"Jesus Christ, this man wants me to write a detailed, five paragraph essay on why I do something!" Generally, I do something, or anything because I want to, (besides paying bills, that's because I have to.) I have absolutely zero time left, my plate is full with trying to organize two 17 year old girls and a husband to go on vacation. Gotta get the dogs to their destination, clean out the refrigerator, go to the dump, fill the truck with gas, tell the credit card companies we are leaving so they don't shut the cards off half way through, verify that people will feed our five cats, AND pack! "What the hell am I going to write about and when will I have time to do it?" I guess, my only option is to tote along this handy dandy laptop to Florida with me, and figure it out there!
After finally arriving in Florida, dealing with the incredibly slow counter attendants, weighing our bags, making sure each person had their own tickets, and toting luggage for what seemed miles upon miles, we finally get our car. Me, driving in Portland Maine is a joke to say the least, the trip out of Orlando Florida airport would have made a first rate reality TV show. Luggage piled so high that I could not see out the rear view, the girls in the back giggling about the latest gossip on Facebook, and my husband spouting off about some jerk that was in line at the airport, while I am trying my damndest to listen to the foreign lady talking out of my GPS.
We did, two hours later, make it to our destination. A very nice trailer that my mother has rented for her and my grandfather for the winter months. The familiar sound of her voice and the smile on her face made it all worth while. The kids went about claiming their space, my husband found a couch that I know he had been looking forward to for hours, and I went to our assigned bedroom and pulled out my handy dandy laptop to write about the only thing on my mind,,our family vacations.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Meta Graf/Reaction Graf on Cause Essay
"Jesus Christ, this man wants me to write a detailed, five paragraph essay on why I do something!" Generally, I do something, or anything because I want to, (besides paying bills, that's because I have to.) I have absolutely zero time left, my plate is full with trying to organize two 17 year old girls and a husband to go on vacation. Gotta get the dogs to their destination, clean out the refrigerator, go to the dump, fill the truck with gas, tell the credit card companies we are leaving so they don't shut the cards off half way through, verify that people will feed our five cats, AND pack! "What the hell am I going to write about and when will I have time to do it?" I guess, my only option is to tote along this handy dandy laptop to Florida with me, and figure it out there!
After finally arriving in Florida, dealing with the incredibly slow counter attendants, weighing our bags, making sure each person had their own tickets, and toting luggage for what seemed miles upon miles, we finally get our car. Me, driving in Portland Maine is a joke to say the least, the trip out of Orlando Florida airport would have made a first rate reality TV show. Luggage piled so high that I could not see out the rear view, the girls in the back giggling about the latest gossip on Facebook, and my husband spouting off about some jerk that was in line at the airport, while I am trying my damndest to listen to the foreign lady talking out of my GPS.
We did make
After finally arriving in Florida, dealing with the incredibly slow counter attendants, weighing our bags, making sure each person had their own tickets, and toting luggage for what seemed miles upon miles, we finally get our car. Me, driving in Portland Maine is a joke to say the least, the trip out of Orlando Florida airport would have made a first rate reality TV show. Luggage piled so high that I could not see out the rear view, the girls in the back giggling about the latest gossip on Facebook, and my husband spouting off about some jerk that was in line at the airport, while I am trying my damndest to listen to the foreign lady talking out of my GPS.
We did make
Monday, February 27, 2012
Cause Essay #1
Woohoo!!! Cancun, Mexico here we come. My family looks forward to the month of February more than the arrival of Santa Claus most years because by then the built up anticipation for our yearly vacation has reached the boiling point. We are practically exploding at the seems awaiting the day of departure. There are several reasons we choose warm, exotic locations for our get aways, the warm sun on our faces and brilliant breezes in our hair, takes us away from the exhausting cold and misery of Maine winters.
My husband is known as the classic "Workaholic". He owns two scrap metal recycling facilities in Central Maine, where he is needed to be present until all of the material that needs to be bought, processed, and shipped, is in its appropriate locations. During the summer months, he works seven days a week, 60 - 70 hrs total. The winter months are slower, allowing for our vacation in February. He needs the time to relax and enjoy himself, to escape the chaos of his stressful title.
Another reason we choose to escape in February is the brutal Maine winters. Our vacations give us a break from the usual cold and snow that arrives in Maine starting the month of October. We have a short break that serves as a reminder that warm wheather is still available, and the entire planet has not frozen over into a giant ice ball. For one, maybe two weeks, we don't have to worry about the wood stove, or shovel the steps, or keep an eye on the boiler. We can just enjoy the sandals, shorts, and the sun.
