tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-251491752024-03-05T13:02:39.748-06:00The Happy Pit Bull BlogIt's not always about dogs, but it usually is.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger225125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-58297417046127873382014-08-02T13:49:00.000-05:002014-08-02T14:01:52.681-05:00Dozer, BelovedWith heavy hearts, we did the necessary on Monday, July 28, 2014. Our precious Dozer has gone to the Rainbow Bridge.<br />
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He stopped eating over the weekend, was struggling to breathe and walk, and no longer had that big "Dozer smile," so we had no doubts by Sunday that it was time.<br />
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In his last 24 hours, Dozer got cooked chicken thighs--the only thing we could get him to eat--and we spent lots of time sitting with him, cuddling, kissing him, and telling him what a good boy he was.<br />
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An ultrasound on Monday morning confirmed that Dozer's heart was enlarged and failing, and we made the decision to help him go peacefully.<br />
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Dozer was a member of our family and a big part of our lives for over 13 years. He saw me off to work or school every day, through all of my degrees and careers.<br />
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He always had a big goofy smile on his face.<br />
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He was a friend to (or, in his senior years, he tolerated) countless foster animals and new pets.<br />
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Until he lost his hearing (from old age), he knew the name of each of his toys and would bring you any toy you requested. He could also put his toys away in his toy box, and open and close doors and drawers.<br />
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When spoken to, he cocked his head and listened carefully, made eye contact, and gave very appropriate reactions based on our tone of voice. I always felt like I was having a conversation with another human.<br />
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Dozer knew how to get hugs by being irresistibly adorable. He loved to ham for the camera.<br />
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Dozer was our beloved, and our hearts ache from his loss. We miss him more than words can convey.<br />
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Good boy, Dozer. Good bye.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOADYVYavQv0w2jlJtjq0javZ0JGTsbf8spin_NzHyT5c0oHkrpmebPpvqWz6eLLHrczetQVO4mIIdSQXbkTJLEIChNtafrA2_EoTH9FtUKh39haZeIlEIMmWSNU9QVcsfHxnyCw/s1600/Dozer+Oct+2003+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOADYVYavQv0w2jlJtjq0javZ0JGTsbf8spin_NzHyT5c0oHkrpmebPpvqWz6eLLHrczetQVO4mIIdSQXbkTJLEIChNtafrA2_EoTH9FtUKh39haZeIlEIMmWSNU9QVcsfHxnyCw/s1600/Dozer+Oct+2003+004.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dozer<br />
2000 - 2014<br />
"To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die."</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-82438443139650012412014-07-26T23:45:00.001-05:002014-07-26T23:45:34.287-05:00Dozer's PostSeems I post about once per year nowadays. My job contributes to that, but I've also kept busy during my time off. I notice that many of my old blogging friends have slowed down somewhat, too, so I don't feel too bad about neglecting the blog. Life is busy and exciting, and I try to step away from the computer whenever I can.<br />
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Today I share news about Dozer. After almost 14 years, his finish line is in sight.<br />
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You can rather see the problem in the photo. He's skin and bones, but has a potbelly. He's not eating much, and not walking around much. Everything he does exhausts him. Even standing.<br />
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This was a rapid decline, starting about three months ago, an obvious problem in the last three weeks. He's been to the vet several times since, but kept getting diagnosed as "just an old guy." Today I scheduled him with our long-time vet, who has known Dozer since a puppy, and he quickly agreed: something is amiss.<br />
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Dozer has always been a hyperactive patient. He gets really anxious being away from home, even though he likes the people at the vet's office. I often have to force him to sit down so he doesn't squirm around while being examined. But today, when Dozer crawled into the exam room and laid himself out flat on the floor, and didn't get up for the rest of the exam, the vet knew right away that this was not normal. Halfway through the visit, Dozer closed his eyes and appeared to fall asleep. It was one of those moments that kicks you hard in the gut, without warning, because it feels so horribly... wrong. The vet made a strange face. I started to cry.<br />
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We suspect his heart. We'll know more in a few days, after a sonogram and an x-ray. I don't think there's much we can do for him, though, except to help him be comfortable and content until he's ready to leave us.<br />
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Love you, buddy.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-7987551082591768252013-06-01T18:39:00.000-05:002013-06-01T18:40:09.250-05:00Back in the saddleYou might have noticed that I took a pretty long hiatus from blogging.<br />
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After graduating last summer, I started a new career. As a public auditor. At a Big Four accounting firm.<br />
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It's a great career overall, but it's the type of work that can require some very extreme hours. During the worst stretch of busy season, I was putting in over 80 hours a week (and weekends) for six weeks in a row. I worked over 100 hours near the end of one job.<br />
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At any rate, when I finally close my work laptop at the end of a 12-hour day, the last thing I want to do is go home and get on the computer again. And to add to reasons not to blog, my company--like many companies, but particularly because of the type of work we do--would prefer that their employees maintain a fairly low profile (or no profile) in social media arenas.<br />
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So blogging has been at the very bottom of my priority list. And I probably won't post very often, as long as I'm working at Big Four.<br />
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Mind you, I knew what I was getting into, going into this career. This is why I stepped down from stopbsl.com and pulled out of all of my volunteer activities last fall. I would like to say that I miss those activities, but thus far I've been so busy, I barely have time to do laundry, much less lament the death of my social life.<br />
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Moving on to more positive things!<br />
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At long last, Dozer's terrible allergies are almost entirely under control. He hasn't been to the vet for over a year (aside from his annual checkup) and he did not need a cortisone shot this spring. Miraculous!!<br />
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The key has been to limit him to Instinct rabbit flavor dog food (and NOTHING else); to bathe him WEEKLY without fail with a vet-prescribed chlorhexidine (antiseptic) shampoo; and to give him one cetirizine hydrochloride (Zyrtec) pill EVERY evening. Additionally, we keep his living areas as clean as possible, by washing his beds and vacuuming the floors once a week; and we call pest control to treat the yard at the first sign of fleas.<br />
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Dozer is turning 13 this year. He has lost most of his hearing. It's been more of an adjustment for us than for him, because he knows signed commands just fine--it's just that <i>we </i>have to remember to use them! He's quite good at reading body language and facial expressions, though, so the only real trouble has been when he's not looking at us or he's not in the room. We have to remember to go find him and tap him on the head to get his attention.<br />
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He had to wear this inflatable "tire" for a while because he wouldn't stop licking a bump between his toes. At first he didn't like it much, but soon he discovered that it made a great pillow no matter where he was. No complaints after that.<br />
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Star is doing great. She LOVES Dozer. Even though he's a grumpy old fart.<br />
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Star knows how to cover herself up with a blanket. She actually can disappear entirely under a blanket, which has led to more than one instance in which Byrd and I couldn't find her anywhere, and we both started to panic.</div>
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As you can see in the photos, she also likes to sleep with Dozer's head in her stomach, and her head hanging off the edge of the dog bed. I have a lot of photos like this. These two photos were taken several weeks apart.</div>
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Since Byrd and I are working so much, we hired a pet sitter to come by during the day to play with them and walk them.<br />
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And, though I don't have time to foster dogs right now, we are "fostering" butterflies again this summer.<br />
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Both the Eastern Black Swallowtail and the Pipevine Swallowtail are our guests this year. So far, we've "grown" about two dozen butterflies. The caterpillar castle has been pretty busy.<br />
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Well, until next time-- I hope all of you are doing well!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-68427219087995284272012-06-24T16:23:00.002-05:002012-06-24T16:23:24.256-05:00Swallowtail CaterpillarsBelieve it or not, in a mere 1.5 months, I will graduate with a master's degree in professional accounting. Then I start work as an auditor with a Big Four accounting firm at the end of August. And probably (reluctantly) start studying for the CPA exam.<br />
Meanwhile, a fun new "project" has come along lately that I thought you might enjoy: eastern black swallowtail caterpillars!<br />
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<br />
We started noticing the caterpillars on our lone dill plant in early June. LOTS of them.<br />
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Everything was cool until they started turning black and dying, one by one. Finally, I saw a spined soldier bug (stink bug) killing one. And then another. And then several more.<br />
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Predatory stink bugs can be helpful because they eat pest caterpillars and many other undesirable insects. But they don't care that we think swallowtail butterflies are pretty. So Byrd and I decided to remove the caterpillars to a safe place, and let the stink bugs find something else to eat.<br />
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We ended up with 34 caterpillars in various stages of growth. But where were we going to keep all of these caterpillars?<br />
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So Byrd, in true Byrd fashion, went way overboard and built them a fancy caterpillar castle.<br />
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First was the base. It is plywood and wood trim that rests on a big square plastic pot. In the four corners, he made four little vases out of PVC. In the middle is a big hole.<br />
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Dozer didn't understand what we were up to, but he enjoyed laying on the garage floor and getting the occasional hug and baby talk.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk_fvXEY5f-Afjv53KqTqoOQrgxjLr6VA2GEWHoz0xDsltT5pj2W52Hr8zvq5XPMakU_IA7byNvkoF7c4DY3nWddxOfPBMHtppfmpjyPtRvRVHRZmZbBcIH99JyKFRN7oqeeHndQ/s1600/IMAG0060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk_fvXEY5f-Afjv53KqTqoOQrgxjLr6VA2GEWHoz0xDsltT5pj2W52Hr8zvq5XPMakU_IA7byNvkoF7c4DY3nWddxOfPBMHtppfmpjyPtRvRVHRZmZbBcIH99JyKFRN7oqeeHndQ/s320/IMAG0060.jpg" width="207" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What d'ya mean, 'who's your sweet bubby boy'? Is that a rhetorical question?"</td></tr>
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Though the garage is still kind of new for all of us, Dozer makes a really great "garage-buddy" dog. He finds a comfy spot on the floor and just hangs out there. Even if the garage door is wide open and someone's walking past the house (with their dog, even), he doesn't care at all. Just sits there.</div>
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Next, Byrd made the top part, and wrapped it with window screen wire. You can see the underside of the plywood, where the PVC vases are screwed in.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioR2HAqRSiQ-PW8wjHjPa9M-3uYJg2UNNpFIJLwwTZR4Ld24Tfol4jVvXnKkCQbFhwAlhegbOvAnWM0-qTh07uiAh9wUsgx7XzDOw6qpVhKt9oxvX2KROhJQ02hShpyEfXmH17Fw/s1600/IMAG0062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioR2HAqRSiQ-PW8wjHjPa9M-3uYJg2UNNpFIJLwwTZR4Ld24Tfol4jVvXnKkCQbFhwAlhegbOvAnWM0-qTh07uiAh9wUsgx7XzDOw6qpVhKt9oxvX2KROhJQ02hShpyEfXmH17Fw/s320/IMAG0062.jpg" width="251" /></a></div>
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So what's that big hole for? It's for a potted plant that the caterpillars can eat. I wanted to be able to swap out the plant that goes in the middle, depending on what was available. </div>
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Swallowtail caterpillars eat plants in the wild carrot family: dill, fennel, parsley, and Queen Anne's lace.</div>
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We only have the one dill plant, and because it's later in the summer now, dill isn't available at the nurseries. Parsley is in season, however. So we bought a whole bunch of parsley and put them into pots that would sit in the center hole.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQMTuamd4hK8wKa0T71b_b-50bsv-NT_HljQSw5x2c32GAfMpsAmIa57Z_gf0X2-I2XVaSxlLfXZZl8sJoJDO_B2cd9tAYqfl9w5md4z9lQuj14kOivJAu-KmAtpy5NPhmXUj0dg/s1600/IMAG0056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQMTuamd4hK8wKa0T71b_b-50bsv-NT_HljQSw5x2c32GAfMpsAmIa57Z_gf0X2-I2XVaSxlLfXZZl8sJoJDO_B2cd9tAYqfl9w5md4z9lQuj14kOivJAu-KmAtpy5NPhmXUj0dg/s320/IMAG0056.jpg" width="170" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDr8WSVxjLJ5NOjX1zAfTlViAvmRrAUTo4Vm-iSdm5oYsAfJfUOSCOGovjpr6uai-e-w1k4Ggi0zaZfGVvQ5DFm0srgIC9JPfJoSi_vPRXfxzBQurlXmX5ok9eEdmM6Ic8bswHsw/s1600/IMAG0066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDr8WSVxjLJ5NOjX1zAfTlViAvmRrAUTo4Vm-iSdm5oYsAfJfUOSCOGovjpr6uai-e-w1k4Ggi0zaZfGVvQ5DFm0srgIC9JPfJoSi_vPRXfxzBQurlXmX5ok9eEdmM6Ic8bswHsw/s320/IMAG0066.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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You're thinking, hey, that's a neat idea! Well, it turned out to be kind of a dumb idea, because I soon learned that 34 caterpillars can eat one of these pots of parsley to the ground every <em>day! </em><br />
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Here's what the caterpillar castle looked like right after we put all our caterpillars in.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zfqFQYAG6khL2b-FZyj2Zh5-tUULOT28cE_AYngtIVxumhGn00mu5lrQS002VRpQjSVMseblnyrA8nhUISJRK-GfNbAGk7ur0-aXPYibeuvQ7OJ4_101xUdJm2FWAKpr7dJUXw/s1600/IMAG0076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zfqFQYAG6khL2b-FZyj2Zh5-tUULOT28cE_AYngtIVxumhGn00mu5lrQS002VRpQjSVMseblnyrA8nhUISJRK-GfNbAGk7ur0-aXPYibeuvQ7OJ4_101xUdJm2FWAKpr7dJUXw/s320/IMAG0076.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAypcnIfRDNdudqPxSkGv8dCI_eLVcgajfEg2pFOWsJ46X9qt747AR-lUbzmhIayGbPqoIKixnZB7goiXBmYYOrRBhnObMjt3oBigUhU9W_1bR5efTGr9B4VEtBkUc9Mvl86hIfw/s1600/IMAG0081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAypcnIfRDNdudqPxSkGv8dCI_eLVcgajfEg2pFOWsJ46X9qt747AR-lUbzmhIayGbPqoIKixnZB7goiXBmYYOrRBhnObMjt3oBigUhU9W_1bR5efTGr9B4VEtBkUc9Mvl86hIfw/s320/IMAG0081.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Live young parsley plants are, frankly, too expensive to keep buying every day. After we ran out of live parsley on the fourth day, I bought some bunches of organic parsley from the grocery store.<br />
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At 99 cents for a bunch that lasts a few days, I can live with it. And the caterpillars don't seem to mind. I just trim the stems and pop the parsley into the PVC vases.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkrM16dliRS_JUgJ4Cqb15Ix2xeURf4RuZpLLtBIacqNHHCJFSRodPQHXwWOlgmf1ZAZMJPx4ejyLU4NCmYumozkitp6JctnUV7dKSOsG8IlbO9gBxaJS6qu41z2ivru-nrZryA/s1600/IMAG0093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkrM16dliRS_JUgJ4Cqb15Ix2xeURf4RuZpLLtBIacqNHHCJFSRodPQHXwWOlgmf1ZAZMJPx4ejyLU4NCmYumozkitp6JctnUV7dKSOsG8IlbO9gBxaJS6qu41z2ivru-nrZryA/s320/IMAG0093.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Today, we only have 1 of these 34 caterpillars still as a caterpillar. The rest have turned into chrysalides!<br />
