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Eventually, I will write something about our past few months with Chelsie enduring a double-TPLO surgery. Some of it's been recounted on facebook, but it might help someone out to read about our not-so-textbook version of the surgery and recovery. 

perzephone: Chelsie, Catahoula Leopard Dog mix (loldog)
This morning, Rob & I went to bed. Chelsie performed her typical morning ritual of breakfast. She came back into the bedroom very quietly and didn't immediately jump on the bed. Instead, she stood next to the bed, staring a hole in Rob's head (hey, that rhymes!). Rob, suspecting something, stared back at her. He said, "she's got water running out of her mouth, wth?" Then she coughed or sneezed or something & sprayed water everywhere.

I don't know exactly what Chelsie had planned for that mouthful of water, but her hamster-like skills are quite epic. I can only imagine it involved jumping on the bed & then dropping some kind of water-bomb on me or Rob.
perzephone: Chelsie, Catahoula Leopard Dog mix (loldog)
I'm getting a portrait of Chelsie done for Rob for Yule (from the talented & awesome Moonvoice, of course). It has me thinking about her enough to realize I haven't written about her much.

Chelsie,Catahoula Leopard dog Chelsie is a Catahoula Leopard dog mix, and she's just over 2 years old. Since we adopted her from an animal shelter, we don't know her exact DOB, only that she was about 4 - 5 months old at the time. We don't know exactly what she's mixed with, either, but the shape of her head, her lines & size make me & Rob think greyhound is probably the most likely candidate. We ought to get her DNA tested, just to find out, but a part of me worries that if we find out she's part pit bull it'll make me like her less.

I've been around dogs pretty much all my life. All the dogs I've known have had character, all of them have had weird little quirks & unique personalities, but Chelsie is without a doubt the biggest character of any dog I've known. Most websites that talk about Catahoulas emphasize that they are working dogs. They've been used for hog & bear baiting, treeing 'coons (they can climb trees) & working cattle and other livestock. They're a feisty, active and intelligent breed who need lots of space and 'something to do'. Chelsie is a pampered house dog. I've worked with her on 'sit', 'lay down', 'shake' & 'high five', and she's housebroken, but that's about it. Her primary job, if any, is to keep Rob somewhat saner than if he was stuck in the house all alone all day while I'm at work. Chelsie's been excellent at that because she doesn't want to be left alone. She can't entertain herself for very long unless food is involved. She needs to be engaged, given attention and has to play with someone. She still acts like a puppy, even though she's a little over two. Most sites say that Catahoulas mature quickly & act like grown dogs before they're out of traditional puppyhood - but Chelsie is definitely not. She's still a big baby.

She needs routine in her life & doesn't do well with unexpected change. We have a dinner routine & a bedtime routine. The bedtime routine's been disrupted since I switched from days to graves, and as a result, the poor dog's been sleeping about 18 hours a day. At 'official' household bedtime, I turn off my computer & the 'ding' of Windows shutting down alerts Chelsie that it's bedtime and she goes out. Rob sets up the coffee pot for when we wake up, we both get cleaned up - brushing teeth, washing faces, going to the bathroom, shaking out bedding. When we're done, Chelsie comes in and gets to pick a rawhide chip from the baggy (it makes her deliriously happy to pick her own chewy chip). Rob lays down w/me & Chelsie starts out w/her chip on her blanket on my bedroom floor. When she's done with it, she jumps on the bed to inspect me & Rob. She jumps off & does a round of the house. She comes back, jumps on the bed for goodnight kisses & jumps back off. She goes into the kitchen to her food bowl, gets a mouthful of food, brings it back into my bedroom, spits it out onto her blanket & eats it piece by piece. She does this like, three or four times before she stays in the kitchen to finish her food. Finally she comes back in, jumps on the bed & lays down. If her second blanket isn't set up on the foot of my bed, she will pull it into place & lay on it. I tell Rob every night is a three-dog night because she gets on the bed three times, every night/morning/whatever bedtime is.