Raising our daughter to understand that there is more in this world to enjoy than our little 20 mile radius that we seem to adhere to is another factor for our yearly vacations. Our hopes are that since she has had the chance to travel and experience some beautifully amazing places, and do exciting adventures like zip lines in Mexico, and snorkeling off a catamaran in the Bahamas, that as an adult, she will not settle for anything less. She knows that these places are not out of her reach, and if she works hard, one day maybe she will be bringing her family on beautiful vacations.
Each year is a new adventure that does more than warm our blood and put a tan on our faces. It creates family memories that will last with us for a life time. It is a reminder that beyond the every day routine of our sometimes seeming, seperate lives we can enjoy life. My husband and I were both raised, if you work hard, you will be rewarded eventually. Our yearly vacations are our long deserved fruitful rewards that we will treasure for all of our days.
Each year is a new adventure that does more than warm our blood and put a tan on our faces. It creates family memories that will last with us for a life time. It is a reminder that beyond the every day routine of our sometimes seeming, seperate lives we can enjoy life. My husband and I were both raised, if you work hard, you will be rewarded eventually. Our yearly vacations are our long deserved fruitful rewards that we will treasure for all of our days.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Isearch Research Plan
- We have had the unfortunate luck (more unfortunae luck...where it comes to Lilly) of Lillys long time veterinarian selling his business. It was taken over by a young couple who are very nice and seem to know what they are talking about, but they don't know my dog. I had the fortunate luck of having an appointment for Lilly on a day when Dr. Miller, the original owner and Lillys buddy, was there. He agreed to talk with me about my paper and answer any questions he could. I have found five web sites that seem to answer my various questions. www.canine-epilepsy.net "Understanding Your Pets Epilepsy", gave a variety of reasons for seizures, not all of them being epilepsy. http://purelypets.com, this site offered natural treatments for epilepsy and talks a lot about the diet of the dog relating to seizures. www.canine-epilepsy.com, "Living With Your Epileptic Dog", is a non medical site but, it has a lot of different scenarios from other pet owners with the affliction and how they deal with and treat their dogs. www.peteducation.com, "A Cause of Seizures in Dogs" is a site that relays different causes for seizures, from hereditary to head trauma, to liver disease, to thyroid issues (which she has). I feel that I can find all of the information that I have been seeking plus more about Lillys condition. All of this new found information may even lead into a new form of treatment or at the least more educated questions for her veterinarian.
Outro Graf to Cause Essay
Each year is a new adventure that does more than warm our blood and put a tan on our faces. It creates family memories that will last with us for a life time. It is a reminder that beyond the every day routine of our sometimes seeming, seperate lives. we can enjoy life. My husband and I were both raised, if you work hard, you will be rewarded eventually. Our yearly vacations are our long deserved fruitful rewards that we will treasure for all of our days.
Intro #2 Cause Essay
Woohoo!!! Cancun, Mexico here we come. My family looks forward to the month of February more than the arrival of Santa Claus most years. For the past six years we have taken a family vacation to an exotic location that will provide us with sun on our faces and warm breezes in our hair. I start planning for the next year as soon as we get home, spending countless hours at the computer looking for the cheapest prices and the perfect location. This year Mexico's beautiful sandy beaches, mysterious cenotes, and the rich cultural history of the ruins was the perfect match.
Intro #1 Cause Essay
Every year for the past six years we have planned a vacation that takes us away to someplace warm. I spend countless hours on the computer looking at various different locations, hoping to find the one that meets all of our vacation needs, and offers a new and exciting adventure. This year it's going to be Cancun, Mexico. The beautiful sandy beaches, the cenotes, and the ruins are all part of the rich history that encompasses the area. My daughter looks forward to the month of February more than Christmas I believe.
Place
Sometimes the waves would be pounding at the small aluminum vessel with a ferociousness that should have sent us all into the drink, taking all of our rations for the weekend to the bottom of the dark, deep blue pond, never to be seen again. The white caps, looking as though they were going to swallow us up with the next curl. Other days, it was like skimming across a beautifully mirrored sheet of glass, the only ripples were the ones that were following behind us, making the perfect V shape, pointing out the direction we were headed. It didn't matter to me what the wheather was like, windy, pouring rain, or a beautiful sun filled day, I was on the pond. I was happy.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Real Life Research
I knew that I wanted to go back to school, in fact I always knew that I wanted to further my education, but just how far do I want to go? I am 41 years old, with a daughter who is a junior in high school, soon I will be paying for her college education, can I really afford to pay for the both of us to go to school at the same time? Tuition, books, insurance, taxes,,,,how much money is this going to drain from our already depleting savings?