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Some of the caterpillars pupated on the screen of the castle.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxb87PgPZW0Xqf-QrtWvvBtJuYzHBlKxiN0Psum_MjwIZ6qPivKtHoMi2umo0qhUUg0-y1SpJMDzN1jQUDRtLW9isSaJsb6Wz6fvDApBu_eYp-_Y0FFVuR9Do_kUzcjFaFFSfTQ/s1600/chrysalis3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxb87PgPZW0Xqf-QrtWvvBtJuYzHBlKxiN0Psum_MjwIZ6qPivKtHoMi2umo0qhUUg0-y1SpJMDzN1jQUDRtLW9isSaJsb6Wz6fvDApBu_eYp-_Y0FFVuR9Do_kUzcjFaFFSfTQ/s320/chrysalis3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And some of them found a spot on the wood. Swallowtail chrysalides are either green or brown, and it seems that they try to pick the color that matches most closely to the surface where they settle down to pupate. Camouflage!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugyh-K3nLeKQzYv227DW2PsO02YOd9b04YNL002TF68QmM76iMXngqEiE_UIl8WpIIscjvK5bKHdhZ_bkhn1c3fa7qiErAbLhbX-B4xB8H4AcVhGP_SZ-urkSZb0FsfxwqX6HQQ/s1600/chrysalis2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugyh-K3nLeKQzYv227DW2PsO02YOd9b04YNL002TF68QmM76iMXngqEiE_UIl8WpIIscjvK5bKHdhZ_bkhn1c3fa7qiErAbLhbX-B4xB8H4AcVhGP_SZ-urkSZb0FsfxwqX6HQQ/s320/chrysalis2.jpg" width="253" /></a></div>
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We had a problem with about 10 of the pupas; the caterpillars decided to use a parsley stem. In the wild, it would probably be okay for a caterpillar to pupate on a fairly sturdy stem, but our parsley was cut, and it started to wilt.</div>
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The droopy parsley stems cause the chrysalis to hang upside down, which isn't good for it. We had to zip-tie the wilty stems on to a stick, so the chrysalides can stay upright until the butterflies are ready to emerge.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGxO4pnXRjtJcMOWsbcYu_OfMOMGZxLgIZR4hLjJmFizwiUsQY22Mv1JSNDe3s_UuBjTYudQzmTmtNTpMyNvYMWYU1yjS3ReHsUYowukoLyS7vv7IPsEZK8vv2RCsdoYAlLuxHQ/s1600/chrysalis1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGxO4pnXRjtJcMOWsbcYu_OfMOMGZxLgIZR4hLjJmFizwiUsQY22Mv1JSNDe3s_UuBjTYudQzmTmtNTpMyNvYMWYU1yjS3ReHsUYowukoLyS7vv7IPsEZK8vv2RCsdoYAlLuxHQ/s320/chrysalis1.jpg" width="188" /></a></div>
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They'll spend about 2 weeks in the chrysalis before emerging as big Swallowtail butterflies, which we'll release into our garden. The good thing about chrysalides is that they don't eat/poop constantly.<br />
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So we're almost done with Caterpillar Batch 1. <br />
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Now comes Batch 2!<br />
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Last Saturday, Byrd and I watched a swallowtail butterfly neatly place tiny little green eggs on the dill plant.<br />
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In four days, the eggs hatched into microscopic black caterpillars.<br />
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I tried to get a picture of one. Can you see it there? This is a two-day-old eastern black swallowtail caterpillar. It is at a stage called "first instar." <em>Instar</em> is the stage of the caterpillar's growth.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYCyZiLaehJoGTvPTWhaS8Rv2b9Fc010MYGz34tyE99B3rvjTwmsryJCfzMQ4qSrcgabLUtnQv3bIB3ocC05ELIpnWHsJYj_hyphenhyphenSKIcLDpAFy_jO1DxqLEVMuoIOLmWi7xsSX5v7A/s1600/tinycat1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYCyZiLaehJoGTvPTWhaS8Rv2b9Fc010MYGz34tyE99B3rvjTwmsryJCfzMQ4qSrcgabLUtnQv3bIB3ocC05ELIpnWHsJYj_hyphenhyphenSKIcLDpAFy_jO1DxqLEVMuoIOLmWi7xsSX5v7A/s1600/tinycat1.jpg" /></a></div>
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When the first instar caterpillar sheds its skin, it becomes <em>second instar</em>. Swallowtail caterpillars go through four instars before pupating.<br />
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I wanted to leave the caterpillars on the dill plant for as long as possible. But today, most of the caterpillars had reached second instar, and they were starting to get eaten by soldier bug nymphs, which look like tiny, bright red beetles.<br />
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So I removed the little caterpillars to one of our aquariums.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVq85dPEcaOA8X-xIEoxXYI_RKHoyt146I39jiur-Ky6SCTaqtA_xwCA3y2AqQC-LMBBfL_0QuZNzx1BaGQn5bCL7GTz6Jiy15RvqM3VOqtcJDSyL9cQ3kaH_CzzvRboD2UI5IA/s1600/IMAG0096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVq85dPEcaOA8X-xIEoxXYI_RKHoyt146I39jiur-Ky6SCTaqtA_xwCA3y2AqQC-LMBBfL_0QuZNzx1BaGQn5bCL7GTz6Jiy15RvqM3VOqtcJDSyL9cQ3kaH_CzzvRboD2UI5IA/s320/IMAG0096.jpg" width="165" /></a></div>
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I counted approximately 55 caterpillars in Batch 2!</div>
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Can you see the difference between first and second instar? These caterpillars have shed their skin once, and now have more orange color.</div>
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We will probably keep these little guys in the tank for the first week. When they're larger, we'll move them into the caterpillar castle.<br />
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Hopefully, by then, Batch 1 will be butterflies.<br />
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But that's not all. Today we saw another swallowtail butterfly laying her eggs all over the dill! In another week, we will have Batch 3. :O<br />
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By the end of summer, we'll probably have raised and released over 100 butterflies. Totally worth it!<br />
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Here's a random shot of Star, since she didn't get to be in this blog post for any other reason. She had some crazy upright ears going on.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOF7q3jkzBUXM8bY_rmJ0GZET4IA0owily09Ns5f-e0Nf07EfewchMKqQL9KjUSr9_kyW3wCTYyELdOQwbp6LqG8rurBaxXF4noTXKH8ozIinWZUS76TGMl-B5IctNiu_20QvJ2A/s1600/starears.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOF7q3jkzBUXM8bY_rmJ0GZET4IA0owily09Ns5f-e0Nf07EfewchMKqQL9KjUSr9_kyW3wCTYyELdOQwbp6LqG8rurBaxXF4noTXKH8ozIinWZUS76TGMl-B5IctNiu_20QvJ2A/s320/starears.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What're YOU looking at?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-57633085892378143892012-05-16T13:47:00.000-05:002012-05-17T09:20:10.048-05:00Homecooked MealsI'm in a short recess between semesters, and of course, I can't actually <em>take a break</em> for some stupid reason, so I've taken on a bunch of projects. One of which is my new plan for feeding the dogs: homecooked meals.<br />
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You may remember that last year's <a href="http://happypitbull.blogspot.com/2011/03/raw-feeding.html" target="_blank">raw food experiment</a> was a failure, for a number of reasons. For example, I'm a germ-o-phobe, and it bothered me to no end to watch the dogs put their paws all over raw chunks of meat, then walk around our house. I was baby-wiping their feet after every meal.<br />
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Also, Star hates raw meat. Hates it. When offered raw meat, she runs off, hunched over, head down, tail between her legs—as if we just offered her a beating.<br />
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But commercial kibble has its share of problems too. The recent food recalls. The mysterious shortage of rabbit that makes it impossible to keep Dozer on a rabbit-only diet. The 25-lb bag of food that costs nearly $60.<br />
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So I'm compromising. I'm cooking.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQ-zTTyAw4ii-bgMSLoGUK_cIAInNWjCP3Nv4Omq-TvdwNK9ZWQQ55xDqi54gt-UWYdJnfdVRGiyXf4GMbrjfG9RWMTKylpNyLV0516uj9SR2znSt3454i-f3ZZL62VMyisbOwA/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQ-zTTyAw4ii-bgMSLoGUK_cIAInNWjCP3Nv4Omq-TvdwNK9ZWQQ55xDqi54gt-UWYdJnfdVRGiyXf4GMbrjfG9RWMTKylpNyLV0516uj9SR2znSt3454i-f3ZZL62VMyisbOwA/s320/001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I bought six chickens at the store last weekend.<br />
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It's really difficult to cram six chickens into the fridge. I got three in the meat drawer, and three where the milk should go.<br />
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Waaaaiiit a minute, you're saying. Isn't Dozer allergic to most meat proteins? Isn't that the point of the special, expensive, impossible-to-find rabbit-based kibble?<br />
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Well, here's the thing. We didn't experiment much with the food allergy. The dermatology/allergy vet started us on the rabbit-based food, and things improved, so we assumed that rabbit was the key.<br />
<ul>
<li>Dozer was originally eating Natural Balance Limited Ingredient kibble of various flavors, and he was reacting to it. The meat proteins varied, and the starch/binder was usually rice or potato.</li>
<li>With the derm vet, we started him on Royal Canin Veterinary Diet, which is rabbit and potato. He was still getting staph infections, but it was much improved.</li>
<li>Then we switched to Instinct—rabbit and tapioca—and the staph infections cleared up.</li>
<li>Instinct then ran out of rabbits, so Dozer currently eats Natural Balance Alpha, which uses a combo of lamb, chicken, and rabbit, and the binder is chickpeas. He's still doing great.</li>
</ul>
So I wondered, why isn't Dozer reacting to the chicken and lamb in the Alpha?<br />
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<em>Perhaps,</em> it's not actually a meat protein allergy, it's a starch/gluten problem. That is, perhaps Dozer is allergic to starches like grains, rice, and potato, but does fine with gluten-free binders like tapioca and chickpeas.<br />
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Makes sense to me.<br />
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Under this theory, I could switch Dozer to some non-rabbit-based, gluten-free dog food, which would be easier to find. Trouble is, most of the foods made with gluten-free binders are still RIDICULOUSLY F-ING EXPENSIVE. But, yes, I am considering this possibility.<br />
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In the meantime, I'm testing the theory that home-cooked meals might be a cheaper solution.<br />
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I cooked four of the chickens at once. I wanted to cook all six, but my pans weren't big enough.<br />
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These chickens are nothing fancy. Wash them off, rub some olive oil on them, put them in a 425-degree oven for about 1.5 hours.<br />
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Don't they look good?? Yeah, we thought so too. So we ate some chicken for dinner! In fact, it was kind of awesome, because with only one chicken, Byrd and I would fight over the dark meat, but this time we could each have our fill of legs and thighs.<br />
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Dozer stood next to me in the kitchen and drooled while I pulled all the meat off the chicken bones for storage. (Cooked chicken bones are NOT safe for dogs to eat.)<br />
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I got a total of 8 pounds of meat off the 4 chickens. And that was after we ate at least a pound ourselves for dinner. The chickens were $5-6 each. It comes out to about $2.50-$3 per pound.<br />
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I think the kibble probably costs just a little bit less. :(<br />
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But then again, I've never seen the dogs so excited about their dinner.<br />
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Recently, we also found a new dehydrated dog food that is gluten-free and rabbit protein, and it smells delicious when you add hot water. It's about the same price as kibble. But storage is much easier because the bag is smaller, yet it still makes the same amount of food as a big bag of kibble. Modern technology!<br />
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Currently, we're doing a hybrid sort of meal. The dogs get kibble as a base. They get a serving of re-hydrated food, some cooked chicken, and a supplement. They also get various snacks during the day, like cottage cheese, egg, or chicken livers. I won't pretend it's a balanced meal, but at the moment, it's an experiment to see what they can eat without Dozer breaking out with staph and Star running away like a coward.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLp5N-qXiqXtlyF_VByvUXQbgnjEhYX9r7-SXdpmJaAcgOdmRVIgERFGrlyuAlZVkH59_TmnMjPcvk7VUwdqBj9rRWpYdme37dihbR6ZpyZaOm7f2FO_ikZ0mJhUZmNkMtaFYOg/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLp5N-qXiqXtlyF_VByvUXQbgnjEhYX9r7-SXdpmJaAcgOdmRVIgERFGrlyuAlZVkH59_TmnMjPcvk7VUwdqBj9rRWpYdme37dihbR6ZpyZaOm7f2FO_ikZ0mJhUZmNkMtaFYOg/s320/010.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-79039010938083810662012-03-20T21:11:00.000-05:002012-03-22T18:15:32.954-05:00How to foster a litter of pupsAs revealed in a previous post... I'm fostering five German Shepherd mix puppies that are five weeks old.<br />
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At this age, all day and all night, they play, eat, sleep, and potty.
I'll keep them for three weeks, until they are neutered. Hopefully, they'll all be adopted during the pre-adopt period, and their new families will pick them up immediately after their surgery.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipIWZvJDRE9Dyi6u6_ziRaWAuq7T2rsKC5uGzE2dWRw3gsNUkiSk63tm-K2q3XksBGQsJbE4sLEBgzDRJgGWaVt5a4rj0jKsaP6zM2v58SNdv7og-TjyAxD380yGSotKYKwioY-Q/s1600/019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipIWZvJDRE9Dyi6u6_ziRaWAuq7T2rsKC5uGzE2dWRw3gsNUkiSk63tm-K2q3XksBGQsJbE4sLEBgzDRJgGWaVt5a4rj0jKsaP6zM2v58SNdv7og-TjyAxD380yGSotKYKwioY-Q/s320/019.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L to R: Buttercup, Lily, Sweet William, and Dandelion. Daisy is not in the shot.</td></tr>
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If you've been following the blog for a while, you may remember my last litter of foster puppies. (Read about them <a href="http://happypitbull.blogspot.com/2010/07/puppies-puppies-everywhere.html" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="http://happypitbull.blogspot.com/2010/08/foster-puppies-week-three.html" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="http://happypitbull.blogspot.com/2010/08/puppies-week-four.html" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="http://happypitbull.blogspot.com/2010/09/foster-puppies-week-six.html" target="_blank">here</a>, and <a href="http://happypitbull.blogspot.com/2010/09/and-theyre-gone.html" target="_blank">here</a>.)
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Today I want to answer the question: <em>what does it take to foster a litter of puppies?</em> Short answer: a LOT of time, energy, and money. Yep, even though the foster organization is covering all the medical expenses, it still costs a surprising amount of money to foster! The food, toys, and utilities (mostly, running the washing machine every day) are all on me.
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Also, you need a spare room <strong>that can be ruined.</strong> In my case, the upstairs bathroom will some day be remodeled. Until then, it's a great "nursery." If the puppies gnaw on the cabinets or poop on the wall, it's no big deal. Other benefits to a bathroom: I have a sink in the room—great for filling water bowls and cleaning—and the floor isn't carpet.
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The daily work is extensive. The pups constantly need fresh food and water and a clean potty area.<br />
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This is what I see every time I check on the puppies (every couple of hours):
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbKsxx_GaKMpAPYhTH69KsRhPzkqAkMy0dg_yg-aKqo2kXA3TXZm3z2IYCTp_q5p8IhKKLUvVdN6gBi5t2QxGveYDERRnQAWe3TrOZZg_emHztJBZZ3xZ6-o2GPtkYJJwJNbDhg/s1600/025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbKsxx_GaKMpAPYhTH69KsRhPzkqAkMy0dg_yg-aKqo2kXA3TXZm3z2IYCTp_q5p8IhKKLUvVdN6gBi5t2QxGveYDERRnQAWe3TrOZZg_emHztJBZZ3xZ6-o2GPtkYJJwJNbDhg/s320/025.JPG" width="320" /></a>
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The puppies are excited to see me—because they've spilled all their water (no-tip bowls are pointless, they put their paws into the bowl no matter what, then "walk" the water everywhere) and eaten all their food, and they know I'm about to hook them up.
