No, you simply turn the faucet and the glory of cold, cold water comes out. That is, clearly, what it’s all about.
*Image by JTHammond
Charles survived his surgery… only to come back to me as Frankenpuppy. He had a gnarly 3.5″ incision with rough looking stitches covering his abdomen — all the way from his sternum to his man business. Take a peek:
I was a little shocked when I picked him up that 1.) his incision was GINORMOUS and 2.) that he was so out of it. Each call from the dr. and his student made it seem as if Charles was up and running around, eating and making friends with everyone. Not so. He was acting like a tiny sickling that needed constant care.
Fast forward about a week and the little man is living in onesies, so that he doesn’t lick/chew out his stitches. This wardrobe choice has also lead to a few wonderful potty problems from wetting his onesie to having some poo trouble in the onesie. He’s in desperate need of a bath. Desperate.
I took him to get his stitches out on Saturday and he decided the night before to help the dr.’s out a bit. He took out the top 1/3 by himself. The only reason I let him out of his onsie was because my mom kept saying, ALL WEEK, “He’s just licking, he leaves them alone except for some licking. He won’t tear them out”. Well she was wrong.
Nonetheless, he seems to be doing well. I’m jamming his Amoxicillin pills down twice a day in addition to his normal medication and prescription kibble routine. I’ll keep you posted, but so far so good.
P.S. I forgot to mention that I caught him eating his own poop. I can barely look at him. Maybe the antibiotics give it some extra spice? Here’s to hoping it was a one time thing. (crossing fingers now)
I took Charles up to the CSU vet hospital for some puppy surgery today. I believe I’ve mentioned his liver ailment here before, but I haven’t been doing many updates because it’s a bit of a downer. I took Chuck in for his annual appointment at the end of June only to learn that his blood work was extremely off — giving him a time line of about 6 months. I cried a lot. I found out at work, spent the rest of the day in and out of tears with my door shut. I figured that was better than having my co-workers question why I had disappeared and an ogre had moved into the room I usually work in.
Crying isn’t a pretty endeavor for me.
All I knew was that I couldn’t watch my sweet Charles suffer through seizures and other neurological symptoms while there was something I could be doing about it. So after a month and a half of “thinking about it”, I finally took him get all fixed up. The funny thing is, I’m scared I made the wrong decision.
The doctor was nice (or vet dr?), he seemed like he knew what he was talking about… and they let me leave Charles with his little stuffed frog. I have the overwhelming fear that he won’t make it out of surgery, that I won’t see him again. In reality the bigger worry is that he’ll come out of surgery and begin having violent seizures that won’t go away. That’s the 1/10 result. Scares the shit out of me.
I snuggled him last night, played frog with him this morning and told him I loved him and to be trooper tomorrow. I know I’m going to be an anxious mess until I get the after surgery report… but here’s to Charles getting better. To real dog food, swimming in his dog pool, long walks, fetch in the park and snuggles in the winter. I sure do love that little guy.
P.S. Have I mentioned that Charles is passionate about corn on the cob? Oh, that and he’s also a pro at getting every last kernel off!
So in general people like to cuddle. Snuggle up on the couch during a movie, lay by a fireplace being all romantic, just canoodle in bed a bit before falling asleep… personally I don’t like to be touched for extended periods of time. I can’t for the life of me figure out how the hell you fall asleep with someone touching you. I can actually produce REAL anxiety over the thought of having to share a bed with someone later in life. I sweat bullets, obsess over it and honestly figure that the fact I can’t lie next to my future boyfriend/husband/whomever will be the end of that relationship.
Maybe I should invest in a King bed, though I think that’s a bit of overkill considering the only people in my bed at this time are me and my 8 lb. dog with an attitude. Not to mention the $1,000 price tag associated with my over zealous attempt to crush my cuddle anxiety.
Now that I have discouraged any guy from ever wanting to date me… I’ll continue in my queen bed anxiety free. Phew, solved that one.