I found myself in a do or die situation. "Take your chance now and don't let it slip away again, you'll just find another excuse not to go." When I was in my early 20's, that was the case, either I couldn't afford it at the time, or something or someone was more important. This was the last opportunity for me to pursue my education, actually work on myself and not work for someone else. In the mail, with the very unimpressive Unemployment Compensation check, was a letter pertaining to the one dream that had been pushed to the far back reaches of my mind, Apply for College,and Take Advantage of the Opportunities, written in big bold letters.
With the telephone numbers in hand I began making calls, from one very helpful person to the next offering information that could be nothing but helpful. I made the decision to meet with one very capable, informative, and educated woman that actually made my dream happen. She helped me with the first application to a school that turned out not to be the correct fit for me, but she also gave me more phone numbers to people that would give me that much needed push to pick up the phone and continue with the search.
I am now enrolled in college, fulfilling the so-called "long lost dream." Lifes research has taught me that if you actually apply yourself and learn from your mistakes, just maybe, if you're a hard worker, and you're not too stubborn to listen to those little hints, that might even come in the form of a letter in the mail; you can accomplish your dreams. Just do it, don't worry about the financial repercussions or at what age group society has lumped you into. Don't even worry about the estranged looks that a so-called friend my throw your way. Just do it for you.
I found myself in a do or die situation. "Take your chance now and don't let it slip away again, you'll just find another excuse not to go." When I was in my early 20's, that was the case, either I couldn't afford it at the time, or something or someone was more important. This was the last opportunity for me to pursue my education, actually work on myself and not work for someone else. In the mail, with the very unimpressive Unemployment Compensation check, was a letter pertaining to the one dream that had been pushed to the far back reaches of my mind, Apply for College,and Take Advantage of the Opportunities, written in big bold letters.
With the telephone numbers in hand I began making calls, from one very helpful person to the next offering information that could be nothing but helpful. I made the decision to meet with one very capable, informative, and educated woman that actually made my dream happen. She helped me with the first application to a school that turned out not to be the correct fit for me, but she also gave me more phone numbers to people that would give me that much needed push to pick up the phone and continue with the search.
I am now enrolled in college, fulfilling the so-called "long lost dream." Lifes research has taught me that if you actually apply yourself and learn from your mistakes, just maybe, if you're a hard worker, and you're not too stubborn to listen to those little hints, that might even come in the form of a letter in the mail; you can accomplish your dreams. Just do it, don't worry about the financial repercussions or at what age group society has lumped you into. Don't even worry about the estranged looks that a so-called friend my throw your way. Just do it for you.
Monday, February 6, 2012
What I know and Don't Know
I do know that there is no cure for Lillys epilepsy. Her lifestyle and state of health is completely up to me. As far as her medications is concerned, the first veterinarian that she had been seing since day one did not put her on any type of treatment. It wasn't until the age of three that I decided to switch vets, from the advice of a new friend, who happened to be a vet tech. They immediately put her on a twice a day dose of Phenobarb 60 mg. She didn't have a seizure for almost a year and the veterinarian dropped her dossage down to once a day. This seemed to do the trick for two years until she had two seizures in a three month time period. She has been back on the twice daily dose since then. I know that Phenobarb is what they give people with epilepsy and I have not taken her to another veterinarian, so I am not sure if there is another drug that is available.
The veterinarian says that diet has nothing to do with her seizures. He has told me that the best food for her just happens to be the kind that he sells from his office, but unless I am willing to sacrifice putting food in our refrigerator I can't afford that. I buy the most expensive brand at Walmart, with the first ingredient being meat. The vet also tells me that he has never heard any conclusive evidence that people food would cause a seizure. This is one of the questions that I would really like to find an answer to. Lilly is a food hound, and I can recall five of her seizures happening the day after she has gotten on the counter and eaten a stick of butter, or a loaf of bread. The worst seizure she ever had was the day after a family cookout. All of the food was on a table on the porch, everyone was talking, or in the pool, anyway, nobody was watching. The table got the full Lilly treatment. She cleaned it dry, except for the vegetables. The next day, her seizure had lasted for over an hour, she lost bowel control, and the vet finally told me to bring her in. My opinion is salt, I think that salt dehydrates her, and causes an imbalance that triggers a seizure. I will research this theory further.
I have spoken to Weston, the person we got Lilly from. He told me that neither the father nor Lillys mother has epilepsy, and that their dog had four litters and he had never heard from any of their owners of a problem. Did one of their parents have epilepsy? I probably will never know the answer to this question because of the extensive breeding of labradors these days. I will research the question online though to see if there has been any documentation of the such.