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji5Ten7QUWOcHK7VEPPHyLA3cGf4XGBVziPZytXjlQvefPRCAoBQWwlU31_NJz7SNcrT3_sAdxRGAs7nsufxkzVFg4VsrshxQ9vUhjXy80di5BfOEYsqssGMpatdyZR6yoCCaD4w/s1600/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji5Ten7QUWOcHK7VEPPHyLA3cGf4XGBVziPZytXjlQvefPRCAoBQWwlU31_NJz7SNcrT3_sAdxRGAs7nsufxkzVFg4VsrshxQ9vUhjXy80di5BfOEYsqssGMpatdyZR6yoCCaD4w/s320/021.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L to R: Dandelion, Sweet William (on bottom), Daisy (on top), Lily</td></tr>
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Just outside the bathroom, I have a cleaning station ready: an empty kennel, a pile of newspaper and butcher paper, a bucket and bleach, and a trash can.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge72-yI5BNPrEFcnI07opORAh-a7UhBsBZ4Y2I-GhETqrcPMgUjzQ3PcMQgapftrzgB-PwPeUC83cASGiQ9FOOeNQiGd7htThzOy1r2MW7S9f_Mf4-jaDSZc__Rj1K8WGGU4ZBLQ/s1600/033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge72-yI5BNPrEFcnI07opORAh-a7UhBsBZ4Y2I-GhETqrcPMgUjzQ3PcMQgapftrzgB-PwPeUC83cASGiQ9FOOeNQiGd7htThzOy1r2MW7S9f_Mf4-jaDSZc__Rj1K8WGGU4ZBLQ/s320/033.JPG" width="240" /></a>
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Every couple hours, I change the puppies' paper. Even in the middle of the night: I change the paper at 2:00 AM and 6:00 AM. The puppies make the biggest messes during the day when they play on the newspaper. They mostly sleep at night, so I don't have to change the paper as frequently. Four-hour gaps are okay, so I can get <em>some</em> sleep!<br />
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<strong>Newspaper is worth its weight in gold</strong> to a puppy foster! I go through a 1-foot stack of newspaper in a few days. It's a perfect size when spread open, and it's absorbent.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIpWmPUe4zhuQzWn5-RdaK4eTwKfM2mtg9iv1-OFZa8o2ddZRgVU3N3jhu6cmeYHGuyEe3puUBRJZj7ZRAlHsIYzuhAYMNIWVfPJ5HuHvsIAWuMMqEQac8RLNUCYguhFH8NinRmQ/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIpWmPUe4zhuQzWn5-RdaK4eTwKfM2mtg9iv1-OFZa8o2ddZRgVU3N3jhu6cmeYHGuyEe3puUBRJZj7ZRAlHsIYzuhAYMNIWVfPJ5HuHvsIAWuMMqEQac8RLNUCYguhFH8NinRmQ/s320/011.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dogs were more interested in this pile of newspaper than they were interested in the puppies. :-/</td></tr>
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I just recently learned that our local newspaper, the Austin American Statesman, has a bin of day-old newspapers destined for recycling and free to take. It's a bit of a drive to go downtown, but totally worth it to get all the newspaper I could possibly need. (Prior to this, I was digging through the paper recycling bins at our local recycling center.)
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My dad also donates his and his neighbor's newspaper. The Wall Street Journal that I get from him covers a lot of area and doesn't have a lot of useless ad pages.
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I bought a 1000' roll of butcher paper from Sam's Club for $20. This goes under the newspaper. It makes cleanup very quick. Every day, I cut about 15 long pieces off the roll.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXWK5tAsKvJUSM6ThKlEmndQLy1tgrVeV0l6NrKwPYAtVLGYEI9L4gdDYCxtLaFt9SHhjIu6xWaDL_1ye46CroapY57BuhzNaEP3ZfrxyBZbJ8b2XtUdkqUtm6UPTjuE4JLvMlmw/s1600/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXWK5tAsKvJUSM6ThKlEmndQLy1tgrVeV0l6NrKwPYAtVLGYEI9L4gdDYCxtLaFt9SHhjIu6xWaDL_1ye46CroapY57BuhzNaEP3ZfrxyBZbJ8b2XtUdkqUtm6UPTjuE4JLvMlmw/s320/030.JPG" width="240" /></a>
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Once a day, I do a more thorough cleaning. The puppies all go into the empty kennel so I can pick everything up off the floor, vacuum, and wipe the room down with bleach water.
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I run a load of puppy laundry—towels, stuffed toys, blankets—every day, on the "sanitary" setting. I have a LOT of old towels, so I have half of them clean / used in the puppy room while I'm washing the other half in the machine.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg43H01Q_u_5OEgKa2zE1_i3pEkeQGgie7NXaUjgSV-bDw5_DJrSHwg_SRkpGMyPSV74yTfnPZCJ-_hqGSBJPuyyCwffRVJPYyMCkdeEuSJhXOG4m1LrJ1iansxp-hKF6IuWvfPMQ/s1600/031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg43H01Q_u_5OEgKa2zE1_i3pEkeQGgie7NXaUjgSV-bDw5_DJrSHwg_SRkpGMyPSV74yTfnPZCJ-_hqGSBJPuyyCwffRVJPYyMCkdeEuSJhXOG4m1LrJ1iansxp-hKF6IuWvfPMQ/s320/031.JPG" width="320" /></a>
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Aahh, fresh paper on the floor and in the shower! The puppies go back into the room after everything is clean.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qwBy0n9chBRGIcVl8BMtYP06PprdRyn4kGUzvGYNac_FJdXy2ze58Nx0Ur4zkUQnaYJYoW3caa14APVt4rodUawF_rd1_Tk_IWwO2QagSO2ry_tI-uCvXlGqKNEeKa91G45PDA/s1600/035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qwBy0n9chBRGIcVl8BMtYP06PprdRyn4kGUzvGYNac_FJdXy2ze58Nx0Ur4zkUQnaYJYoW3caa14APVt4rodUawF_rd1_Tk_IWwO2QagSO2ry_tI-uCvXlGqKNEeKa91G45PDA/s320/035.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Five seconds in, someone already peed on the paper.</td></tr>
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These puppies have decided to use the shower for pooping (most of the time, anyway). I don't know how they figured that out, but it works to my advantage. The shower lip keeps them from romping wildly through the shower, and therefore they don't play in the poop. Much.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84BV1CHdYF04aeBp5aQIrpfpIoF5fS1g3NEftREnpNqdCmhtckd5xESq5UMUbbD-VseOnCAdgHzmJKwuCAB4SyhzY1hnTHsxF5UtnD1DlVNbgP864oosRfhQL7mBi7BgbgZe-mA/s1600/036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84BV1CHdYF04aeBp5aQIrpfpIoF5fS1g3NEftREnpNqdCmhtckd5xESq5UMUbbD-VseOnCAdgHzmJKwuCAB4SyhzY1hnTHsxF5UtnD1DlVNbgP864oosRfhQL7mBi7BgbgZe-mA/s320/036.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eating kibble.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgKMTCuUuMZ73LKu0cwdp5z6wyf9Sq9yFPQUFO0U_pCijd0vZ7Z3DcpYr3ZEkWAFrcyAWUQiZq6Ljqls5DqfISHssiO9WhnD0Pn_HVEPSJwnXwMQgFTRVhu4eFF_VmO14B8xsREA/s1600/057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgKMTCuUuMZ73LKu0cwdp5z6wyf9Sq9yFPQUFO0U_pCijd0vZ7Z3DcpYr3ZEkWAFrcyAWUQiZq6Ljqls5DqfISHssiO9WhnD0Pn_HVEPSJwnXwMQgFTRVhu4eFF_VmO14B8xsREA/s320/057.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging out. Already a mess in there.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjUZNJGblFPo22mvzXuFzvFbYFPbw5uIBdzgBXdczJ2I-EWZQQMLC_BMjdQbKssvd3O-gHzCcWm7TbtVqSVc1FFojF8ZgRI9EQC5w4alRMGpec1iRSi2o7NlriTHnCE0Dk0KNFAw/s1600/037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjUZNJGblFPo22mvzXuFzvFbYFPbw5uIBdzgBXdczJ2I-EWZQQMLC_BMjdQbKssvd3O-gHzCcWm7TbtVqSVc1FFojF8ZgRI9EQC5w4alRMGpec1iRSi2o7NlriTHnCE0Dk0KNFAw/s320/037.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buttercup. Teething. On my hand.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuMgtiTfYK5TVQDa4JQmPy7KUu8pq8sTdchY5fkkDdqLgGAvNOxSVs11Uo2KVCKyckvxjIC1Bdi8YdHa2pDLE427OV0NcdGO0nsz8zcRONr4qpeISLAfFIWqFy5Spc9s6a4Oto4g/s1600/039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuMgtiTfYK5TVQDa4JQmPy7KUu8pq8sTdchY5fkkDdqLgGAvNOxSVs11Uo2KVCKyckvxjIC1Bdi8YdHa2pDLE427OV0NcdGO0nsz8zcRONr4qpeISLAfFIWqFy5Spc9s6a4Oto4g/s320/039.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lily. Teething. Also on my hand.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-0irUQws0lSXbzJlFqBJYK9QtfFSuPzcI6hW0G05sXUkSLTg026VSxoi_tNtPg49MKFQW4y_vbKisftqJHnLlQvhyphenhyphenQX9OEJgNrZBfvyKWb6DsW6udMySa85C6NRD6sU3Ex1kzg/s1600/052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-0irUQws0lSXbzJlFqBJYK9QtfFSuPzcI6hW0G05sXUkSLTg026VSxoi_tNtPg49MKFQW4y_vbKisftqJHnLlQvhyphenhyphenQX9OEJgNrZBfvyKWb6DsW6udMySa85C6NRD6sU3Ex1kzg/s320/052.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lily didn't quite make it into the shower, so she's just peeing down the side... ah, puppies...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And that's just the daily work!
Weekly, all the puppies get a bath and a nail trim. Also coming up: a three-hour round trip to the medical clinic for their vaccinations, and the pre-adopt work (photos and bios for each pup, scheduling potential adopters to see them).
<br />
<br />
I can only foster once in a while, and this is only my second litter. Some people foster litters all the time. I have no idea how they do it! I need a LONG break to recover. :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-85890208393882974822012-03-14T15:09:00.000-05:002012-03-14T15:09:38.479-05:00Puppy fever<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Something is wrong with me.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIA094UrqR7JzQDXR86fRSu0f13oF5bx9oPkQ05a1L9bU81s7PHb31P0hxDRugMIeyUgJXi9RjcCzwGUrakZ0YNH6gsY1zShsON3jgdEpGsIlR5mJM2MqZVT38ZJJ0M9hyphenhyphenmVBQXw/s1600/059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIA094UrqR7JzQDXR86fRSu0f13oF5bx9oPkQ05a1L9bU81s7PHb31P0hxDRugMIeyUgJXi9RjcCzwGUrakZ0YNH6gsY1zShsON3jgdEpGsIlR5mJM2MqZVT38ZJJ0M9hyphenhyphenmVBQXw/s320/059.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three of five new foster puppies</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlO9HoBoTMUrPHC6dvf4zscOLOyXIl9Y_U-WE88KxzPfW5IgUTnZ-Atxt7z7FmP_rlLCGhGSX5Vhopcyt84TmPp6dfdi_SbnMbQFEySsHtnHcSUKsOe5J2pb26Oqtg0WYFmZL9Q/s1600/053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlO9HoBoTMUrPHC6dvf4zscOLOyXIl9Y_U-WE88KxzPfW5IgUTnZ-Atxt7z7FmP_rlLCGhGSX5Vhopcyt84TmPp6dfdi_SbnMbQFEySsHtnHcSUKsOe5J2pb26Oqtg0WYFmZL9Q/s320/053.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The other two, sleeping behind the toilet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I was all like, hey, I have an exam and a presentation coming up, I've just gotten over being sick, I'm having trouble getting to the housework and website work, I'm prepping for a garage sale next weekend... Really, how much harder could it be to add some five-week-old puppies? Hahahaha!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3sK2xPG2fej13f_ao2LIIXdvc7Fz6hQqyFC4n_b5w5D8_TjZm9_QM2V0R-Sy_r-SvMGsk_IFEnNijRSGWoQuO3HzuGPLOlYJFh5BLFNhqZDLSesQ1rUcMjGcsuDR9_4cFdhVEAA/s1600/062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3sK2xPG2fej13f_ao2LIIXdvc7Fz6hQqyFC4n_b5w5D8_TjZm9_QM2V0R-Sy_r-SvMGsk_IFEnNijRSGWoQuO3HzuGPLOlYJFh5BLFNhqZDLSesQ1rUcMjGcsuDR9_4cFdhVEAA/s320/062.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Actually, what I really said was, I can totally foster ONE puppy for this ONE WEEK (spring break).</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And my foster group was like, cool, we do not have one puppy for one week.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And I was like, but I gotta get me a foster puppy something bad.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And my foster group was like, cool, we have five puppies for three weeks?</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And Byrd was all like, NO NO NO no no awwww yes all five please now now now.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And I was like, damn it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-18592160607572756012012-02-29T09:59:00.000-06:002012-02-29T09:59:17.158-06:00Must touch you.Star has somehow come to believe that she is only allowed on the bed if she is touching one of us.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KlGcSE2E24uTjx68K1b-ncRz6sqCJa-RLVijnfZDJAuyAwtKayoYn3hB2O7LZIJchf7-eoVrIBbETAxiF0_m3B1g8bESumoUc5bxJOmp471JQXFKiki8pMRHsJjSCoShCwCw1A/s1600/029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KlGcSE2E24uTjx68K1b-ncRz6sqCJa-RLVijnfZDJAuyAwtKayoYn3hB2O7LZIJchf7-eoVrIBbETAxiF0_m3B1g8bESumoUc5bxJOmp471JQXFKiki8pMRHsJjSCoShCwCw1A/s320/029.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glancing at me to see if I'm "satisfied" with the level of contact.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I am at a loss to explain how she developed this superstition.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzB7zamalttMVUcVgts6V7RBx01C8xwPdzmWGMfoCyzOhwGNbU5JaSppFfMLchkawbsmfpV4JA09uEdfH5BFDnH-9x2_9LVj5HCtRdDM_k0YZGuJ9IwtEw0zzgGY_Ubaiyz8-RAA/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzB7zamalttMVUcVgts6V7RBx01C8xwPdzmWGMfoCyzOhwGNbU5JaSppFfMLchkawbsmfpV4JA09uEdfH5BFDnH-9x2_9LVj5HCtRdDM_k0YZGuJ9IwtEw0zzgGY_Ubaiyz8-RAA/s320/018.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm touching! I'm touching!! Don't kick me off!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>If you tell her to get off the bed, she frantically adjusts so that even <i>more </i>of her body is draped over you.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE_KkwR-4bbsTPlQkn8Mh26THCUXaozmb1O1Uj9Wh5CFo1EaoGLHfTpuItlZPhn5wL0UubrHjxsUrq_an4qKJktbcrQLR0-TzHOGlH9cjHHFTBunYMIjPC3D9N1Xy0htzAxPsg0Q/s1600/023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE_KkwR-4bbsTPlQkn8Mh26THCUXaozmb1O1Uj9Wh5CFo1EaoGLHfTpuItlZPhn5wL0UubrHjxsUrq_an4qKJktbcrQLR0-TzHOGlH9cjHHFTBunYMIjPC3D9N1Xy0htzAxPsg0Q/s320/023.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Noooo! Is the paw not enough??"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtiX2c23cxDgNUa6PweA3OaYWUAibUUhnbVlJPZ1EwTOaHsXJ1wPXCdrUmxXNNolo_CpJfwmwcENJP35QzD4OEJurLsqLUzKkK4Dv0ImAcQhDhU9gZE5eZlBF_nl7i33XyV7ChRw/s1600/038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtiX2c23cxDgNUa6PweA3OaYWUAibUUhnbVlJPZ1EwTOaHsXJ1wPXCdrUmxXNNolo_CpJfwmwcENJP35QzD4OEJurLsqLUzKkK4Dv0ImAcQhDhU9gZE5eZlBF_nl7i33XyV7ChRw/s320/038.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Okay, how 'bout... my whole head!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-18097042033453821982012-02-28T11:02:00.000-06:002012-02-28T11:02:40.020-06:00We are not amused.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Last weekend there was this tiny stray dog in my backyard.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF2egi8dcZP86QPGQc81d96S1qJY3fDXlmKodthESBs9XJ-_VVtOMBQbqeTVHOYXyWtjTp0zhSr4MHrs35e-Cuwwb7vzyP66zuVkFg6Np5vaEv_MHjKVzBOwhexTpQUMwRU3XGfA/s1600/052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF2egi8dcZP86QPGQc81d96S1qJY3fDXlmKodthESBs9XJ-_VVtOMBQbqeTVHOYXyWtjTp0zhSr4MHrs35e-Cuwwb7vzyP66zuVkFg6Np5vaEv_MHjKVzBOwhexTpQUMwRU3XGfA/s320/052.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
