Nearly normal... kind of... sort of, nevermind.

Things are, as always, exactly what the title of this post implies. As near to normal as I get. I haven't been feeling well since I posted last. Yukky "woman trouble" that will put me under the knife in eight days.

I can hardly wait.

I'm not being sarcastic. I really can't wait! I guess I should clarify a bit. Having survived all these years with my cancer is a wonderful gift. The price I paid for it however, was quite high.

Only those that know me best understand the pain I live with 365 days a year. Nerve damage, debilitating pain, surgeries that removed muscle, lung tissue, ribs, parts of my diaphram... the list is endless.

It's also worse on some days over others, but the constant? Is that ever since my journey left "living my life" to "living my life with cancer" I have to sometimes dig very, very deep to find a positive... no matter how small and insignificant it may seem to others.

I am expecting this surgery to be a breeze. I'm just losing the highly annoying plumbing, they're not snagging any bones or muscles or ligaments... I'm really thinking I'll do quite fine. I asked the doc if I'd go home the same day and she laughed! (I was a little miffed...) she told me to count on two but be prepared for three.

I told friends and family I bet I only have to stay one day. A few friends have offered to pay for a shrink. One in particular is really questioning why in the world I would want to leave an environment where I'd be waited on hand and foot.

She has a point.

Of course my father was just logical about it all. He simply reminded me I'm 12 years older than the last time I had surgery. Yeah... thanks.

Time will tell. But for right now, I am focusing as much as I can to keep the nervous fear in the far reaches of my thoughts. I am reminding myself about the two things I've used as "positives" for many years (and through the more than 14 surgeries in 20+ years)...

Warm blankets in recovery. Mmmm...

For those that know me well can't help but chuckle about that. Because this is the girl that wears t-shirts & shorts pretty much year round. I have had to promise to turn my heat up over 65 degrees or a couple of my friends refuse to come to my house in the winter. Wimps.

The other positive I cling to is the one that really counts for me in my heart of hearts. It's one that most people think of as odd... they don't understand how one virtual, "nano-second" can even register, much less have some meaning.

But it is a nano-second that I dream of....

that I long for....

that I crave...

when the anesthesia begins...

and for just that single scintilla of a second before I am out cold...

the pain is gone.

...as if I were normal.

I bid the Blonde Thing good-bye.

Today is, sadly my last day with the happy dog. As I write this, she is currently making a fort with the sofa cushions. I'm not kidding. Of course she's unaware of her actions... she's just looking for her tennis ball.

I normally don't go far without some type of camera with me... I just kept forgetting to bring it. And once again, I've missed another great Kodak moment.(legally I think I'm supposed to put a trademark or copyright thingy behind that but I have no idea how to do that so... just pretend it's there.)

It is always hard for me to leave a dog. They are so loving and kind. And in her case; loving, weird, blonde, dumb and of course my favorite... great comic relief. Truth be told, she is far from dumb. She has moments of frightening intelligence.
Although, at this very moment she has left the fort building to chase her tail. Nope, she has now decided to go back to the fort building. So before she destroys the cushions I need to get the ball.

Man, it never ceases to amaze me... she had that ball jammed down there so far, I had all I could do to get it out! At least now she's happily prancing around with it in her mouth. What I love, is how she just looks like she's the 'Queen of the World' smart and beautiful.

The fact that she just turned her head too quickly to get a better grip on the ball and whacked the side of her head into the doorway makes for a great parting shot. Like I said... comic relief.

When I get home, I'm duck taping a camera to the inside of my suitcase. The look she gave the doorway was priceless.

Why I hate happy dogs.

My time with the "Blonde Thing" is drawing to a close. While I'm bumming because no matter what I write, I love to be around dogs. But I will, as always, be very happy to be back home as well.

No doubt Ludie will like this too. Maybe. Probably? Oh who am I kidding... He has been plotting my death since Tuesday. I'm sure he's honed it to perfection by now.

