Winter of my discontent.

Hello! Heloo: to my last 2.4 remaining lurkers and blogfriends. I’ve been remiss, I’ve been remote. I don’t care if you are pissed. OK, yeah I do. Forgive me? It’s just that I’ve been so possessed with other things. You’re #27651 on my Big List of Shit To Do and, frankly, I’m still on #17.

Yes, it sucks the wind out of you to lose your baby. Those of you without fur children would be scratching your head right now, thinking, ‘it’s just a dog.’ But then again, people without fur children probably read other blogs like, Petsnotwelcome.com, or HairFreeZone.net, and pay no mind to my little world. You’re probably the same people who get to take vacations all willy nilly, without stalking your friends to pet sit. Or you have glorious amounts of extraneous income that the rest of us earmark for “vet bills.”

Where was I? Oh yes, Samantha’s howling with the Big Dog. I can type that without bursting into tears. But they still come. When day 60 WOS came and went, I stopped thinking I could get over it easily. It’s now day 79 without Samantha and I still get weepy.

But that’s not what’s been keeping me away. No, no, no. I’ve had about 3 months worth of work in the past month. Creative HQ is humming with money making these days. I just got a call on an RFP I replied to last week. Looks like someone you know might have more work come December.

Lucy and PSP

What else? Oh, my dear Lucy up and pooped out. If you remember back in, oh, say, JULY, she was having problems. I took her to my BFFx5 at the Apple Store and the Geniusi shipped her off to be fixed. It didn’t fix whatever was ailing her. Back in I went. About 14 more times. I was on a first name basis with all the Geniusi. First it was the Logic Board. Replaced. Then the Logic Board again. Replaced. The Airport Card. Replaced. And finally, the hard drive. You guessed it, replaced. All for nada, nothing, free. ‘Cus I’m hott like that. Or because she became their white whale. Their Holy Grail of computer maladies. Or because I’m hott. A side effect was a loss of all my unbacked up data. Because I was having so much trouble with her, I could never get a good backup. So it’s gone. Poof! We now have a 500GB external HD with her name on it. Bygones.

Then what happened? About a week after PSP went to the Big Dog Park, we got a call from the beagle rescue lady. They had an “emergency” surrender. This is code for the owner being too damn lazy to take care of her pooch so she makes up some crappy ass sob story to get us to take the dog. Bitch. The CBR lady said one Ms. Paddi would be put to sleep if we didn’t take her in. Well, we were a little pre-occupied with sobbing uncontrollably at that point, so we said we’d have to wait a while. Another kind soul took her in until we got ourselves under control.

I’ll admit, for the first 78 days, there was a gigantic hole in my heart and permanent lump in my throat. I didn’t eat for five days. My diet consisted of vodka and chocolate cake. And I lost 10 pounds. Not a bad diet, even if those so-called “doctors” say it’s bad for you. Hubby and I share stories of her more troublesome adventures, just to get us laughing. Dog, I miss that girl.

In September, hubby and I jetsetted around the southwest, and when we got back, I went to get Paddi. The fella fostering her was a paraplegic on oxygen with three beagles already. Our sob story couldn’t stack up. Honestly, she’s the weirdest looking beagle I’ve seen. She’s cute, because, HELLO, she’s a beagle, but she’s weird. And fat. But home she came to be fostered by the #1 Sucker in the Universe.


shenanigans

Oh yes, Kate and Andrew trusted us with their dear, sweet, innocent Maggie May. Ms. Maggie May and Ms. Paddi Anna became instant BFF. Kate was all worried that Maggie would freak out after they left. Sorry Kate, but Maggie was too busy playing the run game with Paddi to notice you left. Rocky was a bit put out, as he always is. But eventually the bitches wore him down.

Of course, it’s all fun and games until someone puts an eye out. Or gets a cone. Mr. Fella was coned on the same day that I injured Kate’s Maggie. Yeah, yeah, she trusts me with her hound and the first thing I do is mess her up. This was vet visit #1. Vet visit #3 came on Monday when I took Paddi for her injury.


injury #2

At this point the doctors were giving me a discount. No kidding. Three dogs, seven days, three injuries. Rocky: eye infection from a cut (presumably from a claw scratching it). Maggie: cut paw from the landscape edging or glass, or someone’s idea of a cruel joke. Paddi: cut carpal pad (the “elbow”) presumably from landscape edging, again.

injury #3

Long story even longer, summer turned to fall, fall turned into crap and ski season is just around the corner. While I was basking in the mud of my misery, the world went along and got along. Paddi McFatty, aka, P-Doggy, aka, Paddi O’Tubberson, aka Stinky, is staying. Rocky loves her just as much as he could love someone that’s not himself. It’s all we could hope for.