The 15 minute Blog

Things have just been busy. I’d like to write more, but I just don’t seem to find the time anymore (Damn you Google Reader!). So, in an effort to throw some sort of update on here, I’m giving myself 15 minutes to get down what I can, then it’s back to work.

We put our old dog down on Saturday. We all cried a lot and it was really sad. She was such a good dog, we had neighbors coming over to say good bye as well as our kids friends. The other dogs are having a tough go of it, without Sierra. Our youngest one, the Aussie, doesn’t want to come upstairs at night, as he always used to wait until Sierra did. There are other little things that he’s doing differently now, that he wasn’t just a few days ago. As I’m walking the dogs in the morning, I can’t help but to think of when I’d walk the same paths with Sierra not too long ago. It’s sad, but as always, we’ll move on.

My kids are trying to drive me nuts. Our oldest one, who’s matured greatly at school this year, can still piss the shit out of me when she wants to. Something came up where we wanted her to do something, and for all of her supposed maturity, she fell back into the same defensive posturing that she has always done. One thing at a time, I guess.

Our son, who’ll be going off to school next year, has taken over the role of most aggravating child, most recently held by our oldest one last year, at this same time. Every day it seems to be one more thing that we’ve got to battle about. And every day it seems he comes downstairs and says something along the line of “I’ve always wanted to do this and now since I’m 18, I was thinking of….”

We try to be really tolerant parents. I’ve never been one to take the stance of “While you’re living under my house…”. But, the other night, when he came down and said “I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo and now that I’m 18…” I came this close (hold your fingers about ¼ inch apart) from blowing a gasket. Fucking kids. It really is so much easier when you can just change their diapers and jam a bottle in their mouths to shut them up.

I’m sure, with the clarity of hindsight, that there was no way that I was this much of a pain in the ass the spring of my senior year of high school. Just no way. I was perfect and (so she says) was my wife at this time of our lives. Apparently, outside of the house, everyone thinks our kids are as well. Is it so much to ask that they try to share a little of that perfection inside our house? And, while they are at it, pick up their dirty dishes?

One minute left. So, on Thursday, September 2nd, Rush is coming to the NY State fair. My wife laughed at me when I asked her if she wanted to go. She said “I’m sure you’ll find someone to go with you”. That being said, anyone interested?

Under the tree and dreaming, continued…

Let’s pick up this happy narrative where we left off, shall we?

So, after all the drama with Sierra, as a last ditch effort before putting her down, we gave her a course of antibiotic. And wouldn’t you know, two days later she was up and around, acting like nothing had ever been wrong. At the vets, she’d become known as the dog with 9 lives.

Fast forward 6 months.

Coming home one Saturday, we’re walking in the house when we hear a weird cry from upstairs. I race upstairs and Sierra is having trouble getting up. She starts limping around, almost as though her leg has fallen asleep. I don’t think much of it as I help her downstairs and out the door.

But, the soreness in the leg continues. And continues. And continues.

So, towards the end of March, we take her in for an exam. The Doc shoots an xray of her hip and brings it in to show us. She (the vet) can’t see anything, so she proscribes a course of pain pills and rimadyl, to help decrease any swelling that she may be experiencing in the hip.
Slowly, the dog made gradual improvements, to the point where last week I began to take her on short walks again.

Until this weekend.

At some point over the weekend, something happened and Sierra lost all use of the leg. She wouldn’t put any weight on it and started dragging the leg around. We were carrying her up and down the stairs and trying to make her as comfortable as possible.

We took her in for xrays yesterday and were completely unprepared for what they showed. Apparently, the top of Sierra’s femur was rotted away by cancer and at some point over the weekend, completely snapped off. The xray showed the ball of the femur still in the socket of the hip and a bunch of bone fragments between there and the rest of the femur.

The dog with 9 lives has run out of life.

We’re picking up our daughter from college on Friday, so she can come home and spend some time with Sierra. I’ll take her, (the dog) in Saturday morning and go through the bitter ritual one more time.

We just put down once of our cats (12 years old and wasting away from some mystery cancer) two weeks ago. April has turned into the worst month for our family. My mother in law passed away several years ago in April, as well as a nephew. We’ll have put down two cats and two dogs in April as well.

For a month that can be so beautiful, with blooming plants and spring in the air, it has turned into the bitter season for us.

That’s Rimadyl not Ritalin

I was calling the vet today to renew a prescription for one of our pets. As I was on the phone with the vet, she asked me which medication we wanted renewed. Being at work and trying to multitask, I said “We want to renew the Ritalin”

There was a pause on the other end.

I quickly said “The rimadyl. We want the rimadyl, not Ritalin. She pays attention fine in class so we can take her off the Ritalin now. It’s her arthritis that’s acting up now...”. The tech had a good laugh and we moved along.

Note to self. When getting the kids medications, please make sure to pay attention…