I took her straight to the vet for a microchip check. No luck.<br />
<br />
She was cute and shy, but also extremely dog-aggressive. As in, she wanted to attack the neighbor's German Shepherds through the fence, and also took every opportunity to start a fight with my dogs.<br />
<br />
So I closed her up in our bathroom when I wasn't taking her out to potty--and kept her on a leash when she was outside, so she couldn't charge the fence. Separation is possibly the best method of dealing with dog-aggression.<br />
<br />
Dozer could have cared less. He ignored the obnoxious little dog and all of her growling threats toward him. As long as he can walk away from another dog, he will.<br />
<br />
Star is more complicated. She <i>really</i> likes to tromple all over other dogs. If the other dog is a playful little puppy who's into rough play, it works out great for both dogs. If the other dog is aggressive rather than playful, the interaction can turn sour, and a little dog is obviously at a disadvantage.<br />
<br />
I kept Star in a down-stay whenever I had to take the little dog out of the bathroom. Star restrained herself admirably, even though she clearly wished that the stray could be a tromple-buddy. She kept play-bowing to the little dog from her down position across the room, which was a sweet gesture but only sent the little dog to the end of her leash with a ferocious roar.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uThXrKy77l0bNVsJMXqSLkTIzpvYyIQQlVSLlpbu1hBdSjXvk4RNoSYSfMc4GVk_BGB8ocxzXL7aiUzDvGjzeJ3vxA6fHdqeNGjLNVtOUZ1fNphIv4_rQ2gA-CjQDDtLsD-g6A/s1600/043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uThXrKy77l0bNVsJMXqSLkTIzpvYyIQQlVSLlpbu1hBdSjXvk4RNoSYSfMc4GVk_BGB8ocxzXL7aiUzDvGjzeJ3vxA6fHdqeNGjLNVtOUZ1fNphIv4_rQ2gA-CjQDDtLsD-g6A/s320/043.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Anyway, after walking the entire neighborhood asking people if they recognized the dog ("Nope"), posting Found Dog notices on Craigslist and the local animal shelter websites, and making posters, it happened that the dog started barking in our bathroom... and I immediately recognized the bark. Yes, folks, I can hear a dog bark and I can guess which neighbor's dog it is.<br />
<br />
There is a neighbor a few houses down with a solid fence, so no one can see the dog she has, but you can hear it barking during the day. This little dog's bark sounded the same.<br />
<br />
So I managed to get the dog back to its owner in about 24 hours.<br />
<br />
Usually I would suggest a microchip or a collar, but this neighbor doesn't speak English very well, and I don't know enough Spanish to do more than to tell her that her car is yellow, or ask whether her head is made of cabbage. So unfortunately the responsible ownership tips had to be left out. I did manage to say that "tu perro recibe un bano" (still not sure I said what I meant), and she said Gracias.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWElICE54DNQ0strHZMkFVZ4Z9o5dFlp3ZB4-3cOdfZT7x_JJNp3lcAnYKIio24HVAAxhNyldUOgV6nKuijRopB-kd3anoIGnrCCzkGTj0ylXBUfSw4AnEPyUhyphenhyphenoqKtH0a6BZEg/s1600/051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWElICE54DNQ0strHZMkFVZ4Z9o5dFlp3ZB4-3cOdfZT7x_JJNp3lcAnYKIio24HVAAxhNyldUOgV6nKuijRopB-kd3anoIGnrCCzkGTj0ylXBUfSw4AnEPyUhyphenhyphenoqKtH0a6BZEg/s320/051.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
This was quite possibly the most dog-aggressive dog I have ever had the displeasure of temporarily housing. I think it serves as yet another important reminder that dog-aggression can be a problem with dogs of any shape, size, breed, or mix—and further, that the triggers and consequences of dog-aggression are different with EVERY dog. Every dog is an individual and should be evaluated as an individual.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-15094557529282163632012-01-29T11:28:00.000-06:002012-01-29T11:28:16.377-06:00The grass is always greener...... in Texas "winter."<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0C0P_lS3CG1JGT8VnebRtteecx_HoEKyg65aswxiYTxlFHlrp-OK44cMLicPJC8rlly7M5ZJtX9CDPSM-5EIlwm0rMPkiyDWykUlLYkr3kShX0nrvuzoK2rPJvziNqrsj5LY-A/s1600/025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0C0P_lS3CG1JGT8VnebRtteecx_HoEKyg65aswxiYTxlFHlrp-OK44cMLicPJC8rlly7M5ZJtX9CDPSM-5EIlwm0rMPkiyDWykUlLYkr3kShX0nrvuzoK2rPJvziNqrsj5LY-A/s320/025.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holy cow, that grass is green.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We plant rye grass every fall, to cut back on mud during our "rainy season." It's cool, soft, and gorgeous. And sort of ironic that I have to mow the lawn every weekend in January. (We don't mow in the summer because the grass is dead.)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYE36RMkDWpCJEj5BVevpRp4LL1kTHhnzilit5ZK__JyzolelB_3r8xle1Lz98J5AhvGMsEKt5mhxHfn0epsvkcXGHHrQSZ9odQi2CbfUI_sKzEsqDzkOJHQDT1J14FGNZhXUVeQ/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYE36RMkDWpCJEj5BVevpRp4LL1kTHhnzilit5ZK__JyzolelB_3r8xle1Lz98J5AhvGMsEKt5mhxHfn0epsvkcXGHHrQSZ9odQi2CbfUI_sKzEsqDzkOJHQDT1J14FGNZhXUVeQ/s320/010.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Throw the ball!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI4gvWLFLSveqUL3WfHmTFjTyEDstEX39jlJ_QxnpXg4w5IS91DAMafwTBVmR031jFFb_Kukln7AxdrnN7b7xH8Ts6Hm2KM9vNuihSKjMiIHqfS4LyN-_W-SNaOle_rMDhuq7VIg/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI4gvWLFLSveqUL3WfHmTFjTyEDstEX39jlJ_QxnpXg4w5IS91DAMafwTBVmR031jFFb_Kukln7AxdrnN7b7xH8Ts6Hm2KM9vNuihSKjMiIHqfS4LyN-_W-SNaOle_rMDhuq7VIg/s320/011.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"MY ball!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCSH9qlxdaiXBP_Fl3lyWJaQS1nSPYd5jEx63EOouIjWj3XIwpOYODo0WXPu2nUJN8oQPqh4WK6laJfJDWPatyCq-BEAVJFKCWR7FvagOngx1bDRN-fZMiAcmb3nmLwfjqBN8cHA/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCSH9qlxdaiXBP_Fl3lyWJaQS1nSPYd5jEx63EOouIjWj3XIwpOYODo0WXPu2nUJN8oQPqh4WK6laJfJDWPatyCq-BEAVJFKCWR7FvagOngx1bDRN-fZMiAcmb3nmLwfjqBN8cHA/s320/005.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"He's kind of a jerk, but I love him."</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This was our weekend project. Since we now have a garage, we can tear down this old shed. In three "easy" steps...</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvV4p_mjhFngYwmBeAhnIf_8dKgCMll1ogF438KxEYwfDMKdEKFWaTBkZuosX5476RFFR-WhyGw5jhwsQLjSNw0I7Dfn5M_ljtxGBaiVXcbChyphenhyphenmAv9XHNMu-_aEt2E1gTgZlx2lA/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvV4p_mjhFngYwmBeAhnIf_8dKgCMll1ogF438KxEYwfDMKdEKFWaTBkZuosX5476RFFR-WhyGw5jhwsQLjSNw0I7Dfn5M_ljtxGBaiVXcbChyphenhyphenmAv9XHNMu-_aEt2E1gTgZlx2lA/s320/001.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NY1iDMyEUdKktabb8nS5BKeBqVLztyUpQ5aV1YoMhTXMOf6lVLOiTjRqEMf522-UOKI4RY1DYN_LFwU6kWkY67-XAkqYcJ7GnrTstNbGzP8tbDndioYGfNGx1qdU_rNbj16BUQ/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NY1iDMyEUdKktabb8nS5BKeBqVLztyUpQ5aV1YoMhTXMOf6lVLOiTjRqEMf522-UOKI4RY1DYN_LFwU6kWkY67-XAkqYcJ7GnrTstNbGzP8tbDndioYGfNGx1qdU_rNbj16BUQ/s320/020.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieSIRwGUZvEcBg-iTfS1kX2zs1Mo_I288C2ZwGTHmD0J7M2JHlL2sUeUhLHSKNc_XWpjchBhQG_1Rhrn8WTAoh6_BeL6dyQGOe3HZySstYyrJCE14jvnXECww-mDqYsk1jGCkv7A/s1600/024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieSIRwGUZvEcBg-iTfS1kX2zs1Mo_I288C2ZwGTHmD0J7M2JHlL2sUeUhLHSKNc_XWpjchBhQG_1Rhrn8WTAoh6_BeL6dyQGOe3HZySstYyrJCE14jvnXECww-mDqYsk1jGCkv7A/s320/024.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three</td></tr>
</tbody></table>A little later, we moved into the new garage to do some work. Dozer made himself at home in a large plastic tub that had some old blankets in it.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLtKmRK7LyBSefZ-FGH3y-JYS4pvmX7LfvzzFa1JaVcWCwzhfGgNHzfhaB7IYNkYYXFYUvgh-KB5MIyTV8ta5fqxcQkE-rb7Iq_i_jehB0qu2nvcpl_jA85K6JWhVTGibLPX_PHw/s1600/040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLtKmRK7LyBSefZ-FGH3y-JYS4pvmX7LfvzzFa1JaVcWCwzhfGgNHzfhaB7IYNkYYXFYUvgh-KB5MIyTV8ta5fqxcQkE-rb7Iq_i_jehB0qu2nvcpl_jA85K6JWhVTGibLPX_PHw/s320/040.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"If this isn't my dog bed, why do I fit just right??"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg308BnnZPyX2cOSi7QBhMdBk3TfGa5-Rlg5lA5RCAeuJ8cgZec-QIt1Rdv59ev5fDZLEco6c3xJAk8ijCvrM8DXjFd_TqKuzWiEPJNw7E5h2xa6MI0B4le8yJK9d0QrI0owk6nAA/s1600/038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg308BnnZPyX2cOSi7QBhMdBk3TfGa5-Rlg5lA5RCAeuJ8cgZec-QIt1Rdv59ev5fDZLEco6c3xJAk8ijCvrM8DXjFd_TqKuzWiEPJNw7E5h2xa6MI0B4le8yJK9d0QrI0owk6nAA/s320/038.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfB_wiqVXK9GKkF3Xgya98JsL_xhhYWkap0pVWvA2N0iZ_7VPtEsIBsARfM0dJFC4e4VtqB7fvNZyMr_shiJSH8MJQMk9RKPh4HNoHRSE5dGX_5oVkqdgcfLFtftCyreSRFUMIqQ/s1600/043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfB_wiqVXK9GKkF3Xgya98JsL_xhhYWkap0pVWvA2N0iZ_7VPtEsIBsARfM0dJFC4e4VtqB7fvNZyMr_shiJSH8MJQMk9RKPh4HNoHRSE5dGX_5oVkqdgcfLFtftCyreSRFUMIqQ/s320/043.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
He fell asleep in the plastic tub.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-30694846941379880982012-01-15T23:41:00.000-06:002012-01-15T23:41:04.085-06:00OMG ur home!!!1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When saying "Welcome home" with ONE toy in your mouth just isn't good enough...</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPfhdamSa5j66JvykR0ga172rT7GfUmqbcQArbqPJA_1Y_KTrQS18maoTzBZwiQDQ97jQHlfPq76vtNfhbAx64o4Pylg3UZLk8eduQsiihC_SFr6tisPtQU98_NqfkKr-55nCpw/s1600/022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPfhdamSa5j66JvykR0ga172rT7GfUmqbcQArbqPJA_1Y_KTrQS18maoTzBZwiQDQ97jQHlfPq76vtNfhbAx64o4Pylg3UZLk8eduQsiihC_SFr6tisPtQU98_NqfkKr-55nCpw/s320/022.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"HI!!! These are for you!! To throw. For me."</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7aw-FNY2MZCbeKZ7lzqdPItRCnFzZ9ynT3ZgxtRy-fKmOFWYta5wcsciwgDV4-QaZO61yMUxR1buVdr3A9fivYf_qR3EcJEd2J4eK7kzdZECHOMHzC3w43NygxkQEYc01xIBbNw/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7aw-FNY2MZCbeKZ7lzqdPItRCnFzZ9ynT3ZgxtRy-fKmOFWYta5wcsciwgDV4-QaZO61yMUxR1buVdr3A9fivYf_qR3EcJEd2J4eK7kzdZECHOMHzC3w43NygxkQEYc01xIBbNw/s320/020.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"More people?? Sweet, I gotta go get more toys."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-40220346149365176612012-01-04T13:44:00.000-06:002012-01-04T13:44:38.969-06:00Holiday WorkOne awesome thing about the holidays is that Byrd gets an entire week off work. We didn't waste it! We finally moved stuff into our new garage, and... <em>organized</em> it! The result was the best Christmas gift ever. <br />
<br />
We started by buying and assembling industrial-strength shelving.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiuQwxxJs3dbWsPGXSWB0B6N5mKbtww4hvXU8l8R1di3ofkPxbnbmoKa2BJd_gI236YVvBSfnJtXri2qRPR2EKRrbFQvhqA9RprwJ4ytsTvy6BpWgLG1diiwa3N1AAT1_P9A1pnA/s1600/022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiuQwxxJs3dbWsPGXSWB0B6N5mKbtww4hvXU8l8R1di3ofkPxbnbmoKa2BJd_gI236YVvBSfnJtXri2qRPR2EKRrbFQvhqA9RprwJ4ytsTvy6BpWgLG1diiwa3N1AAT1_P9A1pnA/s320/022.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> Then we started hauling Byrd's tools and whatnot into the garage...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcAWjFAiYdjBlXafVRqjACkFQskCmeETzeSRAj6doFkv_rkV-PAIRkV6KC5JEKBNfQL7cWlJWBgcnPs-j8oF-xYoc4IJLKR4zd-_BGFJxJCepeypEwj9eWNUMBpfJTGx49Q0FUwQ/s1600/023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcAWjFAiYdjBlXafVRqjACkFQskCmeETzeSRAj6doFkv_rkV-PAIRkV6KC5JEKBNfQL7cWlJWBgcnPs-j8oF-xYoc4IJLKR4zd-_BGFJxJCepeypEwj9eWNUMBpfJTGx49Q0FUwQ/s320/023.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Four circular saws, three drills, two brad nailers, and a partridge in a pear tree.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Can't forget all the stuff in the back office, which is still torn up 3 years after <a href="http://dozersblog.wordpress.com/2009/04/22/daddys-danjerus-office-now-200-more-danjerus/" target="_blank">we started remodeling it</a>, in part because we can't put it back together when it's being used as a storage room for construction items.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsqbm-OZiHsKT5QqSU6I1XyqwA2pK3jzLYf-tJ7j-D1khxxqpgTzIYX2U1BRSn1k5-b1Rnys0IElJQdmJ4xmjqo6e1Jh9T8fJ0R6XHGasucxDohrr-cPAK6fGrJi9EcEogMIqC9A/s1600/025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsqbm-OZiHsKT5QqSU6I1XyqwA2pK3jzLYf-tJ7j-D1khxxqpgTzIYX2U1BRSn1k5-b1Rnys0IElJQdmJ4xmjqo6e1Jh9T8fJ0R6XHGasucxDohrr-cPAK6fGrJi9EcEogMIqC9A/s320/025.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh yeah, and don't forget all the stuff in the garden shed...</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_nK-NL6weu82ZrKe5iRwg4x75PuPRGgXUvY5d3RitodjHDkfoBf6Ji0t8-mzPpi7gNhT12W7b3aGLJcg4YZgeHDdaBNUTYY2MaH5sejH1pspz4-coigONQ9Ian6gUyAAxqwD4A/s1600/027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_nK-NL6weu82ZrKe5iRwg4x75PuPRGgXUvY5d3RitodjHDkfoBf6Ji0t8-mzPpi7gNhT12W7b3aGLJcg4YZgeHDdaBNUTYY2MaH5sejH1pspz4-coigONQ9Ian6gUyAAxqwD4A/s320/027.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 5-gal buckets on the right were FULL of random items, from screwdrivers to PVC joints to electrical outlets.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>As we pulled stuff into the garage, we went with a "Clean Sweep" kind of strategy: one spot for "keep," one spot for "sell," and one spot for "toss."<br />