At dinnertime, I set up plates for Rob & myself, and we get the tables set up for eating. Right before I sit down, I give Chelsie a little bit of whatever we're having. If it's something like chicken, she will bring it into the living room piece by piece to eat it. It cracks me up every single time because she does it with her dogfood, too. She's like a hamster or something - stores food in her cheeks for later. If I pick up the pieces & throw them back in her bowl, she'll go get them out again & it starts all over. I'm not about to put her food dishes on the carpet, and mats don't work because she'll chew them or drag them around, so the dishes are as close to the living room as the tiled entryway allows, but she still wants to eat in the same room with me & Rob. She is very good while we're eating, but when the plates are empty & the tables get pushed back, she wants her second helping & will sit and grumble at me until I get up and give it to her. If I ignore her grumbles, she will sit on the couch next to me and put her paw on my arm softly, as if to say, "Please feed me for I am starving to death and wasting away and barely have the strength to lift a paw".

If she's acting like she wants to go out, but really doesn't, when I open the door & ask if she wants out, she runs over to the couch & hops up on her spot. If I persist, by walking towards her, she starts pinning her ears back & waving at me with one paw, like, "please, don't make me go out there!" If I reach for her collar, I get the full-on submissive belly-up roll. Sometimes, if I'm on the couch next to Rob watching Netflix or reading or whatever, she'll act like she wants to go out, and once I get up she runs over & gets into the place where I was sitting. Chelsie has also named me & Rob. Rob is 'hrumph' and I am 'hrumph-hrumph'. If she wants to get my attention, she sits behind me & starts making her 'hrumph-hrumph' noise. It's also how she wakes me up if she needs to go out - standing by my bed with her nose in my face saying, "hrumph-hrumph!" For Rob, since we have separate bedrooms and he keeps a gate in front of his room because he doesn't want to be startled by Chelsie in the middle of the day/night, she will stand at his gate & call to him, soft at first & then louder if he doesn't wake up.

She is a paw-y dog. I can see her working heritage in that. When we play she will hook an ankle with her paw to bring her prey down, and both Rob & I have suffered because of that. She also opens doors & drawers, grabs arms and hands & uses her fifth toe to grasp things as thumb-like as dogly possible. She holds things in her paws to chew on them or inspect them. If Rob & I are holding hands, she will use her nose and paws to pull our hands apart, like we're hiding something from her. If I lay on the floor, belly down, and hide my face in my arms or hands, she will use her paws to move my hands and try to roll me over. If she can't get me to move successfully with her paws, she'll grab my hand in her mouth & try to roll me over that way. I don't know if she thinks I'm in distress or if I'm hiding things in my arms. She just doesn't appreciate me laying face down on the floor & will stop at nothing to get me to move. She treats Rob the same way, which is why he won't lay down on the floor anymore. When she plays, she does this thing where she'll act like she's about to lay down or roll over, with her head on the floor & her butt in the air, and she'll push herself after your feet or toes. I've tried to get photos of her doing it, but she sees the camera come out & runs.

With Rob, she's usually just attached to his hip. Her latest game is to sit on the couch next to him & stare at him until he gives her a dog biscuit. They also play 'lazy man's fetch', where he tosses a ball into the air over her head, she catches it & hands it back to him. It takes place in an area about 2'sq, right in front of Rob's spot on the couch. That's why it's 'lazy man's fetch' - no one has to move, unless Rob mis-throws the ball & it ends up in No Dog's Land, which is anywhere near cables or the bookshelf. She's pretty athletic, though - she'll jump her own bodylength into the air to catch the ball. Rob wears these fitted bandana caps (I always called 'em 'Do-Rags' but whatever) & Chelsie will go to great effort to try and snatch them off Rob's head. She's not a big fan of his long hair, either - if he has a ponytail in, she'll try to snatch that off his head, and she pulls his bangs out of it a few strands at a time.

It's not so much the things she does as it is her overall personality. She's a complete clown & we're completely puppy-whipped.
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I've had snakes on and off my entire life. Mostly on. I always feed my snakes live prey, and I've never had any problems because of it. Ed and Nessie are both well cared for, incredibly healthy and companionable pythons. I do not expect my snakes to behave as anything besides what they are - predators. Specifically, ball pythons are 'lie-in-wait predators'.