Was she born with the disease, well the word disease is a good clue. From what I understand about the medical field (which is not much), a disease is something that you are born with. It is in your body from birth and comes out to be seen at different stages. Why at the age of two though, for both of my dogs that have been burdened with this affliction? I don't understand or have an answer to that yet, maybe never will.
I know that actions or noises can trigger an epileptic seizure in Lilly. Several of her episodes have been preceeded by a startling noise, or being woken up from a sound sleep. We have long since stopped waking her at night to put her in her kennel. She had too many episodes that began half way down the stairs, it was sure to end in a broken bone or worse. I also am certain that she realizes something is going to happen before it actually occurs. Twice that I can think of I wasn't right handy to her, maybe in the shower, or outside. My daughter found her laying next to her bedroom door. That leads me to believe that she not only knows that its coming but she doesn't want to be alone. I am certain that she feels safer when someone is with her.
I have always sat with Lilly during her episodes, I have never asked the vet if this is the correct way to deal with her. Maybe it is the mother instinct, or me just being hopeful that she realizes that I am there with her. She looks straight at me if she can during the seizures, and I know that she will try to get up if I have to leave her side at any time, so I sit with her and talk softly, trying to comfort her and wishing the entire time that this will end quickly.
I don't know how many levels of seizures there are, Lilly began with short, maybe 3 minute episodes. The time before last, (the picnic) it was over an hour and she had lost control of her bowels. The vet said that he had only seen two dogs walk out of his office after a seizure of that magnitude. They gave her a shot of valium and kept spraying the bottom of her feet with cold water to bring down her temperature. They sent me home with a needle and a dose of the miracle drug, with the warning that it might not always work. It just calms her muscles and lets her get her bearings is the way it was described to work to me.
I know she remembers that something has happened. She acts almost embarrassed at times. When she was younger she would slowly get up and get a drink, within five minutes, you would never know that anything had happened. Now that she's eight, it really has an effect. She is lazy and tired for a couple days. I know there will be more to come, but if I am better educated about her seizures, maybe there is more I can do to help her.
The veterinarian says that diet has nothing to do with her seizures. He has told me that the best food for her just happens to be the kind that he sells from his office, but unless I am willing to sacrifice putting food in our refrigerator I can't afford that. I buy the most expensive brand at Walmart, with the first ingredient being meat. The vet also tells me that he has never heard any conclusive evidence that people food would cause a seizure. This is one of the questions that I would really like to find an answer to. Lilly is a food hound, and I can recall five of her seizures happening the day after she has gotten on the counter and eaten a stick of butter, or a loaf of bread. The worst seizure she ever had was the day after a family cookout. All of the food was on a table on the porch, everyone was talking, or in the pool, anyway, nobody was watching. The table got the full Lilly treatment. She cleaned it dry, except for the vegetables. The next day, her seizure had lasted for over an hour, she lost bowel control, and the vet finally told me to bring her in. My opinion is salt, I think that salt dehydrates her, and causes an imbalance that triggers a seizure. I will research this theory further.
I have spoken to Weston, the person we got Lilly from. He told me that neither the father nor Lillys mother has epilepsy, and that their dog had four litters and he had never heard from any of their owners of a problem. Did one of their parents have epilepsy? I probably will never know the answer to this question because of the extensive breeding of labradors these days. I will research the question online though to see if there has been any documentation of the such.
Was she born with the disease, well the word disease is a good clue. From what I understand about the medical field (which is not much), a disease is something that you are born with. It is in your body from birth and comes out to be seen at different stages. Why at the age of two though, for both of my dogs that have been burdened with this affliction? I don't understand or have an answer to that yet, maybe never will.
I know that actions or noises can trigger an epileptic seizure in Lilly. Several of her episodes have been preceeded by a startling noise, or being woken up from a sound sleep. We have long since stopped waking her at night to put her in her kennel. She had too many episodes that began half way down the stairs, it was sure to end in a broken bone or worse. I also am certain that she realizes something is going to happen before it actually occurs. Twice that I can think of I wasn't right handy to her, maybe in the shower, or outside. My daughter found her laying next to her bedroom door. That leads me to believe that she not only knows that its coming but she doesn't want to be alone. I am certain that she feels safer when someone is with her.
I have always sat with Lilly during her episodes, I have never asked the vet if this is the correct way to deal with her. Maybe it is the mother instinct, or me just being hopeful that she realizes that I am there with her. She looks straight at me if she can during the seizures, and I know that she will try to get up if I have to leave her side at any time, so I sit with her and talk softly, trying to comfort her and wishing the entire time that this will end quickly.