Oh yeah, the reason I hate happy dogs... Well, as you've probably read through many other posts I feel I've outlined most reasons quite clearly. I discovered a new one with the "Blonde Thing". I must digress a bit to give it the right tone.

Daisy's people have a very large property. The back 1/3 of it has been reclaimed as "natural" (It's becoming quite a popular thing to do... It's a great way to revive butterfly and song bird populations)

Anyway, the Blonde Thing's parents have cut "trails" through this kind of lush prairie type section. This is particularly nice because when taken on the trails, she prefers to do her thing behind the privacy and cover of the tall grass. Me? I applaud any idea that will prevent me from having to pick up dog crap.

During one of our many trips through the trails, she went off into the high grass and inadvertently flushed a rabbit. As I had hold of the leash, it took me a moment or two to get my arm back in the socket. But, finally it did pop back in. Yeah. It was fun. Yay.

So over the course of days and various 'field trips' she was anxiously jumping into the grass hoping to have more fun. Picture a kangaroo-type jump... Bounce-land, bounce-land, her legs kind of stiff. So she's doing the Kangaroo-Watusi" when I see her ears perk up and I knew it was time to dig in.

But before I could reel her in...

She dropped her head down to grab it...

Her head reared back...

She lunged again...

And flipped her head back...

Something was in her mouth...

Grass was to high to see what it was...

She dropped it...

I'm yelling and pulling with all my strength...

My mind's screaming "Oh crap! That poor baby bunny doesn't stand a chance!"

Her head goes down...

Then flips up....

It was one of those surreal moments, in which time stood still...

Then continued in slow motion...

The creature in the dog's mouth was no bunny...

But rather, the one thing in this world that can literally make me pee my pants.....

IT WAS A SNAKE!!!!!!!!!!

That was all the adrenaline rush I needed. I hauled back on that leash and Daisy was catapulted from the tall grass. Seriously... flying through the air. The snake, was thankfully flung the other way when I pulled Daisy out.

I was terrified as I realized my ears were ringing and I was getting a serious case of tunnel vision. I've only passed out once in my life, and I clearly remember ear-ringing & tunnel vision just before I went out cold.

I headed toward the house at a dead run. Daisy (a one year old Golden Retriever) could barely keep up...

As I hit the door, got myself in then got her in.... I just made it to the couch before my body gave out. I wondered "Hmm... Just what does a stroke feel like? Whoa.... Nevermind... I may have the answer in a moment..."

Everything... knees, lungs, basic brain function, (like blinking)...
Nothing was working right.

It was close to an hour later before my blood pressure got down to normal. Then I kept having those nasty 'shivers' you get like when you've seen a really creepy spider or a centipede or something. Yuk.

By now, you may realize I have a slight fear of snakes. Yeah, yeah, so it's more than slight... humor me.

It's amazing to think that after all I've survived in my life...

All I've had the courage to stand up to...

The things that I've stood up for...

...A 12 inch garter snake scares the ever-lovin' crap out of me. It's truly embarrassing let me tell you. The only reason I made it to the house in the first place was the mere fact that there was a pissed off snake in that grass and if I hit the ground out there....

I would have been on the ground

with a snake!!!!!!!!!

In an earlier post I decided I needed a drink... The night that happened? I slept with Prince Valium.

Animal Experts...

We have all seen or heard from various animal experts on one animal related subject or another at some point in our lives. Usually, one will say, "Blah blah blah & blah" and the others follow suit. Then you get those experts that say, "No! It's yadda, yadda, yadda!" You get my point.

Today I am addressing the subject of: Why dogs & cats eat grass as they aren't normally herbivores.

Over the years I have heard lots of speculation. The animal is lacking in some vitamin, or the animal isn't getting the proper nutrients because it's food isn't of proper quality...

My personal favorite has to be, "A dog will eat grass because it has a stomach ache and it wants to throw up." Ick. So, that's essentially Canine Bulimia? Hmm... who knew?

No, I would have to say that's a pretty stupid conclusion for two reasons. A) The dog doesn't always barf, and B) I'm fairly convinced no animal wants to barf anymore than we do.

