Short One Dog

Ugh. We finally had to say goodbye to Nanna this week. I'm too sad to write much about the experience or my family's reaction right now, but I think it will probably be an important part of the grieving process later on. For now, here are some of my favorite Nanna related posts.

If I had a Nanna, I'd hug her in the morning

Are you ready to ROCK???

A great big cheer for 8 big years!

Loopy Loo and the Lurid Lump

The spring, she has sprung, yes?

Damn, I miss that girl dog. Damn.

You Vet Your Life

Have I mentioned lately how much I like difficult things? I'm a huge fan of impossible tasks, or at least doing stuff that involves military-style planning and a small army to get them done. And I like to do these things alone. And when they don't go smoothly, I get pissy and blame other people. Yeah, I'm a real doll.

So my day today appeared to be calm, not too much running around or getting dressed, just a leisurely lunch with my mom and my brother Paul who's visiting from Brooklyn.

Well screw that.

I decided that today would be a great day to bring the cats to the vet for their annual check ups and their vaccines in preparation for their teeth cleaning appointments next week. Not so horrible on the surface, except for catching, caging and transporting two furious 14-ish pound cats. And let's not forget about the baby.

Since I was already going to the vet, I might as well bring the dogs just to get their intranasal bordatella vaccines so that they can go to doggie day care tomorrow while we're all having lunch at Greene's in the city. They were just in last month for their respective lumps, so we know that nothing's wrong with them.

Ha!

The vet noticed Ozzy's new red eye spot--it's been there about 2 days and I've applied my new "watch and see for one month before freaking out and going to the vet" philospophy to it. After looking at his eye, the vet announced that Ozzy probably has a tumor on his third eyelid, a common condition in dogs with unpigmented eyelids. Since we were there, the vet might as well check out the new lump on his rear end--another "wait and see" test for me--and that one had to be sent out to the lab for further diagnostics.

Sigh.

Let me just add that my mom rocks for not letting me take on such tasks solo. Even if she did lock herself in the backseat of the car with Samson, ha ha.

This is not a Mommy Blog

Oh, wait. Crap.



Those poor, poor dogs. The cats are used to it, but the dogs were always center stage. Eventually the baby will stop doing cute things allllllllll the time and I'll remember how Nanna has been my best friend for over 11 years and how Ozzy has consistently provided me with hours of entertainment, if not headaches and an ulcer.



I'm so ashamed. I didn't even post about the lumps. That's right--two for Nanna and one for Ozzy. (They were all either fatty tumors or benign sarcomas, so we came out ahead in that match.) Nor did I post about the bangs (I got BANGS last week. The jury is still out, waaay out.) Honestly, what kind of person have I become? I person with lumpy dogs and a questionable hair do, apparently.

It's a lethal combination of spending 24/7 with Samson and...spending 24/7 with Samson. Makes for some difficult blogging. Either type one-handed--and I have a hard enough time typing with both hands--or use my precious sleeping baby time to blog, laundry and hygiene be damned. And even if I did blog more, there's not much to blog about other than my fleshy pink master. I could blog about the social hierarchy of my Friday afternoon playgroup. Did you know that infant playgroups have cliques? It's absolutely ridiculous. Or I could blog about the wonders of Baby Einstein videos and damn how I wish they had these when I was in high school. But it all comes back to Samson.

And poor Nanna, she knows it. She's lying on the floor, looking up at me with those big brown eyes. Do you even know where my belly is?

But I've got to make more of an effort, for the sake of my own identity. Wait, I do have an identity, right? Or did I loose it in that pile of onsies waiting to be laundered?

Updates on all fronts

Animals:

Nanna got her stitches removed, and the incision promptly filled up will fluid, making a jiggly tennis-ball sized lump of goo. The vet assured me today that this is OK, drained it, and told me to massage the incision site twice daily to avoid fluid deposits. At which point, I swear to god, Nanna looked up at me and smiled.

Miru gets to stay unmedicated for another 6 months, at which point he is gets another cardiogram ("cardiogram" always makes me think of "candygram" which always makes me think of the land shark routine from SNL. And now it also makes me think of this.) to check his rate of deterioration. Fine by me.

