Wednesday, April 21, 2010


I’m furious at the vet. Of course we expected them to do a bunch of tests… but if the dog is falling down in front of you because her legs won’t hold her and you still claim you’re uncomfortable with euthanasia without trying drugs, what kind of that say about you? The dog was at the vet all day, apparently with neither food nor water; when I went to fetch her after three phone calls with inconclusive answers, she was weak, terrified, and barely able to stand up. When I got her to the car, she tried twice to get in on her own and fell both times because her hind legs wouldn’t push to get her in the rest of the way. And this was in full view of the front desk behind glass doors, with a vet looking on. I went back in and demanded that someone come give me a hand getting the dog into the car because, hello, she’s falling down!
So, after doing a test to prove that she didn’t have Lyme disease--which we already pretty much knew, the vet announced that x-rays are required to determine whether or not she has arthritis. Oh, and we need to pull some of her teeth. But first, let’s put her on some anti-inflammatory/analgesic medication to see if we can get her comfortable. Oh, and by the way, she’s lived well beyond the average life expectancy of a Great Dane, so every day that she’s a live you should really be thankful for. The subtext is probably “So why, you fool, are you asking me if the treatment for arthritis is going to extend her life, let alone give her any quality of life, when she could keel over by the time you finish getting her in the front door of your house?” And, of course, they have to protect themselves from lawsuits.
I’m hurt and frustrated. I’ve spent the entire day in a state of anxiety, fear, sorrow, and dim hope. I don’t want to lose my dog, but I don’t want her to suffer lingering pain, either. She’s never been “just a dog”. She’s my friend and sidekick, she’s been a rock, and she’s a member of the family. She made a place for herself in my heart and it hurts me terribly to see her so unhappy.
Poor baby. She ate some ground beef and drank about a gallon of water, and now she’s asleep

Thursday, April 1, 2010


Confound you!" snapped the fox. "Give me back my ball!" The man ignored its pleas till finally it said tearfully, "All right, you've got the ball, but you don't know how to keep it. It won't be any good to you. For me, it's a terrible loss. I tell you, if you don't give it back, I'll be your enemy forever. If you do give it back though, I'll stick to you like a protector god." - 12th-century Japanese folktale.
Ball of foxie yarn. No, I didn't go a-raiding and snitch a kitsune's hoshi-no-tama. It really needs to be skeined, soaked, and whacked against a solid suface, but I'm happy with the way it turned out. I'm planning to leave it unplied and just knit with it pretty much as is, but in order to do the shawl I still need to spin the other batt. All this has to wait until I get a niddy-noddy, because I don't see myself winding off four ounces of yarn on a tissue box or cookie sheet.