Sometimes, though, I do feel bad. I have to feed the cute mice to the snakes first, otherwise I end up with pet mice and rats. I give them to Jody, Jamie or Miranda because they are rodent people. I like mice and rats & other rodents enough to find them cute, and they are physically clean animals, with soft fur; they do have personalities; they are trainable - but to me, they smell atrocious. It doesn't matter how many times a day I clean out their habitat, they just stink. Back in the day, people used to call external tumors 'mice' because of the odor that emanates from that type of tumor or cancerous sore. My mother's breath had that mousey odor after she got lung cancer, and no matter how many cigarettes she smoked or how many times she brushed her teeth would that odor subside.

Tonight I had to give Nessie the world's absolute cutest mouse. It was salt & pepper - gray, black & white. with brown eyes... and a black patch around one eye. Usually it's the fawn-colored mice & rats that give me the biggest heartaches, but this mouse was a freakin' pi-rat. In my world, it is possible to be too cute to live.
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I don't know exactly how it started, but over the past year or so, snapping a towel at Chelsie's head has become a game. I think it may have started as me playing bull-fighter with her, waving the towel as she charged. But it degraded into me fending her off with said towel. Of course, this has consequences, one of which is that anytime you have a towel in your hand, she thinks it's an excuse to maul you.

I just learned of an even greater consequence. A few minutes ago, I was making a cup of tea & half-assedly flapping the towel at her, and I hung the towel on the fridge handle. So, out of the corner of my eye I see her slinking behind me to grab the towel off the door handle. I turned around & 'No!'ed her, & she stood there, in half-slink pose, looking at me like, "I wasn't doing nuffin..."

If she grabs the towel on the fridge door handle in just the right way - she'll open the fridge door. If that dog learns how to open the fridge door, next thing we know, she'll be sitting on the couch surfing internet beastie porn & drinking Rob's beer in the middle of the night.

We should have gotten a nice, dumb yellow lab.
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There is no dog greater of heart or spirit than any other dog. Dogs are truly noble and have been with us since the dawn of our species. I love Aussie Heeler/Shepherd mixes - they are the best dogs on the planet. I am awed by sighthounds of all types, especially the antique breeds like Pharoah hounds, Ibizan hounds, Basenjis who can cry but cannot bark, Sloughis, Salukis... Salukis are the only dogs the Bedouins view as being 'clean'. Honestly, I like most smooth & silky-haired hounds. Weimeraners, Viszla, pot-bellied blue-tick 'coon hounds who bay with that great ringing song, harlequin Great Danes, clicky-toe-nailed Beagles, floppy Labs. I like dog dogs, dogs you can thump in the ribs and push around with your shoulder, dogs who lay their big heavy heads on your chest and look up at you with wide expectant eyes, cunning dogs who bring their leashes to you, stupid dogs who eat linoleum and tennis shoes, cowardly dogs who hide under the couch when it thunders but who bring you some guy's pants because he cut across the wrong yard, moondogs & lunatics who chase cops out of their own cars. All the dogs I've known I love & I love all the dogs I've known. They've tied their lives to ours since the beginning, skulking around the midden piles and birthing huts, braving the fear of fire to bask in its warmth, helping us hunt, guiding us through the snow, helping us protect our homes and livestock and families... what is there not to love about any dog?

Of course, my vote for the Champion of Dogs would be the one laying warm against my hip a few minutes ago, Chelsie chasing her dreams with twitching paws...


Oct. 30th, 2008 10:13 pm
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I'm starting to think Chelsie had a rough beginning to her life. I'm getting the strong impression she may have been thrown from a moving car. She just does not like being around cars, more so running cars. She also strongly prefers the back seat & just kind of lays back there. If you try to pull her into the front seat she freaks out, especially if the window is open.

She has nightmares, too. Just a few minutes ago she was sleeping on the couch & jumped up suddenly & ran barking at the front door. It wasn't like she woke up, looked around or cocked her ears before leaping off the couch - she looked like she was still asleep when she started barking. There's no one out there, no car drove by, no neighbors moving around, no wind... and nothing moving around to make my hair stand on end. Granted, dogs are far more sensitive, but she seemed freaked out & was more than willing to climb shaking into my lap.