Milhouse gets louder and friendlier every day. Has taken to sleeping in laundry baskets full of freshly washed baby clothes.

Ozzy continues to fart frequently. Sigh. Has mastered the art of hogging a California King sized bed. Sigh.

Married life:

Just over one month old. It's great! Both the Social Security office and the DMV were very helpful when I changed my name, and customer service representatives keep congratulating me when I call them to order new cards, checks, what have you.

Samson:

Terrific! We've definitely moved into that super uncomfortable phase of pregnancy where sleep is hard to come by and food must be consumed in small quantities because there's no room in my body for anything but a baby, let alone a full order of garlic mashed potatoes form Black Angus. We won't go into how little room there is for my bladder or it's contents. I did have to make a little trip to the emergency room Friday night when I sliced the bejesus out of my thumb while chopping onions. The thumb's fine, but the tetanus shot they gave me still kills. The ER doctor promised me that the tetanus shot wouldn't cause Samson to be born with horns or wings (although how cool would that be?), and I came to a concrete decision regarding the epidural. I don't like pain at all. I've been whiny and cranky and mopey for the last three days, and I swear my arm is going to fall off or explode at any second. Not to mention my ginsued thumb. Ow.

So all in all, things are good if not a little whiny. Coming soon: something hopefully a little more interesting than this kind of stuff.

First Crush

I just love this video.



Nanna is healing nicely; stitches come out next Tuesday. Still waiting on Miru's test results. Milhouse tried to eat my granola this morning. Ozzy still smells questionable. Samson is preparing for the world soccer championship, or maybe some kind of martial arts contest. Either way, he's sure to being home the gold.

In other words, not much is happening around here lately, which is good. I'm getting a little more tired every day, and I'm training for the napolympics. I'm hoping to get sponsored by Sealy or Mattress Discounters.

Lumpdate

Nanna is out of surgery and slowly recovering. Miru's heart may or may not be safe for another year. Ozzy most likely has nothing more than a lump on his tummy. Oh, and gingivitis.

We won't know 100% for sure whether or not the cancer in Nanna's lump has spread beyond the bits reoved in her surgery until next week, but the doctor felt pretty confident that she got everything. Even then, there's nothing that says the same cancerous cells won't show up in some other tumors a few months down the road. But for now, she's lying on the living room floor, more zonked out than I've ever seen her before, with another one of those frankendog looking row of stitches running up from her belly to her side. The doc says that this recover will take longer than her previous ones because they had to take a good chunk of muscle out off of her rib (again), plus she's a bit older this time around (11 years old at the end of this month!). Poor, poor dear.

Miru's heart murmur is a clue that he will eventually develop this cat condition that has a crappy symptom: sudden death. But because it was caught before his heart exploded, we can monitor it as time goes by and get him on medication before there's any manifestation of physical symptoms (like suddenly dropping dead). The question is just when he goes on the medication, and the today's cardiogram should give us the answer to that question by next week. Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if the side effects of said medication are hair loss, incontinence and kitty dementia. He's fine tonight, except for the fact that he's being tortured by his cruel captors who keep him locked in a townhouse when by all rights he should be roaming the streets of Foster City till the wee hours.

Ozzy basically got jealous of all of the attention Nanna was getting regarding her lump, so he said "Look, look! I gots a lump too! Can I have some turkey now?" If any dog could will himself to have a small, non-cancerous, turkey-getting lump, it's the Oz. But We're glad he's OK (comparatively).

Human health: Samson and I had our 32 week check-up today (what, only the pets get to go to the doctor today?), and we are practically perfect in every way. Seriously. I love this doctor because he says things like that. Our fundus is the right hight (31 centimeters), our blood pressure is just right (some bigger number over some other smaller number), and our weight is just right (yeah, as if I'm going to post that here). Hearts beat as they should, movement is present and regular, everything is normal and A-OK. I love it! Now if only they doctor could do something about this heat wave so I could get some sleep...