I don't know how many levels of seizures there are, Lilly began with short, maybe 3 minute episodes. The time before last, (the picnic) it was over an hour and she had lost control of her bowels. The vet said that he had only seen two dogs walk out of his office after a seizure of that magnitude. They gave her a shot of valium and kept spraying the bottom of her feet with cold water to bring down her temperature. They sent me home with a needle and a dose of the miracle drug, with the warning that it might not always work. It just calms her muscles and lets her get her bearings is the way it was described to work to me.
I know she remembers that something has happened. She acts almost embarrassed at times. When she was younger she would slowly get up and get a drink, within five minutes, you would never know that anything had happened. Now that she's eight, it really has an effect. She is lazy and tired for a couple days. I know there will be more to come, but if I am better educated about her seizures, maybe there is more I can do to help her.
Person
"Oh Shit!, it's Wednesday again, what time is it?" Shit, almost 3:30, maybe he won't be in this week. I used to dred every Wednesday at 3:45. I knew he would be in, he never missed a week. Never missed a chance to spread his womanizing, degrading, belittling, smart ass comments. What will it be this week, more about his opinion that a woman shouldn't be doing my job, or maybe another slam about my husbands ass crack hanging out when he bends over...I never knew what kind of meaningless, hurtfull, dribble was going to come out of his mouth next. Yup, just like clockwork, here he is.
I said my normal "Good afternoon Roy." only to get a return of "Jesus Darcy, if your tits get any bigger, you are going to have push your desk out." That's was it, today was the last day, no more bullshit from this short, little rotund man that reminded me of a weeble wobble I used to play with as a child. I couldn't hold it in any longer,,"You know Roy, if your belly gets any bigger, you're going to have to trade that belt in for something else. I know, I can get you a piece of wire from outback. How long do we need it?" I happened to have a tape measure sitting on my desk from some project the mechanic had been working on. I smiled the sweetest smile I could possibly muster up, and held out the tape measure. Roys face became a cold, white, blank. He had nothing to say, he turned and walked out the office door.
Roy changed after that Wednesday afternoon. There were no smart ass comments, no womanizing remarks pertaining to any part of my body, no cracks about my husbands crack. He continued to come into the shop at his normal time, Wednesday afternoons at 3:45. We now discussed his four wheeler, or what I had done that weekend. It took him a while, this wasn't instanteous by no means, but Roys trips in were no longer the doom of my day. If I see him at the grocery store or at the bank, I will actually stop and say hello, not try to hide behind the closest thing possible, trying to plan my escape. I think Roy just needed a challenge, or a slap in the face...but all in all I think I gave him both.
I said my normal "Good afternoon Roy." only to get a return of "Jesus Darcy, if your tits get any bigger, you are going to have push your desk out." That's was it, today was the last day, no more bullshit from this short, little rotund man that reminded me of a weeble wobble I used to play with as a child. I couldn't hold it in any longer,,"You know Roy, if your belly gets any bigger, you're going to have to trade that belt in for something else. I know, I can get you a piece of wire from outback. How long do we need it?" I happened to have a tape measure sitting on my desk from some project the mechanic had been working on. I smiled the sweetest smile I could possibly muster up, and held out the tape measure. Roys face became a cold, white, blank. He had nothing to say, he turned and walked out the office door.
Roy changed after that Wednesday afternoon. There were no smart ass comments, no womanizing remarks pertaining to any part of my body, no cracks about my husbands crack. He continued to come into the shop at his normal time, Wednesday afternoons at 3:45. We now discussed his four wheeler, or what I had done that weekend. It took him a while, this wasn't instanteous by no means, but Roys trips in were no longer the doom of my day. If I see him at the grocery store or at the bank, I will actually stop and say hello, not try to hide behind the closest thing possible, trying to plan my escape. I think Roy just needed a challenge, or a slap in the face...but all in all I think I gave him both.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Why
I chose to research about labradors with epilepsy because I still have Lilly. She has become more than just a dog to myself and my family, she is one of us. My mom chose to put Grizz down after his third seizure. I am not sure if her reasoning was related to the medicine available at the time, or maybe the expense that came with several vet trips necessary to keep the meds regulated. Lilly still has seizures, they are certainly less frequent than in the past. When they do occur, they are much more intense and last longer. I want to make Lillys time here with me as comfortable and pain free as possible. Some of the questions I would like to find answers to are:
Are dogs born with epilepsy or does something trigger it?
Does people food bring on a seizure?
If so, what kind of people food?
Can the type of dog food make a difference?
At what age do most dogs develop epilepsy?