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Then came the hard part... sorting the "keeps." The first day, Byrd reeeallly wanted to keep every little loose screw and nut and washer.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_2uOGoLwlyZbdjTQjzZHn8eL_bvIihEB9NQgbZ4z-rLpTVGhIbw31gy3gbHiR9Gju1djSde_NFFcQ8JQE6PzQvZjoRSWjQroixj3BLXVX-CuX2K278UzKf0K9cUtCRmEfVaqlA/s1600/075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_2uOGoLwlyZbdjTQjzZHn8eL_bvIihEB9NQgbZ4z-rLpTVGhIbw31gy3gbHiR9Gju1djSde_NFFcQ8JQE6PzQvZjoRSWjQroixj3BLXVX-CuX2K278UzKf0K9cUtCRmEfVaqlA/s320/075.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was hard to even know where to start.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX5ImSiv9WF41a09FnZav4N-0pQQ6b5HNt1NVnnZQ0OkHc9WU0JwFUy-lnkIsJyFW1d0xDNpmuPpCumfy8jUitWWoEzuNf86SbgcQI3lBCUKkR_vxjAvXe-7dp37bgbxeiBNdZPw/s1600/067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX5ImSiv9WF41a09FnZav4N-0pQQ6b5HNt1NVnnZQ0OkHc9WU0JwFUy-lnkIsJyFW1d0xDNpmuPpCumfy8jUitWWoEzuNf86SbgcQI3lBCUKkR_vxjAvXe-7dp37bgbxeiBNdZPw/s320/067.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sister K and my mom helped out a lot!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>By the second and third day, Byrd was too tired to care as much. We threw out a lot. The garbage men probably cursed us when they emptied our heavy, overflowing trash cans.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwbU-sIlIBR-03RBYjlx0TyOQ2MBu5iuXKpNQFQ6xdzYWcifsHwkGMyZA31ZPxcJyN9pAMTGDTmXvzGkXWqi_EtNaAWM1H7b4jQvNrWb3021bZyeKxBYksv5ZKHkbR0uXiKLyXkQ/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwbU-sIlIBR-03RBYjlx0TyOQ2MBu5iuXKpNQFQ6xdzYWcifsHwkGMyZA31ZPxcJyN9pAMTGDTmXvzGkXWqi_EtNaAWM1H7b4jQvNrWb3021bZyeKxBYksv5ZKHkbR0uXiKLyXkQ/s320/002.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The shelves are full, but everything has a place.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzvv73Ble2fxFxug88NqsnUue9UQdO7fLugpKlIGyskdPK-jHrwZh1Bd1Cc7uuZL-tDDTNhKEHF0S0OqoZLjMgUS9li3-ZDcrZs7KgrBfZOfhe3KTvs4a7gImVtXQrvKc-rrKsIA/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzvv73Ble2fxFxug88NqsnUue9UQdO7fLugpKlIGyskdPK-jHrwZh1Bd1Cc7uuZL-tDDTNhKEHF0S0OqoZLjMgUS9li3-ZDcrZs7KgrBfZOfhe3KTvs4a7gImVtXQrvKc-rrKsIA/s320/004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The three multi-drawer boxes (hanging on the wall) turned out to be invaluable for sorting the loose tiny items Byrd wanted to keep. And boy did he have a lot. We used ALL of the small size drawers (total = 90)!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFL9vDfprctWESrGBO8qvzNgsfYT0koQxqb3rHL1-_N-AkZuyok044s2LmbS8awRVC8rOYV04KHvEt0GT5ikIq2lu925b1vJ_GEt7VgqieqJ1Mufk3IWGI3_5-ZlIBML9_O1BuWA/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFL9vDfprctWESrGBO8qvzNgsfYT0koQxqb3rHL1-_N-AkZuyok044s2LmbS8awRVC8rOYV04KHvEt0GT5ikIq2lu925b1vJ_GEt7VgqieqJ1Mufk3IWGI3_5-ZlIBML9_O1BuWA/s320/010.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We also got this nice wall-hook system for the opposite wall. Turns out we have 4 extension cords, 2 air hoses, 3 ladders, and 31 long-handled tools (shovels, rakes, etc).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now, if you don't work in construction, you probably don't know (and don't need to know) that most hardware you buy in construction quantities, such as nails and screws, come in flimsy cardboard boxes. Cardboard is really not a problem normally because you use up the hardware quickly and then go get new boxes. If you are like Byrd, however, you're not organized enough to know where your box of nails is, so you go out and buy a new box of nails for every project. When you attempt to organize, you discover you have six half-empty, rotting, torn cardboard boxes with nails falling out of every rat-chewed corner. In some cases the nails aren't so much "in a box" as they are "in a pile, with some bits of cardboard for company."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So I went and bought about 30 plastic boxes to hold the hardware. And labeled every box, so there won't be anymore "I can't find it so let's just buy a new one." There is no longer any question how much we have, and of what.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQCK8fGlQQvQRIrBxFJJSVjh7B7yME2FfN4BNPDCjn1zpwSIVV0yPyiooFvhPevPCns9VrtMHUGFzzQL2yvD-8LQ6jiD0kuA1vlzikDBf0oTB1YBbNH7FiZWZlIxPj313oSsa8g/s1600/009.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQCK8fGlQQvQRIrBxFJJSVjh7B7yME2FfN4BNPDCjn1zpwSIVV0yPyiooFvhPevPCns9VrtMHUGFzzQL2yvD-8LQ6jiD0kuA1vlzikDBf0oTB1YBbNH7FiZWZlIxPj313oSsa8g/s320/009.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>I love the end result, which is a garage where both our cars still fit.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7arVqVoCzWzCkhOSTrPPltWc9BMgS8sq9NtfQSO5eDJg0S79TOzAkls6DkmygJeVwA7BXWV0-E4zty8PXnd_yLLivAshToaycj6eSvYlKFEpacDThIW4pTBI3ngUXpXh0HTiXoQ/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7arVqVoCzWzCkhOSTrPPltWc9BMgS8sq9NtfQSO5eDJg0S79TOzAkls6DkmygJeVwA7BXWV0-E4zty8PXnd_yLLivAshToaycj6eSvYlKFEpacDThIW4pTBI3ngUXpXh0HTiXoQ/s320/011.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unfortunately, we still have a storage unit to clean out. It's about the size of the garage. (I'm hopeful that we will be able to sell most of the stuff in it.)<br />
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Lest you fear that all my dogs got for Christmas was a <a href="http://happypitbull.blogspot.com/2011/12/merry-christmas.html" target="_blank">stupid cardboard box</a>, don't worry! Auntie K came through with a literal feast of squeaky stuffed dog toys.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmqbDxM926yvaCHzGB0uqxWlUIzDM0dZtntrBfwnOEkeokkWbLhFj1iEE6PmJewOUd3ddbk8fohXGRcdVsBiLJi_PARUtNVkG9BD06w_uBfDngbDK-YlLcqaJtXKTf7xoUuxa1A/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmqbDxM926yvaCHzGB0uqxWlUIzDM0dZtntrBfwnOEkeokkWbLhFj1iEE6PmJewOUd3ddbk8fohXGRcdVsBiLJi_PARUtNVkG9BD06w_uBfDngbDK-YlLcqaJtXKTf7xoUuxa1A/s320/001.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Stuffed" turkey, potato, corn, dinner roll, and greens.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHqXewnJ7hyphenhyphenx2FW5S6TIy2eS0oVBWcPvA-BVrjZ6VsdTfaMewaGgqoJ6f05xFIz0GsUNupRo4FCXBvxxiX6xVTmVnI869Ro5tWWhZ0VK8ko9crWAJMzQS7gCiKFxIPb_jccXlQQ/s1600/019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHqXewnJ7hyphenhyphenx2FW5S6TIy2eS0oVBWcPvA-BVrjZ6VsdTfaMewaGgqoJ6f05xFIz0GsUNupRo4FCXBvxxiX6xVTmVnI869Ro5tWWhZ0VK8ko9crWAJMzQS7gCiKFxIPb_jccXlQQ/s320/019.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Star shows off her own fat little "drumsticks."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>(By the way, Star had her annual checkup yesterday, and got a totally clean bill of health. I was like, what, that's it? No medicine, nothing to keep an eye on, nothing to treat?? She's just completely different from Dozer... so <em>easy</em>.)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSo6d4u0wgskWJZbLMuHn3Tb3HSutbWydSl-yYynUuUlFuHD5qLnfQD4-q_RrP1_UqH-vE8PgKYb-HczHBIkjTsI9K5Pu0LNK_nyjF-bU-JmwOvrrz6UHEXwQuw4avS2ou5gwWrw/s1600/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSo6d4u0wgskWJZbLMuHn3Tb3HSutbWydSl-yYynUuUlFuHD5qLnfQD4-q_RrP1_UqH-vE8PgKYb-HczHBIkjTsI9K5Pu0LNK_nyjF-bU-JmwOvrrz6UHEXwQuw4avS2ou5gwWrw/s320/012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The corn-on-the-cob seems overcooked."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Whereas the other stuffed items went to the trash within twenty minutes, Dozer took a strange liking to the dinner roll and has refused to destroy it.<br />
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This was our Christmas gift to the outdoor birds: a birdfeeder!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7on-rBCh0fRTSarOL5s5CGGOLRVHWVex4ju6hXN4zPsaU6HPi9U4CO1j6NcGB4NqsKmpQ8WzOf305_AMZ_rhlAOgeBNcjHZKO4MY0qa6rmWzmD_MSLTAlxIZ0mHiV3aIPs72NCw/s1600/008small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7on-rBCh0fRTSarOL5s5CGGOLRVHWVex4ju6hXN4zPsaU6HPi9U4CO1j6NcGB4NqsKmpQ8WzOf305_AMZ_rhlAOgeBNcjHZKO4MY0qa6rmWzmD_MSLTAlxIZ0mHiV3aIPs72NCw/s320/008small.jpg" width="284" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Apparently, this type of birdfeeder is not typical in our neighborhood. If it was, I would expect the birds to start using it easily. But it actually was very difficult for the birds to figure out. On the first day, the birds were just hopping on the ground underneath it and staring up at it. By the second day, they would fly into it and beat at it, trying to knock the seed out. Finally, a few of them tried to sit on the ledges, but they had a lot of trouble coordinating it, and three or four birds would try to get on one ledge at the same time, which always started a big fight.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It took about three days for them to get a system in place so everyone was using the feeder in an organized way. It was very interesting to watch them adapt. I suppose a birdfeeder is a pretty unnatural way for birds to eat, especially when they've never done it before.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-72609968640480315382011-12-25T12:54:00.001-06:002011-12-25T12:55:40.362-06:00Merry Christmas!The dogs' Christmas gift was cheap this year, but they loved it anyway. :)<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/XEuIRXq4sYU?fs=1" width="459"></iframe><br />
<br />
Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-80277317716191172722011-12-12T19:22:00.000-06:002011-12-12T19:22:21.424-06:00"Super-hive" mystery solvedFINALLY! I know what's causing Dozer's insane hive outbreaks.<br />
<br />
Two weeks ago, I took Dozer to the regular vet to treat staph lesions that were popping up here and there. The weekly baths and occasional Zyrtec just weren't cutting it. The vet prescribed a standard round of prednisone (to stop the itch) and cephalexin (to stop the staph).<br />
<br />
Today, as soon as I saw the telltale pinpricks of oncoming <a href="http://happypitbull.blogspot.com/2011/06/urticarial-vasculitis.html">urticarial vasculitis,</a> ("super hives") I called the dermatology/allergy vet. (Well, first I screamed "NOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo!!!" and <em>then</em> I called the vet.)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4HYwDVsJeua2Nu55gtoe0LCYzb3f5jYyWVJprA-M5J3Htmm7Xr1zxZwNo_Ler0aO1JRGnSWiAM9-X0qh3OBY-2-4iqz0bgCZsc32gLW60ipkG1babI3cug1Zqy22tvQck6Wpw1Q/s1600/IMG_3081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4HYwDVsJeua2Nu55gtoe0LCYzb3f5jYyWVJprA-M5J3Htmm7Xr1zxZwNo_Ler0aO1JRGnSWiAM9-X0qh3OBY-2-4iqz0bgCZsc32gLW60ipkG1babI3cug1Zqy22tvQck6Wpw1Q/s320/IMG_3081.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What urticarial vasculitis looks like in the first few hours.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>After looking back through his files, the derm vet confirmed what we'd already suspected but now seemed pretty conclusive: cephalexin allergy.<br />
<br />
Ironically, today, after I reviewed some historical blog posts about Dozer's hives (like <a href="http://dozersblog.wordpress.com/2009/12/31/happy-noo-yeer-and-my-semi-retyrmint/" target="_blank">this one</a> in 2009, <a href="http://happypitbull.blogspot.com/2010/11/hives-and-staph-and-allergies-oh-my.html">this one</a> in 2010 and <a href="http://happypitbull.blogspot.com/2011/05/but-its-dozer-were-talking-about.html">this one</a> earlier this year), I saw that he'd been taking cephalexin, an antibiotic, in <em>every case</em>.<br />
<br />
Why wasn't the allergy deduced years ago? Because the hives never happened at the beginning of a cephalexin course—only at or near the end. Dozer could go two weeks on cephalexin and completely finish the course without a reaction, only to break out in hives a few days later, while taking no medications at all.<br />
<br />