It pisses me off sometimes what people do to dogs & cats out here. They just dump them in the desert, basically leaving them to the elements and the coyotes. I don't know what goes through people's heads... "Oh, we'll toss her out of the car on the highway, another car'll hit her, it's guaranteed to be a quick death" or maybe, "yeah, we'll just drive him out to the desert, he'll do fine or someone will come along & pick him up", even if it's an old dog that's never had to scrounge a bite of food in his entire life, or a pampered declawed house cat.

Gah. Need to stop before I start freakin' crying.
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One of the benefits of dog ownership is supposedly exercise.

However, I think I'm too out of shape to entertain this puppy. I'm going to have to pay my overdue gym bill so I can work out enough to be able to keep up with her.

It's also really hard to break a puppy of the biting thing when they look so darned funny while they're chewing you up. I was sitting cross-legged on the floor wrestling (gently, mind you) with her & since I was protecting my soft, sensitive underarms and boobs, she started biting my exposed big toe.
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Chelsea Chelsea again
I has a pillow!
Chelsea again
Just a head shot
I has a bone!

Housebreaking this dog is going to be a trial - she has no clear signals. We're working on the whole playing thing, though.
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:( Oh well, it's Rob's dog.

Honestly, though, she does look more like a Chelsea than a Voodoo - I think the next black dog we get will end up being Voodoo.

Rob's actually been talking about wanting a little black kitten, even though he's so allergic to cats it isn't funny. He had a dream that we had one named Jinx. He used to put up w/Lisa's cat, Monster because Monster was just that cool.

She's Home!

Oct. 7th, 2008 06:52 pm
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New Dawg 01 New Dawg 01
She's looking at Ed
Snug as a Bug Snug as a Bug
Aint she purty?
I Don't Feel So Good I Don't Feel So Good
Please ignore all the crap in our den

Y'all are going to get so sick & tired of this dawg. I luffs her. Her one-ear-up-one-ear-down kills me. She's not feeling so hot today, and after she had a tour of the house she puked on the floor. Twice. She also peed on her brand-new bed. It's forgivable today. She seems gentle and timid right now, but she walked out of the clinic on her own paws (she's got webbed feet & does not protest at all when her paws are handled!) but she was absolutely, positively terrified of the cars in the parking lot. The animal shelter said she had been picked up as a stray, so she's got a good reason to be dodgy of vehicles. I had to gingerly pick her up & hold onto her to get into the car. I kept expecting her to get carsick, but she just stayed in my lap, & I finally put her on the floorboard so she could lay down. She kept looking up at me w/that one huge bat-like pointy ear & putting her nose on my knee - I was like, "You got some coyote in you somewhere?". Now she is just laying on her bed & snoring. She looks quite contented over there.

Rob tried a half a Lexapro today - when he came to pick me up he was uber-wired. He said he could see individual veins on tree leaves a mile away. I don't know if he'll keep trying the Lexapro or if he's just going to stick w/the Xanax.
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3 hours til puppy pick-up! I's excited! It's a pretty good sign that she survived her surgery this morning since the animal shelter didn't call us w/bad news.

Rob's having a bad day today... I truly hope having a dog around will help him. He just sits at home & thinks about his health & his fears. The Catahoulas are supposedly not a 'beginners' dog - they are highly intelligent (people complain about them opening doors), active and hard-headed, very pack-like and will fight for dominance with their humans, so Rob's going to have to be on his toes around her as she gets older. I could use the exercise, so I'm up for the twice-daily walks, even in Summer - she'll just have to wait a little later for her second walk :P

The Pagan Forum I frequent has been shut down for the past couple of days... I'm all annoyed about that, it seemed like an interesting community to be involved in. One of the moderator/owners had a mild heart attack last week & survived, so I hope nothing more serious happened.
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Voodoo or Chelsea? Voodoo or Chelsea?
Taken at the Lied Animal Shelter, Las Vegas, NV 10/06/2008

This is the ass-end of our new puppy. She's a Catahoula Leopard Hound, about 3 - 4 mos old. She'll come home tomorrow night because tomorrow morning she's getting spayed. She's got one lop ear, which is completely freaking cute. When we first went to see her she was sticking her paws out from under the gate of her cell & trying to pull our hands inside. She was a little anxious while we were there, but she'll probably calm down a bit once we get her home tomorrow. I was so happy the Catahoula was still there when we got there, & she was still there when we went back w/the money for the adoption fee. She's got wolfy amber eyes & all in all, she's kind of weird looking with the reddish tan & the blue & black brindle saddle.