Another Lump for Nanna

And this one's another cancerous tumor. But thanks to constant belly rubs and our daily post-breakfast love fest, I found it really early and the vet thinks it will be no problem to remove the whole thing and get good margins on Thursday. The same day Miru goes in for his echo-cardio-thingy to check the status of his heart murmur. We'll probably have to go in even earlier in the week because we found another lump last night, this one on Ozzy's belly. His first lump. My first 3-animal medical crisis week. Plus, when Miru got out last week, he brought home some fleas. Yay.

But not all news is sick animal news. Some of it is expecting friend news! LDB up in Portland is growing a little friend in her belly for Samson to play with! How cool is that! Four hundred cool.

The portrait shots from the wedding are up on Picasa Web. There are still some digital photos and a few quick cams to handle, but I think we're mostly set on picture posting.

Medium sized update

So I went up to the Sea Ranch for 3 days last week to get my bearings in regards to the wedding. The wedding that's in exactly one month. Ahem.

The verdict: boy did we pick the right place to start the rest of our lives together. Thanks to mom and dad's scouting skills and their intrepid ability to test fancy restaurants for us in our absence, the food will match the beauty and the intensity that is the Northern California coast and redwoods. And that's really what a wedding is all about, right?

Once again, I'm torn by how happy we are to have a nice, simple, intimate (aka "small") ceremony, one that's more or less devoid of stress and time-intensive decisions about tablecloths and seating arrangements, and my desire to share this wonderful place and this wonderful event with all of my nearest and dearest. Thankfully, our friends and family understand, and they support our decision. And that makes me feel less torn.

On to the story of Ozzylocks and the Three Deer. Well, there's no story really. There were these three deer grazing outside our house, and Ozzy watched them and made deeply primal growly noises. As if, Oz. They have horns, buddy. Horns.



Nanna, of course, had more important things to worry about. Like all of these sticks! Who left all of these sticks lying around here?? How am I supposed to fetch ALL OF THESE STICKS???



Other business: Max will be home in 2 short weeks! The movers will come to pack up the rest our belongings in Dublin in a week or so, then I get my best friend back, my bringer of milkshakes and not-so-secret Degrassi TNG watching pal. Life is good.

Other other business: the AIDS Walk went really, really well last Sunday. Extra super fantastic THANK YOUs to everyone who supported me by donating. I met my fundraising goal, and was able to take part in something really special and helpful to my community. I walked the whole 10K with team captain Laura and her dad, not to mention my four-legged cohorts. Oz and Nanna did splendidly, and were incredible tuckered out by the end of the weekend--three days chasing sticks in the ocean, multiple trips to the dog park, and one heck of a long walk through a fog-filled Golden Gate Park. I think they've finally forgiven me for leaving them for a year.

Back in California

It's good to be home. The dogs are finally starting to remember that I'm the pack leader, which means I get followed around a bit more, and when I wake up in the middle of the night to pee (like, 6 times) I can hear Nanna snoring away on her pile of dog beds. It's always hard the first few days when I come home; the cats hardly come near me and the dogs sleep down the hall with their "real parents." But a few days of cookies and trips to the dog park bring back the natural order of things pretty quickly.

We're heading to the Sea Ranch tomorrow to finalize some wedding details--you know, silly stuff like food, alcohol, and ceremony locations. Even though we're having the smallest wedding known to man, there's still planning to be done and food to be tasted. I got my 30 weeks pregnant wedding dress recently, and I absolutely love it. When I tried it on I felt like a knocked up Cinderella. It's very chiffon-y and flow-y and white--all the things a wedding gown should be, but with a little extra room in the right places. Plus the dress weighs less than 2 pounds--Samson and I will be very comfortable on the big day.

Chances are that I won't be blogging quite so much over the next few weeks--it's just a hunch but we'll see.

Don't You Forget About Me

Boy, have I ever been MIA. Incommunicado. Fallen off the face of the earth. And what's worse, I've left that clip from the Sarah Silverman Program as my last post for people to see when they check in on the blog. Not my finest bit of blogging. Oh well.