Is epilepsy considered a heridatory disease in dogs?
If the mother or father has it, will the puppies?
What is the best treatment for epilepsy in dogs?
Is Phenobarbitol the only medication that is given to dogs with seizures?
Does the weight or age of the dog effect the frequency and severity of a seizure?
Can I over medicate Lilly with seizure medication?
What does the medication do to prevent seizures?
Can she sense when it's going to happen?
Can an action, noise, or movement trigger a seizure to happen?
Does she want to be alone while it's happening?
Does she want to be held by me during the seizure?
How to deal with Lilly when she's having a seizure?
Should I hold her still?
If she tries to get up, should I let her?
How many different levels of seizures are there?
Do the seizures get worse as she gets older?
How long is a too long seizure?
What should I do if I think it has lasted too long?
Is it considered worse if she loses control of her bowels?
Does she remember everything or anything about the seizure?
Are dogs born with epilepsy or does something trigger it?
Does people food bring on a seizure?
If so, what kind of people food?
Can the type of dog food make a difference?
At what age do most dogs develop epilepsy?
Is epilepsy considered a heridatory disease in dogs?
If the mother or father has it, will the puppies?
What is the best treatment for epilepsy in dogs?
Is Phenobarbitol the only medication that is given to dogs with seizures?
Does the weight or age of the dog effect the frequency and severity of a seizure?
Can I over medicate Lilly with seizure medication?
What does the medication do to prevent seizures?
Can she sense when it's going to happen?
Can an action, noise, or movement trigger a seizure to happen?
Does she want to be alone while it's happening?
Does she want to be held by me during the seizure?
How to deal with Lilly when she's having a seizure?
Should I hold her still?
If she tries to get up, should I let her?
How many different levels of seizures are there?
Do the seizures get worse as she gets older?
How long is a too long seizure?
What should I do if I think it has lasted too long?
Is it considered worse if she loses control of her bowels?
Does she remember everything or anything about the seizure?
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Background
I was seven years old and my mom was standing in the front door with a chubby, wet nosed, ball of fur puppy. He was chocolate brown with a black nose and enormously floppy ears. I couldn't believe my eyes, this was my very first puppy. She gave me the normal mom speach,"Now you have to feed him and water him every day, if he needs to go out, it is your responsability. You will have to clean up his messes until he's trained and make sure that he's hooked to his house before you go to school." Anyone who has ever had a pet at a young age has heard this speech before, I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about. I never shrugged my responsibilities with "Grizz", that's what we named him, because he looked like a little bear with all that brown fur.
Grizz grew over the next year and a half. He went from a small bundle of cuddly fur to an oversized clumsy doofus. He was still my dog though, he would come with me to feed the chickens, sitting patiently outside the pen until I was finished. I no longer had to clean any messes, he had outgrown that finally. In the mornings before school, I didn't have to drag him to his house, he would trot along beside me, sniffing at whatever smell at that moment caught his attention. He was a normal, happy go lucky, goofy dog with his oversized tail, and a tongue that never stayed in his mouth very long. It usually hung out the right side with a snot like trail of drool dripping from it.
One afternoon, as I was shutting the gate to the chicken coupe, I turned and Grizz was not sitting his normal spot. I did a quick scan of the backyard, thinking that something had caught his attention, which happened on occassion. I saw under the big pine tree, laying on his belly with his back legs stretched out to the maximum length and extremely stiff
. He had pulled his front legs up to a position where he was balancing on his elbows and his feet were pounding at the ground. He was looking straight at me. His eyes were glazed over, completely brown with no white around the iris.
I walked toward him, calling his name softly. At first I thought he was scratching his belly, although I had never seen him do it quite like that before. As I got closer I could see that it wasn't the normal train of drool dripping from his tongue. It was a white frothy, almost bubbling drool, oozing out of the corner of his mouth. His feet began pounding harder and his neck went into a stretched out state, that made his head weave from side to side, all the while still looking straight at me.
I went barrelling to the house, screaming for my mother the entire way. She met me at the corner, checking for a sign of blood or other life threatening matter that could only make me scream in that fashion. I turned and pointed at Grizz. He had managed to turn his body enough so that he was still looking straight at me. My mom had never seen him, or any other dog act this way before. She told me to stand back as she crept closer to him calling his name, trying to comfort him. He focused on her from that point, watching and still pounding the ground with his front feet. I remember feeling relief that he wasn't starring at me any longer, trying to get me. Was he trying to get me, looking like a rabid dog, crazy eyed, frothing at the mouth. Or was he just trying to get to me?