We went puppy shopping tonight - got puppy training pads, a bed, no-spill dishes (Ed's got a nicer one, lol), doggy bones, a collar (which I think is too big, but we'll deal) & leash, some doggy biscuits & toys. :D Came home & put away all my shoes. I should probably iron all my shirts so there's nothing dangling off my ironing board. Rob's got to puppy-prep the house & yard tomorrow. Right now he's shaking himself to pieces on the couch - the doc gave him some Lexapro today. I had called in sick today just so I could be nearby if he freaked out & we ended up spending most of the day on the road.
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Rob's been having anxiety attacks all weekend, which was what prompted his mother to allow us to get a dog. She thinks Rob's spending too much time alone, all pent up in his head & needs someone to talk to while I'm at work all day. Finally Rob's neuroses come in handy for something. It got set off because he wasn't feeling so hot Friday night & his blood pressure & blood sugar spiked really bad. So of course, he started panicking about it, which doesn't help the spike in b.p. & blood sugar, which hypes him up more, so he panics more... it's a nice vicious cycle. So anyway, Rob would really like it if we could get a puppy, a dog to grow up with us & grow old with us.

We got out of the house today, went to the NV ASPCA adoption clinic at the PetSmart up by us. The only puppies they had were pit bulls & chihuahuas - neither Rob or I want either of those. I think of chihuahuas as a potential food source, not as a pet... and I fucking hate pit bulls & the whole pit bull trend. Everyone always says pit bulls are great dogs & they're only aggressive because people make them aggressive, which is true, the same as it is for Rottweilers & Dobermanns, but as far as being a 'great dog' - every pit bull I've ever met has been stubborn, thick-headed and generally stupid.

We had a rough time the last time we got a grown dog from the animal shelter. Ripley, a lab mix (probably mixed w/pit bull but she was very petite & didn't have the dome-like head) was a bad case of SEP (Somebody Else's Problem). She had separation anxiety & would spite-shit all over the house. She ate a brand new pair of tennis shoes, the linoleum in my bathroom, part of my bedroom carpet and the bathroom door. Rob & I were both working so we just didn't have the kind of time to dedicate to her & ended up giving her away to a family w/kids & a yard. A few months after we gave her away, we got another notice from the animal shelter that she'd been picked up running loose & her collar still had our ID tags on it.

We then went to the pet stores in the Meadows & Boulevard malls. I was honestly hoping that Rob would not find a puppy he liked there because, well, mall pet shops are puppy mills. They've cleaned the one up in the Meadows a lot - I was honestly surprised because that place used to look more like a forgotten storage area than a pet shop. It always stank, the puppies were always coughing, the bird cages were usually filthy & the birds always looked more than a little harassed... Now it looks like a brand-new store. Of course, all the puppies were sleeping. Most of them were chihuahuas (again with the freaking chihuahuas, gah!) and a bunch of other yappy little ankle-biters. The Boulevard mall had a few big dogs, like huskies & Malamutes, but I do not support having huskies, Malamutes or wolf hybrids in the fucking desert. We picked up a Nifty Nickel & found someone selling Aussie shepherd puppies... which would have been perfect - except he had docked their tails. WTF?! Why?! If I'm going to buy a puppy, I want the whole puppy! I don't like the tail-docking bullshit, or the ear-docking, either. I've had floppy-eared Dobies in the past, and they hear just fine, thanks.

At any rate, today was a bust. I ended up e-mailing sick to work tomorrow because Rob wants to go to the dr. to talk to her about anti-anxiety meds. Finally! I can also probably get the results of my echocardiogram while I'm at it. I looked around online at the animal shelters here in town... Dewey had no puppies, other than a 6-mo old pit bull. I'm kind of hoping... Lied had a notice of a 3-mo old Catahoula Leopard Hound puppy, a little girl. The last update was on the 1st, so she might be gone already. In fact, she probably is gone already because she's a puppy & puppies usually don't stay in the shelters too long.