This mystery was also solved today, because the derm vet noted that Dozer usually gets prednisone or a cortisone shot at the same time that he's given the cephalexin. Although the point of the steroid is to cut down the itching from the staph, these steroids stop all allergic reactions. Period. <em>Including the reaction to the cephalexin.</em> After the short steroid course tapers down, there's nothing stopping the hives anymore. Thus the delayed reaction.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXO_pzq8waj_CsO8z4d-F1gruOhMIzzq3xFVci-fgFMeIb65AmOMqDFLBs2oHyrZRKAmwk3558g90RPc69_DTkQoLqLLMTbtzHuv2To2Te_BYRqfBVre4NYl68s9WSMnhtkKNFzQ/s1600/IMG_3083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXO_pzq8waj_CsO8z4d-F1gruOhMIzzq3xFVci-fgFMeIb65AmOMqDFLBs2oHyrZRKAmwk3558g90RPc69_DTkQoLqLLMTbtzHuv2To2Te_BYRqfBVre4NYl68s9WSMnhtkKNFzQ/s320/IMG_3083.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Six hours later--not looking too bad this time!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Prednisone and a much larger dose of Zyrtec were the order of the day. I'm loving the Zyrtec (over the Benadryl we used to give) because it knocks Dozer right out. I know the D is loving it, too, because he goes right to sleep. No itching, whining, panting, tummy upset, or any discomfort.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6js-Ib6R_LWoA-1RxvUu23cZ2hfaQeP89hYWWToyUoL5XzHu5lG1h2_1ST01LejpOOxPTpTEWEGSdED0bhCOIX1grq6lq7PrPCKVDqZPkllETm3zBJGi4inwJLNp22yev-mpsg/s1600/IMG_3077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6js-Ib6R_LWoA-1RxvUu23cZ2hfaQeP89hYWWToyUoL5XzHu5lG1h2_1ST01LejpOOxPTpTEWEGSdED0bhCOIX1grq6lq7PrPCKVDqZPkllETm3zBJGi4inwJLNp22yev-mpsg/s320/IMG_3077.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleeping soundly... with his face inches from the space heater.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Well, as they say, hindsight is 20/20.<br />
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First thing tomorrow morning, I'm calling the regular vet to ask them to flag this allergy in his file. No more cephalexin!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-56955015840392948962011-12-12T08:28:00.002-06:002011-12-12T08:28:00.279-06:00It's Cold!Well, cold for us, anyway. I reckon you northern folks have something to say about <em>real</em> cold.<br />
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But still, it's cold. Star recently learned how to cover herself up with the dog blankets...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nhsGE5ESmNCD2kSrIMsocI0CI8S-G_iYMxq9HK26-PAiVjR0AVVR6M5hBhH_5oNHMWTOxf1GUd_-J7wvMblmGiLUwx79PZ5uMzO-pN0eK9dc3uo5BZht-AC-aDIaG6ufYn01XQ/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nhsGE5ESmNCD2kSrIMsocI0CI8S-G_iYMxq9HK26-PAiVjR0AVVR6M5hBhH_5oNHMWTOxf1GUd_-J7wvMblmGiLUwx79PZ5uMzO-pN0eK9dc3uo5BZht-AC-aDIaG6ufYn01XQ/s320/008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
And we broke out the space heater, much to Dozer's pleasure.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrUP4rkhI1_c5YwApia20kDl5X4JKkRyQdamF24ZRVIkKdIY1qpYpdSRCgM1KEUxQ2kIKn44tbcUF5584urypouUU2frISJtuusvHSRRtSioY1C-Ml7QU1geFoxYi_v5cut1h3bg/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrUP4rkhI1_c5YwApia20kDl5X4JKkRyQdamF24ZRVIkKdIY1qpYpdSRCgM1KEUxQ2kIKn44tbcUF5584urypouUU2frISJtuusvHSRRtSioY1C-Ml7QU1geFoxYi_v5cut1h3bg/s320/018.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Star has been somewhat unsure of the space heater (it makes noise, moves, and blows—creepy!) but she's learning to love the free heat that comes from it. As long as she doesn't have to look right at it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1Vfb9a3dh5L3yh_W7kEY1RFRGPBCmmIZpkqSQkjuXsI4rTFhekOHmD_yiemwxyfKhFX_50CdDPigeAQzmoMPOCA3qfRpKl8APkfbMBa-fcGTP3hXLzWv_BHGhBidl0FdA1IaOg/s1600/033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1Vfb9a3dh5L3yh_W7kEY1RFRGPBCmmIZpkqSQkjuXsI4rTFhekOHmD_yiemwxyfKhFX_50CdDPigeAQzmoMPOCA3qfRpKl8APkfbMBa-fcGTP3hXLzWv_BHGhBidl0FdA1IaOg/s320/033.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Semester finals are over! I have a short, badly-needed break before next semester.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-37375810899403769452011-12-08T18:26:00.000-06:002011-12-08T18:26:28.666-06:00Photo ShootArmed with my trusty tripod and camera, I was determined to get a good family photo for this year's holiday cards.<br />
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First was the setup... Getting everyone in place and figuring out where to put the camera.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4llYt6oE2c5LFMLB4DeJK_8qmFaELrJQwWzAa-03XiickO6_EUs8TCvKdCLVN7JtdcfKD1cQ5hJfRWgAUD1PvWRSTxYeOXZ60J-ML94f3OiI522shh5CLrcShsFf-TsZTIjVaTg/s1600/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4llYt6oE2c5LFMLB4DeJK_8qmFaELrJQwWzAa-03XiickO6_EUs8TCvKdCLVN7JtdcfKD1cQ5hJfRWgAUD1PvWRSTxYeOXZ60J-ML94f3OiI522shh5CLrcShsFf-TsZTIjVaTg/s320/012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Why are we sitting in a corner? Were we bad?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Looks good. Okay, let's see how it goes...<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6WTIzdPKNh5Ze9wFEucg30Gk21mF3Mg7V2u9Db9lNjU68RAZjkmp5715-87WM4guKFHUM8R8IykauUNyvq4h5XCzoFyXCqOM0bXnGprPdTIjh4qN1c1yWsFszW8wIE_DNF9Dsuw/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6WTIzdPKNh5Ze9wFEucg30Gk21mF3Mg7V2u9Db9lNjU68RAZjkmp5715-87WM4guKFHUM8R8IykauUNyvq4h5XCzoFyXCqOM0bXnGprPdTIjh4qN1c1yWsFszW8wIE_DNF9Dsuw/s320/015.JPG" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We appear to be choking the dogs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSiG3F6UkQwM_Zx9WMSdCyvaHlfXP41URFx6O40yhmTWQrbKMIATx8Neg41DxsRhOunnplptdimDJCaar_UMSnD5SrxEyWjzmBAMF_pb1s25BTw2qKvCXm4StUiqmbLwCElHUfqQ/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSiG3F6UkQwM_Zx9WMSdCyvaHlfXP41URFx6O40yhmTWQrbKMIATx8Neg41DxsRhOunnplptdimDJCaar_UMSnD5SrxEyWjzmBAMF_pb1s25BTw2qKvCXm4StUiqmbLwCElHUfqQ/s320/018.JPG" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dozer's totally feeling it, but the rest of us...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr8fQH7MZ2cf0e3lQFw0qUotwKTnDuBCwbs0wcz0WT3IzIltXYX-UlWxEn28qVajIcfTrLFDTBSH46fZzolcWtUwgBHA9CizgrNDRLvjcgM0q4RrRTWUaaEUdcE6xHH1clDRLZOw/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr8fQH7MZ2cf0e3lQFw0qUotwKTnDuBCwbs0wcz0WT3IzIltXYX-UlWxEn28qVajIcfTrLFDTBSH46fZzolcWtUwgBHA9CizgrNDRLvjcgM0q4RrRTWUaaEUdcE6xHH1clDRLZOw/s320/020.JPG" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, man, the dogs were <em>perfect</em> in this picture.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6vz4HTCxqvNfg-EGJYa3uGYxjMwds3oHxAiy2JfQTFm9SnTPIUGT7LRoYByytUj68TWYcOqBu7T-qmZoCd79L2JzXArhzNOlOU3tr5JQeaCu9VOpCkpmpktEOmNu2-XMB8Ku9Q/s1600/025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6vz4HTCxqvNfg-EGJYa3uGYxjMwds3oHxAiy2JfQTFm9SnTPIUGT7LRoYByytUj68TWYcOqBu7T-qmZoCd79L2JzXArhzNOlOU3tr5JQeaCu9VOpCkpmpktEOmNu2-XMB8Ku9Q/s320/025.JPG" width="288" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dozer relocated mid-shot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5hb0TJq0gD-Agk20yYYs_f3BmbXrcrW3Z4A4FQkXChgnAdg3lkrP9ckcSU6kiqmmMQZWfHj27IzP1ZBxJwFgl6kzdob2oTTrYRLOAjzuLQ-kxBuJrN4eoOB0Y2JygcTg2PUEUng/s1600/026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5hb0TJq0gD-Agk20yYYs_f3BmbXrcrW3Z4A4FQkXChgnAdg3lkrP9ckcSU6kiqmmMQZWfHj27IzP1ZBxJwFgl6kzdob2oTTrYRLOAjzuLQ-kxBuJrN4eoOB0Y2JygcTg2PUEUng/s320/026.JPG" width="274" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oops, that wasn't the timer button. Sorry, hang on..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGpMm6P435CMTrTC30MrkLETO5L5sZ8wKX_ERldCVZ_lJdb2CpUAm-M5C5gZrx4q29BqvqHkIlwAnMwiEhCxjDYooHsfNx-zVXYlnGtUsdFQ9L19cx5-cCGq0te-JaMAHiWrbzkQ/s1600/027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGpMm6P435CMTrTC30MrkLETO5L5sZ8wKX_ERldCVZ_lJdb2CpUAm-M5C5gZrx4q29BqvqHkIlwAnMwiEhCxjDYooHsfNx-zVXYlnGtUsdFQ9L19cx5-cCGq0te-JaMAHiWrbzkQ/s320/027.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aaaand Byrd was officially out of patience!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVdYa8cYlanQmmatJWm3vzWw6R0uk5FYgRbGl6lxit12ysUH6yJH8jVmr2qrPvEgLUJgULAbs-UYL_ZMYUBnBgQYLx7GZ3OyAxMabu7rpY_gDgIKwK-VSjXEjWwUec94hfPyHR9Q/s1600/029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVdYa8cYlanQmmatJWm3vzWw6R0uk5FYgRbGl6lxit12ysUH6yJH8jVmr2qrPvEgLUJgULAbs-UYL_ZMYUBnBgQYLx7GZ3OyAxMabu7rpY_gDgIKwK-VSjXEjWwUec94hfPyHR9Q/s320/029.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I did not hear the camera beep.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>And then Star couldn't take it anymore: <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdOQaZl49h-QhRfCvMGM4jFVvgyFhGtFC8GaYIY2wHg-aO_tJssrEzyKYRLfFci_DTPdbjlYNfYpVPoTiVnT_Jjtj1AkK_eXoswVO-zfrPd9e05XFjrJBDf-vd0kpO5trNqQmPQ/s1600/037small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdOQaZl49h-QhRfCvMGM4jFVvgyFhGtFC8GaYIY2wHg-aO_tJssrEzyKYRLfFci_DTPdbjlYNfYpVPoTiVnT_Jjtj1AkK_eXoswVO-zfrPd9e05XFjrJBDf-vd0kpO5trNqQmPQ/s320/037small.jpg" width="279" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcwwc_G3lEyL3Z9hT4T6dvULDZ2AAN5Q9jqtRYejJHevkolKuXenwLaucjlQVLCz1_YzUSjPBBXyDH0j3kqehevYpOWvuHNcPLnTPP_zV0GFKFed3amNC7xvcmG9Dg0EnKsAUNPA/s1600/038small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcwwc_G3lEyL3Z9hT4T6dvULDZ2AAN5Q9jqtRYejJHevkolKuXenwLaucjlQVLCz1_YzUSjPBBXyDH0j3kqehevYpOWvuHNcPLnTPP_zV0GFKFed3amNC7xvcmG9Dg0EnKsAUNPA/s320/038small.jpg" width="260" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"... so ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheFAttDcUAPKu-7E8uGuhnYbqJ-0ItbiPMhNJIhClsL1zN9H1nxX53-xrMQ7WolYK3TuCfRPARrQZeTmK8k7iJTGLRKY4k31eokUjTn8cscjteyy8S-gztuPv7k9leGEvj5E4L2A/s1600/039small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheFAttDcUAPKu-7E8uGuhnYbqJ-0ItbiPMhNJIhClsL1zN9H1nxX53-xrMQ7WolYK3TuCfRPARrQZeTmK8k7iJTGLRKY4k31eokUjTn8cscjteyy8S-gztuPv7k9leGEvj5E4L2A/s320/039small.jpg" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">" ... done."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We couldn't get her to stand up again. Dozer totally <em>gets</em> the whole photo shoot thing—he'll look at the camera and smile and everything—but to Star, this was clearly some insane exercise that we had devised to punish her, and she sure as heck wasn't gonna take it anymore.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, with 39 shots to choose from, I managed to find a decent one.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXE5AkgXR8AtMSEl5zvVf9Rs__gwZ01EKk1k0c2Mq5hE9_pPblw8XrQPDCPg4vS5wJAewGbGL6rRtBFonmCID4A9mwJ68KhzHCtN7s1-cU31jIAg-Dgu6stCtasQuGhqpUJeYhg/s1600/035smaller.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXE5AkgXR8AtMSEl5zvVf9Rs__gwZ01EKk1k0c2Mq5hE9_pPblw8XrQPDCPg4vS5wJAewGbGL6rRtBFonmCID4A9mwJ68KhzHCtN7s1-cU31jIAg-Dgu6stCtasQuGhqpUJeYhg/s320/035smaller.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
About halfway through the photo shoot, I learned that my camera has a self-timer multi-shot function. Omigosh! It really sped up the whole process. What a life saver!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-81083967912278601082011-11-22T17:25:00.001-06:002011-11-23T09:24:29.610-06:00Happy Birthday and Thanksgiving!Thanksgiving is approximately Dozer's birthday. This year, he turns 11.<br />
<br />
While I was at the pet store this week buying dog food, I decided to get a few new toys in honor of Dozer's birthday and also to replace the toys I've recently thrown out after they reached the end of their useful life.<br />
<br />
Tough dog toys are necessary, but expensive, investments for two large dogs. I really hate plopping down $10 on a toy that claims to be tough but falls apart within the first two minutes of use. If I pay more than that, I expect the toy to last for several months. So I tend to buy dog toys rarely, and carefully.<br />
<br />
I was really excited to see a lot of new "tough" dog toys on the shelves these days. One in particular caught my eye: Starmark's new Fun Ball. Starmark is also the maker of Dozer's beloved "Blue Toy." They are both made with the same soft, yet tough, rubber-gel. And you can put food or treats in both. But, whereas the Blue Toy is cylindrical, the Fun Ball is round and definitely more Dozer's style.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4q4ytIVAoPDHhJhSDYlAxJHWlzmpeoqDm54phMtRNwJGPMY5sdiBrmn0emunyPgnTSt9Gn3UfodEEPVMDB0N9a2jTDur_E_fpWDhcihtxalAxeLdJr4E1J_49GF5_H4_fvemMJA/s1600/009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4q4ytIVAoPDHhJhSDYlAxJHWlzmpeoqDm54phMtRNwJGPMY5sdiBrmn0emunyPgnTSt9Gn3UfodEEPVMDB0N9a2jTDur_E_fpWDhcihtxalAxeLdJr4E1J_49GF5_H4_fvemMJA/s320/009.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I love it for its ball-like qualities, not for the boring old dog food inside."</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6iQkASfLMrBh8mlrfTd2F52c7zz12g71obmqcHtKPhlF0Bp29Gfc2bqd2AY_8t1MFqjS00_57N095GoIDLM1ui7AKTzf8XEZ149c6TkRiWsPgay_y9lwxdDlrlUKPKqv5WiUP4A/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6iQkASfLMrBh8mlrfTd2F52c7zz12g71obmqcHtKPhlF0Bp29Gfc2bqd2AY_8t1MFqjS00_57N095GoIDLM1ui7AKTzf8XEZ149c6TkRiWsPgay_y9lwxdDlrlUKPKqv5WiUP4A/s320/008.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mooom! Llama Pinata is in my waaaay!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I also bought two stuffed squeaky toys. One was a Yankers snake. You may or may not remember Dozer's old <a href="http://dozersblog.files.wordpress.com/2008/09/dozeralligator.jpg">Yankers alligator toy</a>, which withstood quite a lot of abuse and lasted for almost a year. The other toy is a Tuffy's bone. We have had a variety of Tuffy's toys, such as <a href="http://dozersblog.files.wordpress.com/2010/07/2010-jul-14-019smaller.jpg">Ring Toy</a>, <a href="http://dozersblog.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/dsc00783.jpg">Octopus</a>, and <a href="http://dozersblog.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/1-24-09-dozer-and-torn-tug-toy.jpg?w=468&h=351">Tug Toy</a>—some of them lasting longer than others.<br />