So why, you might asks is this an issue? Well, I took the Happy Dog (Herein referred to as the "Blonde Thing") to the dog park. A tired dog is well behaved dog. Well, in theory anyway...

First I need to back up... I take her out this a.m. and after God only knows how many minutes I'm thinking to myself, "Self? Do you think that this mutt's time on this earth is going to be shortened considerably if she doesn't stop seeking the world's best poop spot?"

I answered, "Yes... She will die soon."

Cut me some slack... I hadn't even had coffee yet. For that matter the mere fact that I actually made it out to the back yard was in and of itself pretty monumental!

After a few more minutes of her "boogi-ling" around I discover that she's grazing! So, in the house we go. What a beast! I stumbled around muttering under my breath... Mostly wondering if any one's written a book about "101 Ways to Kill a Golden Retreiver." (Get a grip! I'm kidding!) She is, of course a happy dog! Grr...

So later in the day it's off to the dog park. Loads of dogs everywhere! Chasing one another! Jumping over one another! Running up the hills, down the hills... It was like that picture of the dog tree party in the Dr. Suess book.

What does she do? Why she runs up to almost every adult and drops at their feet so they can rub her belly. I try to get her interesting in playing with the other dogs. Not happening.

I decide to walk her up and over one of the hills because there are a pair of huskies and a pair of black labs running around on top of it like they were on fire. I try to get her interested, nope, she's got her nose to the ground & I'm thinking, "Yeah, ok... Do your thing then you'll feel more like playing." I get the little bag thing all ready.

What do I discover? SHE'S GRAZING AGAIN! AGH!!!

No matter what I do, no matter how I try to involve her with other animals the most she does is graze and run up to people for belly rubs. Cripes. After an hour I gave up on even trying to curb the grazing... I decided that the Blonde Thing is simply channeling her 'Inner Bovine" and call it quits.

As we're walking to the car, I realize that the gray velour seats in my new car would probably not look too nice with green crud barfed up on them. I consider the trunk... But then some people came by and I had to reconsider. (again... Kidding)

But the drive home was an adventure. I made sure I was in a lane whereby the slightest sound of gastric upset would be countered with an immediate pulling off the road and exiting the vehicle in under 10 seconds. Thankfully, there were no incidents.

Once home, I decided the back yard was the place to be. The cat that had been bugging me non-stop to be outside was harnessed up and left to wander the landscape, the dog was attached to my chair and I'm peacefully reading my book. Then I look up and see.... the cat grazing on every bit of grass he could reach from his tether.

Seemed like a good time to have a drink... Cheers!

The New Adventures of Dog Sitting!

Well... I did it again. I agreed to take care of "Daisy". Yes, Daisy is a "Happy Dog", she's also just over a year old, and very much a puppy. Except now she weigh about 75 pounds. That's a lot of Golden Retriever when she comes barreling at you at 90 mph!

She has already completely disarmed me, with those chocolate eyes, wet black nose and the whole, "head in the lap routine". She has also quickly become a source of great comic relief.

Like last night... In her effort to get as close as possible to me... She discovered that pushing onto someone's lap when you're (her, not me... Well... That was a long time ago... nevermind.) Anyway, she's on her back, her coat is silky, I've got a satin nightgown on and well... Daisy discovered gravity works.

Sliding off me and onto the floor upside down was pretty funny. Although I had to stop laughing and give her some lovin' when she looked at me wondering why I shoved her off the couch.

To people that say, "Animals are incapable of having expressions... they've obviously never hung around with the dogs like the ones I know.

She has already given me the "You throw like a girl." Look because, well... I throw like a girl. Then there's the, "Mom puts the food in the dish first, then fills the water bowl."

My favorite is the oldie but goodie, "Chances are my Mom didn't tell you I get a treat every hour on the hour, so I'll make you do that with my superior 'doggie powers'!" Sorry blondie... She told me! HA!

Hey... where's the aspirin? I wrenched my neck when she took me out for a drag....