I've been in San Francisco since Friday (technically, Foster City and Palo Alto), and the weather alone has made me consider skipping out on my flight back to Dublin on Sunday. 70's and 80's, clear blue skies--flip flop weather. It's been great being back in the office this week, actually seeing and talking to people during the day. It's a big change from my life as a Dublin hermit, and a very healthy addition to my daily routine. As much as I'll miss Ireland and Europe, I'm looking forward to coming back to a place where I can interact with friends and family on a level other than email and long-distance, time-zone impaired phone calls.

Lots of extra super fantastic things have happened since I got here. Beli Deli sandwiches. An A+ grade on my checkup at the dentist. More Nanna belly than you can shake a stick at. Alaskan King Crab legs. Pie day. Sharks hockey. Hugs from my local nearest and dearest. And even though my peeps in Oregon, Texas, Colorado and Minnesota aren't represented, I feel a little closer to them than normal.

If I had a Nanna, I'd hug her in morning

Oh! Wait! I do have a Nanna!





Yup, this weekend's going to be chock full dog belly. CHOCK FULL.

Don't fret, I will involve Ozzy's belly as well. But girl belly is just so much nicer.

And all of this supposed cuddling and dog belly will take place assuming that there's room for me on the bed. which is questionable.



Other parts of the coming week will be spent with this lovely creature:



Mammas, don't let your best friends from high school grow up to be cowgirls!

Turn Around, Bright Eyes

Nanna has been extra super cute lately. Last night, as I was serenading her with "Total Eclipse of the Heart," she turned around and looked at me with such an expression of love. Such adoration, respect, awe, and more than a little codependency. Thank goodness cell phones are equipped with cameras to capture these loving moments of tenderness.



By the way, if you're looking for a good cover of Total Eclipse of the Heart (and you know how I feel about covers), check out this one. Warning: contains partial (and--I'm guessing--unintentional) nudity. And kitchen appliances. Those crazy Norwegians! And here's a link to some Total Eclipse of the Heart trivia for good measure. Why not.

And I dare you to get this song out of your head by tomorrow morning.

Home Sweet Home

I'm back, and glad to be home. I had a great vacation-slash-business trip, but nothing says lovin' like coming home to a house full of animals. Still, I'm not sure I appreciate the language of cat, even if they're saying nice things. Miru will compassionately take the time out of his busy schedule (which includes, but is not limited to, sunning, licking, and sleeping) to tell me that he misses me, and wishes I'd come home by throwing up at the foot of the stairs. Sweet guy. And he graciously welcomes me home by sticking his tail in my face. Lovely. Really.

Cat behavior aside, it was great to spend the weekend puttering, knitting and laundering. And Nanna is always pretty clingy the first few days after I come back from traveling, so I get a couple nights of super cuddle dog extreme, before she reverts back to her normal teenage girl-esque self ("God, Mother I hate you! You are so embarrassing! I can't "wait to move out!").

At least I'll always have Ozzy, the Gomer Pyle of dogs.



By the way, this was my view from the plane on the way to Portland--that's the one and only Sutro Tower peeking out above the fog. I love 6 am flights out of SFO!

A big, hot, steaming cup of Perry Como

Till the wells run dry and each mountain disappears
I'll be there for you to care for you through laughter and through tears
So take my heart in sweet surrender and tenderly say that I'm
The one you love and live for till the end of time

I swear to you, if coffee could sing, this is what it would have sung to me this morning. It was one of those mornings where I resembled Hans Moleman a little more than I would care to admit--all squnity-eyed and puckered, but minus the football.

Terror struck when I went into the kitchen at the office to pour that first, dark, kick-you-right-in-the-behind-cup and the coffee pot was (sob) broken. I let out a mournful "Nooooooo!" and collapsed, trembling on the kitchen floor. After about 5 minutes of knee-licking by my trusty knee-licker, Nanna, I regained my composure, stood up, and noticed that the coffee pot had merely become unplugged when I fiddled with the toaster oven while toasting my bagel. I plugged the coffee pot back in, and enjoyed a cup of fresh, hot coffee five minutes later.