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I handed out the new toys to Dozer one at a time. He kept coming back to me empty-handed. Finally I asked him, "Where are the toys?" He led me into the living room, where I suddenly realized poor old Dozer was no longer "top dog" in the house:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF7qmqV6FM_w7AVedjvX_m48CeQkPMZCXQWTCssHHxCOqNcT1ZhMG7DioyRL6EJAf7WM1Nq93xEty_VY_vlS55VR3pgUTa0OpbJHkXST1pzkOTAm78nwKPIcjnKaldnBtL1UW4pg/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF7qmqV6FM_w7AVedjvX_m48CeQkPMZCXQWTCssHHxCOqNcT1ZhMG7DioyRL6EJAf7WM1Nq93xEty_VY_vlS55VR3pgUTa0OpbJHkXST1pzkOTAm78nwKPIcjnKaldnBtL1UW4pg/s320/016.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Eh? They're not all for me?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Even one year ago, Dozer wouldn't have stood for this. The toys in the house have always been <i>his</i>. Period. Star was allowed to borrow them on occasion, but Dozer controlled when and where and how she got to touch them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPye_0nHDjiLpLcyzTZFEc99HdOJklGwMzWuEoO9NmNHIpTv84PbB5qxwyDcMboVv2rVGhuL12gQXhVB3jK1Lns1EtDOkcfJT3Rfs5PGFLzZDr6yQPP1ob_h7BQrSkhgXW7nzXqQ/s1600/023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPye_0nHDjiLpLcyzTZFEc99HdOJklGwMzWuEoO9NmNHIpTv84PbB5qxwyDcMboVv2rVGhuL12gQXhVB3jK1Lns1EtDOkcfJT3Rfs5PGFLzZDr6yQPP1ob_h7BQrSkhgXW7nzXqQ/s320/023.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I don't get it. Earlier, there was food coming out when I did this."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Times, they are a-changing. Happy birthday, Dozer!<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>And Happy Thanksgiving to you all!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd0sMx3qH3v-xyYGu64gUfV55oYiqyRu5sxMPG-Q38Q9-Cudx1Z5Wx4JPzoIyXYl0Y7glHU2KvFx4Zrrm34D1jNqFYPy43FHytw7UDFe-onFFI97Xmuao6wdG-aGb9Dy5pTpkN5g/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd0sMx3qH3v-xyYGu64gUfV55oYiqyRu5sxMPG-Q38Q9-Cudx1Z5Wx4JPzoIyXYl0Y7glHU2KvFx4Zrrm34D1jNqFYPy43FHytw7UDFe-onFFI97Xmuao6wdG-aGb9Dy5pTpkN5g/s320/005.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-10595757873641561352011-11-12T11:07:00.001-06:002011-11-12T11:08:42.466-06:00Blind snakeWe had a visitor the other day: a blind snake. He/she was enjoying some spilled water (or dog drool?).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6H-3CTwmyz7wO6DqPoo1_HRcQ0t6z7o18WDTVAPTMKEwUosZxIaYVLitNysrOJ7Ig9yCpWt8H4pOVl4LdUC-wTl-g_4ZG5Oqar9QS1YckA2tgVU0kVvgjkX-8ySH5_oT3jdiIyw/s1600/049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6H-3CTwmyz7wO6DqPoo1_HRcQ0t6z7o18WDTVAPTMKEwUosZxIaYVLitNysrOJ7Ig9yCpWt8H4pOVl4LdUC-wTl-g_4ZG5Oqar9QS1YckA2tgVU0kVvgjkX-8ySH5_oT3jdiIyw/s320/049.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjWOeUue3ZnErz2PE28PYgEvJnieBItMNt11y0uvHe0yAkO3ZtfA-YyGQJvzQ6Y1nEDkuvbYbaHet-TQIkJuFEGqdbVs9oJU163QRFMLu6X6kGx-b3jIEuqSrrqiVdheIgTyJeg/s1600/051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjWOeUue3ZnErz2PE28PYgEvJnieBItMNt11y0uvHe0yAkO3ZtfA-YyGQJvzQ6Y1nEDkuvbYbaHet-TQIkJuFEGqdbVs9oJU163QRFMLu6X6kGx-b3jIEuqSrrqiVdheIgTyJeg/s320/051.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Blind snakes are tiny snakes that look like earthworms. They eat ants and other little insects. We see them outside in our garden mulch most of the time, but once in a while they get in the house. Because they're so tiny, they're really difficult to catch without squishing them. But I got this one outside without incident.<br />
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We finally have cold weather, but no real rain to speak of.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLJsyZgLR56s6TKVzP5HeE_Zpbi863RUW6IEbUyxiNzJ98Y4y2hP3aZOQYZx8KqKyRecdsN2KGwEgzT2Lf_wuE29Nmbl0aNcJjC2skEtfrrFkPtWI1kDnnorIffZtnUxI7lu3zCg/s1600/045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLJsyZgLR56s6TKVzP5HeE_Zpbi863RUW6IEbUyxiNzJ98Y4y2hP3aZOQYZx8KqKyRecdsN2KGwEgzT2Lf_wuE29Nmbl0aNcJjC2skEtfrrFkPtWI1kDnnorIffZtnUxI7lu3zCg/s320/045.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Star in coat, under blanket. Space heater not shown.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Dozer's thyroid levels are still low ("for a dog of his size" says the vet), so we are going to raise the dose. But you can see that the thyroid meds have given him a bit of zing back. OMG, he's playing with Star!<br />
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I've just signed a contract to work for a "Big Four" firm when I graduate. Byrd and I are both pretty excited that I'm finally going to be a financial asset. Sadly, it looks like I'll have to stop fostering and volunteering for a few years, because I'm never home anymore, and it only gets worse at Big Four.<br />
<br />
I'm also going to need to find some help for the daily updates and duties over at StopBSL. Giving it up is out of the question. But I've been late to class a few times while slamming out alerts, and I really should be focusing on studying, not worrying about updates. What a dilemma.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-9808877833449028912011-10-08T12:10:00.000-05:002011-10-08T12:10:08.768-05:00HypothyroidismGuess whose thyroid is broken?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkSCXkDoGvGeZD23l5hAoiqmthmVNfOJt5WDcPyQzGvsTMthn_eDEvjO1QqT1PA2IOl2eR2xA5MpmtOxtNY40ldbNvnfPTKO4jrgbaXj209AfVnIPJI28Ca0zfC85iEBwbJ2oTQ/s1600/IMG_2906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkSCXkDoGvGeZD23l5hAoiqmthmVNfOJt5WDcPyQzGvsTMthn_eDEvjO1QqT1PA2IOl2eR2xA5MpmtOxtNY40ldbNvnfPTKO4jrgbaXj209AfVnIPJI28Ca0zfC85iEBwbJ2oTQ/s320/IMG_2906.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Let's play with this half-eaten tennis ball!!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Routine bloodwork revealed this new ailment, which we can add to Dozer's ever-growing pile of health issues. The symptoms of hypothyroidism aren't particularly obvious: generally acting "under the weather," easily tired, weight gain, hair loss and skin infections. Dozer's old age and allergies produce the same symptoms, so we weren't thinking about the thyroid.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDMMX2nDQwdIgQr2BpsFDCnkjZw3UQXcnxJQbBaOuFUC70ZIPi3ft7ysiidDvM6SkacHwPsg8F3qwP_hT9A39o4dZUCiqyWYig9A2vgHaEPF0QkvehRMnw_ugI029PsZLUb-yCAw/s1600/IMG_2920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDMMX2nDQwdIgQr2BpsFDCnkjZw3UQXcnxJQbBaOuFUC70ZIPi3ft7ysiidDvM6SkacHwPsg8F3qwP_hT9A39o4dZUCiqyWYig9A2vgHaEPF0QkvehRMnw_ugI029PsZLUb-yCAw/s320/IMG_2920.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"OMG THROW IT!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The solution is a simple one—one tiny pill every twelve hours for the rest of D's life—but it's amazing how difficult this seemingly simple task is. Mostly, we've had trouble being home at pill time. Right now we're administering pills at 6 AM and 6 PM, but because I've been at class and job-recruiting events on many days, and Byrd works until late, the 6 PM target isn't always hit.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaGwzizcCJ81KPdMQr9WqkDd1QCkL0zyAQyjnYHV9C_YOel6MDPWG77HEd2MHvPuUJr8aIqLku7AZX2v0WBjx5NUNFrIsW2_Z_dqDq9e3yK5GxHhDtWAxn4UWe4CX2iAAQ7oJGQ/s1600/IMG_2917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaGwzizcCJ81KPdMQr9WqkDd1QCkL0zyAQyjnYHV9C_YOel6MDPWG77HEd2MHvPuUJr8aIqLku7AZX2v0WBjx5NUNFrIsW2_Z_dqDq9e3yK5GxHhDtWAxn4UWe4CX2iAAQ7oJGQ/s320/IMG_2917.JPG" width="289" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I believe I can fly!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The treatment has made a difference. Dozer seems to have regained some of his goofy spirit, he's more interested in getting attention and pats, and he's even playing a bit with Star. All his joints still creak when he moves around, but he seems less "old."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg87BV5Z7dZ2igGcaELe53qaGi2HHoZVZUhsggqrppo2VaDEbXfVby9uqTOl-N2t6GNMrLgaG66FDHOLuo9Wvn5TTODNTlYvbeN8izCEFWOmoAbuYwmz4kigZbXY14Xy8eaQwRMYw/s1600/IMG_2930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg87BV5Z7dZ2igGcaELe53qaGi2HHoZVZUhsggqrppo2VaDEbXfVby9uqTOl-N2t6GNMrLgaG66FDHOLuo9Wvn5TTODNTlYvbeN8izCEFWOmoAbuYwmz4kigZbXY14Xy8eaQwRMYw/s320/IMG_2930.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Here it comes again!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Ironically, Dozer isn't the first family member with hypothyroidism. Byrd couldn't help but be a tiny bit pleased that Big D was taking after his daddy. "Now we <em>both</em> have to take pills forever!" he says.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_q-XeMx7U2pIP6V5H68gTrI0eyuT6SGYum3AG52dztNvxoQwGSeJbTrc81v_eQfDf4exBLN4pdb6Dc-Up4zyJ-jUSujj4i-AtTULp3cxAdSC_0dtnz-Bhyphenhyphen8PbHhwQ3_gPqUAvCQ/s1600/IMG_2914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_q-XeMx7U2pIP6V5H68gTrI0eyuT6SGYum3AG52dztNvxoQwGSeJbTrc81v_eQfDf4exBLN4pdb6Dc-Up4zyJ-jUSujj4i-AtTULp3cxAdSC_0dtnz-Bhyphenhyphen8PbHhwQ3_gPqUAvCQ/s320/IMG_2914.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Ugh, now it has <em>her</em> drool all over it."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Doesn't our backyard look depressing? It's 100% dirt. We were responsible citizens during this severe drought and we didn't water our backyard grass at all... so it died. Nevertheless, we've just heard that our local water plant has broken, so the city has issued a formal emergency: no outdoor watering, period.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-73250278747811588062011-09-22T15:06:00.001-05:002011-09-22T15:06:59.812-05:00Roast Dog Recipe<strong>Ingredients:</strong><br />
2 lazy indoor dogs<br />
1 yard of dirt<br />
1 bowl water<br />
1 sun<br />
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Set outdoor temperature to 100+ degrees. Use full sun for even roast.<br />
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<strong>Steps:</strong><br />
1. Place dogs and water in dirt. Dogs may run at first. Lazier dogs will settle faster.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFIdXygW6sLSDTSVG4oGwbKR0RX7jymVQmj3T6eH2Y_l43VWAxNOcmQt8aY3qkCzqR0081hfK80WeLAOYAOBPLR0mt2-UNz2qmIKahADvAN7Px8h-5Ia3Q-tf03fwfYbBiD7wxw/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFIdXygW6sLSDTSVG4oGwbKR0RX7jymVQmj3T6eH2Y_l43VWAxNOcmQt8aY3qkCzqR0081hfK80WeLAOYAOBPLR0mt2-UNz2qmIKahADvAN7Px8h-5Ia3Q-tf03fwfYbBiD7wxw/s320/003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
2. When dogs have settled, set timer for 15 minutes. Check on dogs every 2 minutes, or leave door partly open.<br />
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3. Dogs will turn themselves over and will apply water as needed.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9DuIzSfzMDqvAYQ4Uwg6g6z4Wcd_JybmV8WGvYd3I2dXe1bESs340kzgkUAxwAOAReq_CbrbKyfuvpl-9Qtz-1WHKLkNmZknx7wCZKjh6VKI5ZXK7HZpkDJI5SC6Vz_3BXIDtg/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9DuIzSfzMDqvAYQ4Uwg6g6z4Wcd_JybmV8WGvYd3I2dXe1bESs340kzgkUAxwAOAReq_CbrbKyfuvpl-9Qtz-1WHKLkNmZknx7wCZKjh6VKI5ZXK7HZpkDJI5SC6Vz_3BXIDtg/s320/005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
4. If dog begins to whine or bark, check for doneness. Older dogs may be done sooner. <strong>How to test for doneness</strong>. Your roast dog is done if: voluntarily comes to back door; has a sweaty animal odor; is hot to touch; tongue hangs out.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPse9JNgbXzFI2iEatUTaB61-9wiHWIbXoDDRC6BEVgPLusG20FJPeWx4VXr4a64HJfR2_qmuVZkSC-JeNyUOJPvUlPO0bC9N1yBUciyd-IHemU5mOcFflyh5eORz01x2BkZyZ8Q/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPse9JNgbXzFI2iEatUTaB61-9wiHWIbXoDDRC6BEVgPLusG20FJPeWx4VXr4a64HJfR2_qmuVZkSC-JeNyUOJPvUlPO0bC9N1yBUciyd-IHemU5mOcFflyh5eORz01x2BkZyZ8Q/s320/001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
5. Remove roast dog from yard after 15 minutes or when done. DO NOT OVERCOOK.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvaqu6XVZP3Wl5djYaYV82WrNZZ442V7P6ZRMAOMiktfTIkaTg758ZLaRDzmM6JlorL8MrNLHXNW_mf1OpdaqikaXIfT6P9WDhjiXJON33vMEkAjW9OeNK2IzYCWHOiph5rP_4A/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvaqu6XVZP3Wl5djYaYV82WrNZZ442V7P6ZRMAOMiktfTIkaTg758ZLaRDzmM6JlorL8MrNLHXNW_mf1OpdaqikaXIfT6P9WDhjiXJON33vMEkAjW9OeNK2IzYCWHOiph5rP_4A/s200/001.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiqMCiukuisAauCBeTMrGAlbIiufUs6-IjgmOgx0RnB4_AGOUKqcq5dXQIAxDQ3SirAal8V19QrwPybgtG2VpJSD0DYA2Ym6SqBcceTt-2C5RaRqGZLIjLVe1__FG3rAiS0tivw/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiqMCiukuisAauCBeTMrGAlbIiufUs6-IjgmOgx0RnB4_AGOUKqcq5dXQIAxDQ3SirAal8V19QrwPybgtG2VpJSD0DYA2Ym6SqBcceTt-2C5RaRqGZLIjLVe1__FG3rAiS0tivw/s200/010.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><br />