I never really had another dog of my own, until one day many years later. My daughter. Devan, who was eight at the time, came home from a day out with my mother. She walked through the front door with tears streaming down her face. I knew there was something she was trying to tell us, but she couldn't quite get it out. Finally, she releases in one long sentence; "Weston has a puppy mom, it's a black lab and it's the only one left and it's there all by itself and he sold the rest of them for a lot of money but he said that we could have this one for free and if you let me get this dog I promise I will take care of it you won't have to do anything, it's free and we won't have to pay any money PLEASSSSEE!!!???" My husband and I both initially said "NO", with the explanation that she has her friends and she would lose interest. The tears continued even harder, which turned into an eight year old little girls version of a full blown fit. My mother stood there shaking her head, explaining that she had tried to tell her.
The next day, after discussions with my husband. ( I had changed my mind already, I just had to change his.) We sat Devan down at the kitchen table, remembering the Mom speach. I had decided that I was going to make her put this "Contract" in writing. She wrote a two page contract in her own words why she wanted this puppy and how she was going to care for her. After she signed and dated the new document titled My Puppy, we got in the truck to go see if he still had this dog. There she was, laying in the yard all by herself. She was about seven months old, a black lab, looked to be in perfect health. When she saw the truck pull in, she sat up, wagging her long sleek tail, just sitting there, smiling as if she knew what was about to happen.
Devan picked her name, "Lilly". She was her dog for the first few months. Me making sure that she had performed Lilly's daily needs. As time passed, I found that Lilly was spending more and more time with me, laying at my feet as we watched TV, looking to me when she needed to go outside. I didn't mind the attention, or the need to be needed. My daughter was getting older and not spending as much time at home, or needing me as much as she had in the past.
Lilly grew to be a beautiful labrador over the next year and a half. She also grew to be my dog. She would come to bed with me at night, until my husband had finished watching his shows. He would yell her name and she would happily trot down the stairs, straight to her kennel, where she was content to spend the remainder of the evening.
Life was spent in this happy little routine until Lilly reached the age of two. One evening Jason, my husband, yelled her name as usual. She jumped from the bed in her normal spring form action, and went down the stairs. Shortly after, I hear Jason, in a frantic voice, "Darcy somethings wrong with Lilly!" I had just been sound asleep with Lilly, what could be wrong? When I reached the foot of the stairs, I see my dog, laying on her side. All four feet curled up under her belly, resembling an arthritic elderly in their late stages of life. Her tail tucked between her legs and her neck stretched out straight from her spine. All of her extremities were heaving in a pattern that I couldn't understand. Her eyes were glazed over, with no white showing, and staring straight at me. I had seen this look before, Grizz, was this the same problem?
Grizz grew over the next year and a half. He went from a small bundle of cuddly fur to an oversized clumsy doofus. He was still my dog though, he would come with me to feed the chickens, sitting patiently outside the pen until I was finished. I no longer had to clean any messes, he had outgrown that finally. In the mornings before school, I didn't have to drag him to his house, he would trot along beside me, sniffing at whatever smell at that moment caught his attention. He was a normal, happy go lucky, goofy dog with his oversized tail, and a tongue that never stayed in his mouth very long. It usually hung out the right side with a snot like trail of drool dripping from it.
One afternoon, as I was shutting the gate to the chicken coupe, I turned and Grizz was not sitting his normal spot. I did a quick scan of the backyard, thinking that something had caught his attention, which happened on occassion. I saw under the big pine tree, laying on his belly with his back legs stretched out to the maximum length and extremely stiff
. He had pulled his front legs up to a position where he was balancing on his elbows and his feet were pounding at the ground. He was looking straight at me. His eyes were glazed over, completely brown with no white around the iris.
I walked toward him, calling his name softly. At first I thought he was scratching his belly, although I had never seen him do it quite like that before. As I got closer I could see that it wasn't the normal train of drool dripping from his tongue. It was a white frothy, almost bubbling drool, oozing out of the corner of his mouth. His feet began pounding harder and his neck went into a stretched out state, that made his head weave from side to side, all the while still looking straight at me.
I went barrelling to the house, screaming for my mother the entire way. She met me at the corner, checking for a sign of blood or other life threatening matter that could only make me scream in that fashion. I turned and pointed at Grizz. He had managed to turn his body enough so that he was still looking straight at me. My mom had never seen him, or any other dog act this way before. She told me to stand back as she crept closer to him calling his name, trying to comfort him. He focused on her from that point, watching and still pounding the ground with his front feet. I remember feeling relief that he wasn't starring at me any longer, trying to get me. Was he trying to get me, looking like a rabid dog, crazy eyed, frothing at the mouth. Or was he just trying to get to me?