I gotta say, I'm just not big on monkey-faced lap dogs or terriers of any size. I don't like wire-haired dogs or sheep dogs. I like dog-dogs. The only small dog I truly like is the Dachshund, because Dachshunds aren't like little dogs, they're more like someone took a big dog & stuffed them into a sausage. But, considering he's going to be spending the most time with it, whatever we get will be Rob's dog, & Rob would honestly prefer a black lab or lab mix. They've got some year-old dogs at Lied's, so we'll check it out tomorrow & see.


Oct. 4th, 2008 06:24 pm
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The mother-in-law told us we can get a doggy!



Feb. 2nd, 2006 02:46 am
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Met Jody's latest cat addition tonight. Her name's Autumn, and she's a black & orange brindle. She's neutered & declawed, and some motherfucker dumped her out in the desert near Bonnie Springs to fend for herself.

Now, I normally don't care one way or the other about cats. I like to pet animals, and most people I know (myself, Jody, Lisa) all have the knack of attracting cats-that-aren't-cats, or cats with personalities. Autumn is no exception. For one, she is utterly friendly. The day Jody found her, she walked up to Jody looking for attention. At one point tonight she was laying on the couch between me & Jody, one front paw on Jody's hip, her back paw on my thigh. She kept patting Jody, purring & letting me rub her belly. No cat really likes to be rolled onto its back & have its belly scruffled, but Autumn is all up for it. Whenever I'd stop petting her, she'd kick me w/her back leg & look up at me like, "Why'd you stop?" She will let you hold her on her back, cradled in your arm like an infant, all four paws up in the air. She lets you touch her back paws. She lets you touch all her paws - she's a touchy, feely, pawwy cat anyway. She'll grab your hand & rub your fingers on her head.

In other words, she's got personality. She's weird, but she's such a loving animal. I cannot believe someone would just throw her away.

Autumn does have one small problem. If you get tired of her endless, abundant love & affection & push her off onto the floor or away from you, she runs over to her food bowl, gobbles food down & then pukes. She's got some serious rejection issues. This behavior has given her that kind of bloated look that cats with tummy problems get. I suggested maybe some kind of anti-anxiety medication, something along the lines of low-dose valium. Another suggestion was to only put food down during a regular feeding time, which isn't exactly fair to Andy (the dog) or Taz (the other cat) because they're used to having dry stuff available all the time & if her food bowl isn't accessible when she freaks out, she will raid their dishes & do the same thing.

I had cat in my lap for like 4 hours tonight. Every time I'd start thinking about how sweet she was, I'd get so pissed at her former owner. When Miranda gets settled in to her new apartment & has a regular schedule, she's taking Autumn home for Malachi, because it's a love/love relationship there - Autumn loves Malachi & Malachi, in his baby way, loves Autumn. At least Autumn didn't die of thirst or starvation or get eaten by a coyote - she found people who will take care of her for years & years, and that's a good thing.

Andy - is - huge. He's 16 months old, stands a good 3 1/2' at the shoulder, is 6'1" from nose to tail-tip, and about 150lbs. Everyone always says, "look, it's a wolf!" when they see him, and he is a hybrid, but I think his pure whiteness prevents me from seeing wolf in him at all - I see big fucking white German Shepherd. His winter fat & fur make him look like he's got no neck.

On another note, I tried the Salvia again last night. I was in the bathtub reading Clive Barker's 'Abarat: Days of Magic, Nights of War'. I think I either got a dud batch or it just doesn't work for me. The only thing I noticed was some spatial distortion - my feet seemed way far away in the tub, and the images in my head of what I was reading were clearer than normal.
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Looks like Lisa's probably on her way to the delivery room. Hope everything comes out o.k.

We let Andy in for bits & pieces of time... I've taught him how to play tug-of-war w/an old dish towel or pillowcase. Of course, w/the way Jody keeps house, he's going to have plenty to do - dirty laundry, socks, blankets, pillows, you name it. He snatched the towels out of my hand & treated them like dead rodents, shaking his head back & forth & then standing on one end w/his huge paws & riiiiipppppping up w/his head. And Gods forbid you try & take the rags away - he tried to bite my hand off a couple of times. I just don't want him shitting string.