I can be such a drama queen.

Just dog

No more Frankendog! Nanna's staples came out today:



The good Dr. Roosein was very impressed with Nanna's cowering abilities. We all were.

Going to the vet reminds me of the "Fortunately/Unfortunately" books we used to read in grade school. "Unfortunately, Nanna had to go to the vet. Fortunately, the vet is across the street from the best sandwiches in the world and Miriam's office." Hugs were exchanged. Turkey sandwiches were consumed.



That is one happy dog in the sun!

Another reason to be happy

Today a woman has come to our office to bathe our dogs.

To bathe our dogs.

Mobile dog grooming is a beautiful thing. I mean, really beautiful.

I used to wash my dogs, no problem. We'd hop into the tub together and there would be special smelly doggie shampoo and special doggie bath towels. And one hell of a messy bathroom when all was said and done, but well worth it when you share your bed with 2 60+ pound dogs.

Then I lived in an apartment with poor drainage (and a fairly water bill-conscious landlord) where dog washing in the tub was a no-no. So I got used to paying someone to wash the beasts for me. It's a real luxury, to be sure, but nothing says "clean" like dogs who smell like strippers.

But it's impossible to get them done on weekdays, and with limited weekend hours I found the time between baths growing longer and longer...and longer. So when Rhonda mentioned that her groomer now has a mobile unit, The Soggy Doggy, we simply had to try it out. Besides, Nanna had begun to smell not unlike an old shoe.

Now there are some super clean dogs in this office. And clean dogs are frisky dogs!



Just look at them run around the office in frantic, expanding circles. Can you smell the clean? OK, granted, it still smells kind of like wet dog, which is the opposite smell of clean. But the promise of clean-smelling dogs has it's own aroma.

Why I Can Never Carpool With Johnny Cash

About 2 1/2 years ago, I got this really nice new Subaru Outback. It's a station wagon, complete with a little barrier-gate thing to keep the dogs in the way back. For 2 1/2 years, I got out of the car without dog hair on my clothes. For 2 1/2 years, I drank coffee without dog hair in while I drove to work. For 2 1/2 years, I had room for my purse, sweaters, accoutrements etc. in my car in addition to myself.

Two weeks ago, that all changed.

After I was rear-ended last Fall, Nanna grew increasingly terrified of my car (just my car, as opposed to cars in general). Thusly, she grew increasingly mopey and depressed, each day becoming more and more like a teenaged girl. But I was steadfast in my conviction to keep the front of the car fur-free.

I am steadfast in my convictions no longer.

Sure, I fastened a nice blue flannel sheet over the interior of the back two-thirds of the car to act as a fur magnet. But Ozzy is the kind of dog who protects his car by sitting upright in the driver's seat, as if to say, "No, potential car thief, you cannot steal this car, for I am a human and I am about to drive my car off to safety. Any minute now." Fur magnet, schmur magnet.

Yet, am I thrilled to be reunited with joys of a car open to dogs. Like catching glimpses of dog head and dog tongue in my rear mirrors as they hang their heads out the back windows. Or like this morning when Ozzy decided he wanted to sit up front with me. He can make himself just as small as he needs to if it means fitting on various types of furniture.

Frankendog

Poor thing. Poor, poor girl. Who would have thought a little fatty tumor attached to her rib would cause this:
















Yeah, I know, that wasn't gross enough. Try this:




















That's a six-inch incision held together with more than 2 dozen staples. She is such a trooper. She's had something like 7 surgeries, including getting various gashes stitched up, and she always heals up 100%.

Ozzy has been very concerned since we picked Nanna up from the vet. Since Nanna can't play, Ozzy seems to be taking his frustration out on Milhouse (he wouldn't dare try that crap with Miru.). There was a lot of high-pitched whining and angry-kitty yowling going in my house last night.

Are you ready to ROCK????

Guess who's opening for Devo at Scott & Dana's wedding? Blood, Sweat & Tears!

A Gal of My Word

The band is starting rehearsals for Dana and Scott's wedding...