I never really had another dog of my own, until one day many years later. My daughter. Devan, who was eight at the time, came home from a day out with my mother. She walked through the front door with tears streaming down her face. I knew there was something she was trying to tell us, but she couldn't quite get it out. Finally, she releases in one long sentence; "Weston has a puppy mom, it's a black lab and it's the only one left and it's there all by itself and he sold the rest of them for a lot of money but he said that we could have this one for free and if you let me get this dog I promise I will take care of it you won't have to do anything, it's free and we won't have to pay any money PLEASSSSEE!!!???" My husband and I both initially said "NO", with the explanation that she has her friends and she would lose interest. The tears continued even harder, which turned into an eight year old little girls version of a full blown fit. My mother stood there shaking her head, explaining that she had tried to tell her.
The next day, after discussions with my husband. ( I had changed my mind already, I just had to change his.) We sat Devan down at the kitchen table, remembering the Mom speach. I had decided that I was going to make her put this "Contract" in writing. She wrote a two page contract in her own words why she wanted this puppy and how she was going to care for her. After she signed and dated the new document titled My Puppy, we got in the truck to go see if he still had this dog. There she was, laying in the yard all by herself. She was about seven months old, a black lab, looked to be in perfect health. When she saw the truck pull in, she sat up, wagging her long sleek tail, just sitting there, smiling as if she knew what was about to happen.
Devan picked her name, "Lilly". She was her dog for the first few months. Me making sure that she had performed Lilly's daily needs. As time passed, I found that Lilly was spending more and more time with me, laying at my feet as we watched TV, looking to me when she needed to go outside. I didn't mind the attention, or the need to be needed. My daughter was getting older and not spending as much time at home, or needing me as much as she had in the past.
Lilly grew to be a beautiful labrador over the next year and a half. She also grew to be my dog. She would come to bed with me at night, until my husband had finished watching his shows. He would yell her name and she would happily trot down the stairs, straight to her kennel, where she was content to spend the remainder of the evening.
Life was spent in this happy little routine until Lilly reached the age of two. One evening Jason, my husband, yelled her name as usual. She jumped from the bed in her normal spring form action, and went down the stairs. Shortly after, I hear Jason, in a frantic voice, "Darcy somethings wrong with Lilly!" I had just been sound asleep with Lilly, what could be wrong? When I reached the foot of the stairs, I see my dog, laying on her side. All four feet curled up under her belly, resembling an arthritic elderly in their late stages of life. Her tail tucked between her legs and her neck stretched out straight from her spine. All of her extremities were heaving in a pattern that I couldn't understand. Her eyes were glazed over, with no white showing, and staring straight at me. I had seen this look before, Grizz, was this the same problem?
Object
It says in big bold, fancy script "TEXAS". I know for a fact that Nana had never been to Texas, and I surely had never been there. It has a picture of a cowboy riding a bucking horse with a barn and fence in the background. Our family likes horses, I even had a pony as a young child, but we're not huge horse lovers. It is about the size of a softball, but flat on the front and back. The edges are molded to give the appearance of wood bark, and the color is a soft chocolate brown. I have carried this piggy bank with me everytime I have moved since 1998, April of 1998 to be exact. That is the date that Nana passed away, April Fools Day, 1998. Believe me, nobody in the family was playing practical jokes that year, and I don't recall too many since then. I spent a lot of Friday nights with her, she would pick me up on her way home from work. Friday was pay day. I would get my piggy bank, and she would get her coffee cans. She would empty all of her change from her broken down purse out into a big pile on the kitchen table. We would put all the silver into a large Folgers coffee can, replace the lid tightly, then place it carefully back into her hiding spot on top of the fridge. Time to sort through the pennies, this was my favorite part. Who could find the most wheatie pennies? Her little dog, Tammy, would jump everytime I would yell "I found one!!" We would inspect it to make sure it really was a wheatie, check the year, and talk about any odd marks or colors. Only after this careful inspection would she let me drop it into my bank, "Pallunck". As the years passed, Nana and I stopped doing our special Friday night change inspections. Only because I had gotten older and friends and fun had become more important than silly wheat pennies. I still went to Nanas on the weekends, but it was Sunday afternoons to get a free home cooked meal and my laundry done. One Sunday, she reached above the microwave and pulled out my little "TEXAS" piggy bank. She wanted to show me that she had put a band-aid over the plug. On that band-aid, she had written my full name in her ever so neat penminship. Looking back, Nana knew she was sick then, and that was her way of telling me that she had loved our Friday night rituals as much as I had.
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