I was sitting here, reading some of the posts on PsychCentral, trying to get a feel for a therapy session, and Andy came over to me & started whining & biting my arm, trying to get me to play w/him. He didn't do much damage - I'm pretty bruised up on both arms & he clobbered me w/a 150lb paw & then bit my thigh when we were playing tug-of-war.

Alea got employee-of-the-month. No one on graveyard has gotten e.o.t.m. for about 2 1/2 years, so we're pretty happy for her. She's getting presented w/her e.o.t.m. badge on Monday.


Aug. 15th, 2004 08:04 am
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Sitting here at the night job, thinking about destiny & Karma. The forces that bind us to whatever we’re doing at the moment. Some Universal record-keeper has determined that, for whatever clockwork reason, I should be sitting here at the Excalibur Hotel in Las Vegas, NV at 4:12am PDT, typing & watching for room & tax to post.
I started working here 3 years & 8 months ago, with the full intent of becoming Head Night Auditor. And I am, so in a way I’ve at least achieved a goal. But why? Why would the Universe be this kind to me? Well, maybe 3 years & 8 months ago, the clock started ticking for changes to occur in Nora’s life. Maybe I needed to be here because if it wasn’t for me being a competent & willing person, Nora would have felt honor-bound to keep her job and continue working here even though she’s going through an emotional breakdown. And if it wasn’t me, then another competent & willing person would have been arranged to fill the role. 2 years from Front Desk Clerk to Relief Auditor, another year to Head Night Auditor. I think I was cast in the role purposefully, though, because it feels like this is what I’m supposed to be doing at this moment. But even if I didn’t feel like it was what I was supposed to be doing, it would still be what I was supposed to be doing, mainly because here I am, doing it.
One of my co-workers, Kelly, always has to pay attention to what other people are doing (or not doing). She’s one of the first to resent people who are standing around not doing anything, especially when there’s a line & a certain clutch of young girls are standing around, usually with their backs to the line, talking. For some reason, Kelly’s got a very strong sense of “if I’m working, everyone else should be working, too”. Not because it’s universally fair or right, but because she feels like they are robbing her of something. Kelly hasn’t gotten it through her head that she could stand around & talk, too. She doesn’t have to work the line like an automaton while others slack. She also doesn’t understand something that only recently occurred to me. They are there to talk to one another, Kelly is there to work the line. They’re all doing what they’re supposed to be doing at that moment.
It’s a perfected system, one the Universe has been working with since the dawn of time. I don’t really believe in coincidence – nothing is coincidental, it’s all meant to happen when it happens. I was writing an inmate awhile back, and he eventually got on my nerves & we quit writing one another. He had asked me to replace a watch battery for him at one point, and I lost the original. It was a tiny watch battery – miniscule, really. The other day, Rob was cleaning & the battery turned up from whatever house lare had done away with it in the first place. Even though I have stopped writing him, I went ahead & replaced the battery & sent it to him, not out of any sense of obligation but because it was what I was supposed to do at that time.
I think it was Thunder’s death that got me thinking. Jody’s beau is in jail up in Oregon. There’s a chance that he’s going to have to serve 3 years probation. It used to be that people could serve probation out of state, but the laws have changed, so even though Brad has Jody, a home & a job here in Las Vegas, the courts of Oregon may still force him to serve his term up there. Jody was hesitant to move because Thunder’s hips had gotten so bad. He finally got to the point where every step was torture – and in a way, I think his soul let go so Jody would be free of the responsibility of taking care of him. Now, even though there’s a good chance she’ll be getting another puppy in the next couple of weeks, an extended car ride w/a healthy puppy is a lot easier than one with a dog w/ailing hips.
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My sister had to have her dog, Thunder, put to sleep yesterday. He was 10 years old & a very good dog. His hips didn't hold up to his lifestyle, tho. We'll all miss him greatly, especially Jody. We're going to pick up his ashes today for her, & then she's going to turn him loose in the desert so he can chase jackrabbits to his heart's content.


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Rainbow Serpent Woman

August 2014

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