6. Allow roast dog to rest until cool.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihroNrQFG6q-MuFGP7PbRA_w6mAfZ2Uy2h90ICifgUdNl3s90YVcFrJagHyI0GQpdkH1pgxPl8dHTV48llYKken5WxcF43x4fcqY-fkTCjV36yO6-ykGJKD_tSFdXzB5vjgWsc8w/s1600/IMG_2854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihroNrQFG6q-MuFGP7PbRA_w6mAfZ2Uy2h90ICifgUdNl3s90YVcFrJagHyI0GQpdkH1pgxPl8dHTV48llYKken5WxcF43x4fcqY-fkTCjV36yO6-ykGJKD_tSFdXzB5vjgWsc8w/s320/IMG_2854.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-26208066437998909222011-09-12T15:58:00.000-05:002011-09-12T15:58:19.554-05:00Fires in TexasTropical Storm Lee, which came around on Labor Day weekend, knocked down our daily highs and lows by ten degrees. We enjoyed several days with highs in the low 90s. (Ahhh! Lovely!!)<br />
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Star sunbathes in the most grotesque poses. I'm always a little worried that my neighbors will freak out and call animal control about a mutilated dog corpse they saw in my backyard.<br />
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If I see a neighbor come outside, I make a big show of getting Star on her feet. ("Star! Come over here, you happy, healthy, <em>totally alive</em> dog!")<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2u5_y04kAcPlMmd4m3mDIEklI1w3pgrncOJ_0IKc0qqMTBs0RJgH5a4A2mXySv5_xW9muNGFBvrpF3c3d9mQ0Xrv32G4OCyBhdjm0Ywufi_akFI-ogthuoZTp4tDJeNOAHjJL3A/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2u5_y04kAcPlMmd4m3mDIEklI1w3pgrncOJ_0IKc0qqMTBs0RJgH5a4A2mXySv5_xW9muNGFBvrpF3c3d9mQ0Xrv32G4OCyBhdjm0Ywufi_akFI-ogthuoZTp4tDJeNOAHjJL3A/s320/003.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunbathing in the shade... in a really weird way.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>But the weather was quite enjoyable. And then the wildfires started breaking out.<br />
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Mind you, we're no stranger to grass fires and brush fires. I've occasionally joined the community in impromptu fire-stomping on the side of the highway while waiting for fire trucks.<br />
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But it's pretty rare for fires to burn out of control in our area. We've had an unlucky combination of high winds (from Lee) and extreme drought.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikKPf3osUAp1rJy9lLeS1N9J_TUCuyyLe28ZbmlBmQi9xtodPGvq8f8e8vlv_4a8t0bbnqBnqoHmr5fP499ewJhNUgN6jCRK_A_Z3ahDWFbc7ccZLcpX0kpiLMz-4iEZYsByoMtA/s1600/21546-bastrop-a-blackened-sky-e6649.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikKPf3osUAp1rJy9lLeS1N9J_TUCuyyLe28ZbmlBmQi9xtodPGvq8f8e8vlv_4a8t0bbnqBnqoHmr5fP499ewJhNUgN6jCRK_A_Z3ahDWFbc7ccZLcpX0kpiLMz-4iEZYsByoMtA/s320/21546-bastrop-a-blackened-sky-e6649.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of many amazing photos from <a href="http://interactives.kxan.com/photomojo/gallery/974/1/texas-is-burning/bastrop-smoke-fills-the-citys-horizon/">KXAN</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>We've been very fortunate that few human lives have been lost to these fires. The situation for many pets and livestock has not been good. Bastrop is a rural area, and folks tend to keep a lot of animals. Not just cats and dogs, but also horses, donkeys, pigs, chickens, and rabbits. As they evacuated, people took their pets with them whenever possible, but many animals still didn't make it out.<div><br />
</div><div>Some people were not home when the fires started and were left with anguished knowledge that they couldn't go back to their homes for their trapped pets. This event served as a strong reminder for me, that not everyone will be home during an evacuation to save their pets, so it's up to neighbors to help save those pets, if they have the time and ability. It's a good idea to become familiar with neighbors' pets (how many, what kind, and where they're kept) before there's a disaster, in case there's an opportunity to help those pets.<div><div><br />
</div><div>Luckily, the animal community around here is strong, organized, and willing. They've done an amazing job with rescue efforts and communication. Several hundred pets have been rescued, and I hope they will continue to find animal survivors now that residents are being allowed back into these burned areas.</div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-1995663554435351092011-08-30T22:42:00.000-05:002011-08-30T22:42:09.549-05:00Star's Poem<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong>Haiku to My New Pink Best Friend</strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong>by Star</strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My new pink friend plays</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">chase with me but when I win</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">he is a bad sport.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmcfA5iBdmTKndRC1jMW1UP5zUpiLF1U9lr9JdKXrjN3LbByXAE18GKC76krJqYgqbjAZo70oJMZmhltYP1p5LGk6pGLMuXpF2juFN4vpINEjXauGVXB0a5MDBHfZPWXOxU_cbLw/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmcfA5iBdmTKndRC1jMW1UP5zUpiLF1U9lr9JdKXrjN3LbByXAE18GKC76krJqYgqbjAZo70oJMZmhltYP1p5LGk6pGLMuXpF2juFN4vpINEjXauGVXB0a5MDBHfZPWXOxU_cbLw/s320/008.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The loser, being a bad sport (aka dead)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We've broken some temperature records here in the Austin area this summer (74+ days in triple digits, including a temp of 112 a few days ago, which tied the all-time highest temp ever recorded in our area).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The heat is taking a toll not only on us poor humans but also on the local wildlife. Some of the smaller critters, like the Mediterranean House Gecko (pictured above), have managed to slip inside to cool off. And Star is waiting for them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Today's flattened gecko corpse is Number 6 in a pretty steady stream of summertime gecko corpses that I have found in the middle of the bedroom floor.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Star has been busy making friends with them.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_K3ztEKehIriPfI0kBb7-kvw2OF4ReCpjfBAg2fuqF_JyzMSXTF6zN52H8IrZgZRdh0dDPlBeGFqfhzEGr1pVQllf3hYlB06aCD1by1780WIDyZQyjLY5s4WuELBc8zd4Iecpg/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_K3ztEKehIriPfI0kBb7-kvw2OF4ReCpjfBAg2fuqF_JyzMSXTF6zN52H8IrZgZRdh0dDPlBeGFqfhzEGr1pVQllf3hYlB06aCD1by1780WIDyZQyjLY5s4WuELBc8zd4Iecpg/s320/018.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Um... My new best friend isn't moving anymore. Can you please fix it?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Star is friendly to a fault with her gecko friends. She play-bows to the gecko, flops over and wiggles on her side, licks it, and taps it with her paw. Unfortunately, due to the fact that Star is 60 lbs and the gecko is less than an ounce, Star's playful moves make quick work of the gecko.<br />
<br />
After a while, the excitement wears off, and Star lies down beside her mangled friend and nudges it mournfully with her nose. Then she walks off to look for a new friend—preferably one that isn't taking a sudden nap.<br />
<br />
Number Six is in the minority, however. Most of the geckos make it out of the house alive; I do a "gecko sweep" before bed every night and carry outside any live geckos that I find. Often I will ask Star to observe while I carefully scoop up the live lizard and place it outside in a potted plant. I hope that through our modeling of appropriate behaviors, eventually she will realize that geckos do not want to play with her and need to be set free outdoors.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99-WKUj6JIPR8F7KYh7kZRBMDj8IMJ5nzN2LaJUAlOzApVwRIKzlHi-ih6xXsCIpf3FZT4wdinnnh9mO5hvy2-3hZs-0d2aDc-0bqMkNj7rRaXdvaB1Ot6mUw4N0PkTMdLClgHQ/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99-WKUj6JIPR8F7KYh7kZRBMDj8IMJ5nzN2LaJUAlOzApVwRIKzlHi-ih6xXsCIpf3FZT4wdinnnh9mO5hvy2-3hZs-0d2aDc-0bqMkNj7rRaXdvaB1Ot6mUw4N0PkTMdLClgHQ/s320/015.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Being older and wiser, I already have learned to just say no to geckos."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-74759547055978612872011-08-11T11:42:00.000-05:002011-08-11T11:42:33.197-05:00Food shortage woesWe ran out of Dozer's special rabbit-based, grain-free dog food. So did every single local pet store. So did all the online outlets (except a few who still have the tiny bags for jacked-up prices).<br />
<br />
Dozer couldn't be more pleased.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsc6OqjckadkBnnt3F7_EShmpGqGvIlSvb0B6GZSH8xfsce63nc3NMw1cWVOcUN30Rd-PA2KWVGJMBJXdf56j1d4nkoUfaDSs58_6hVEJlvIzm87ukL1vfCqKVrXlTIrfS8QBU3g/s1600/053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsc6OqjckadkBnnt3F7_EShmpGqGvIlSvb0B6GZSH8xfsce63nc3NMw1cWVOcUN30Rd-PA2KWVGJMBJXdf56j1d4nkoUfaDSs58_6hVEJlvIzm87ukL1vfCqKVrXlTIrfS8QBU3g/s320/053.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"That rabbit stuff was gross."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The problem is, apparently, a shortage of rabbits.<br />
<br />
I know what you're thinking, and I thought it too. "How hard can it be to produce rabbits? They practically produce themselves, don't they?"<br />
<br />
We've substituted with another grain-free dog food, but it's not rabbit-based. It only took a few hours for us to regret the substitution.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYA9oM2o4O-ldHQi1NtP9Im8Zeq6NULoiUI2L7sXeMJf0jVKVTLhOgWsJjrJQM6KKwroO3IEAJ_YYzEXitsmW-xVw0nB7un7yWjwNi6z-fOMTYxqTguKNllyhNMNIDPM3-tfpUg/s1600/049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYA9oM2o4O-ldHQi1NtP9Im8Zeq6NULoiUI2L7sXeMJf0jVKVTLhOgWsJjrJQM6KKwroO3IEAJ_YYzEXitsmW-xVw0nB7un7yWjwNi6z-fOMTYxqTguKNllyhNMNIDPM3-tfpUg/s320/049.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Whoo. Who cut the cheese?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Dozer had an upset stomach <em>all night</em>, leading to 8 full hours of no sleep for anyone. Dozer is very good about expressing his feelings to you, whether you want to hear about it or not.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5PaPK8G9pxNV1C8CwqDxRuPV1rBLSn3TNQF8Gya2xkh_wDFGCM1HPh_KhY_EiYoca0GNrYrt-c73w0ch4xXdknabjo4P3TYovHQsGikARKwjb5SLHlMGukHMixx4PabwIGTWohA/s1600/051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5PaPK8G9pxNV1C8CwqDxRuPV1rBLSn3TNQF8Gya2xkh_wDFGCM1HPh_KhY_EiYoca0GNrYrt-c73w0ch4xXdknabjo4P3TYovHQsGikARKwjb5SLHlMGukHMixx4PabwIGTWohA/s320/051.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Man, I'm beat. Eight hours of nonstop whining and farting really takes it out of a guy."</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8b5t9rOeVwy5bNpvl0NaJP0BERklOUlubNRsG4AL3yB6G_FWo2xlkT94XeiuI1vBYTkpytX5iSfGtNtUPZtYP5ktO4E8r37Yd9FhBmelAoilxJ11URwJA_N9guZtoEAq7s5TRQ/s1600/055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8b5t9rOeVwy5bNpvl0NaJP0BERklOUlubNRsG4AL3yB6G_FWo2xlkT94XeiuI1vBYTkpytX5iSfGtNtUPZtYP5ktO4E8r37Yd9FhBmelAoilxJ11URwJA_N9guZtoEAq7s5TRQ/s320/055.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Have fun in class. I've gotta catch some zzzs so I can keep you awake tonight too!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-62403459538594165492011-07-30T00:40:00.002-05:002011-07-30T00:41:33.362-05:00NeglectedSo, yeah, I got accepted to <em>the</em> Masters in Professional Accounting program at the University of Texas. One of the top accounting programs in the U.S. I'm pretty much guaranteed a job upon graduation, as long as I keep my GPA above 3.5.<br />
<br />
It's a really short master's program—I'll be done in about a year. The brevity translates into a brutal pace. This summer's classes are a mere <em>five weeks,</em> crash courses in tax and financial accounting. The grades will be based solely on three major exams in each class.<br />
Five weeks. Six exams. I'm not very good at math, but these numbers spell disaster.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx0nORxMMXCQhhjL3syaaXDZIz9Ff5ayKZDDBXg3-ihk0QUkLvZuvjNN3GNqGsmDWuvAjMMMr93s3wuBlludye8NsA3edIX689srkXKBqkSHiGlx1ApmiDMAEWn212Y9QypGjURw/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx0nORxMMXCQhhjL3syaaXDZIz9Ff5ayKZDDBXg3-ihk0QUkLvZuvjNN3GNqGsmDWuvAjMMMr93s3wuBlludye8NsA3edIX689srkXKBqkSHiGlx1ApmiDMAEWn212Y9QypGjURw/s320/001.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Soooooo bored."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Needless to say, I've been cramming all day, every day.<br />
If I survive these next few weeks, there's only one day of break between summer and fall semesters. No joke, my calendar goes: Saturday–final; Sunday–break; Monday–final; Tuesday–fall class. (Yes, I have a final on a Saturday.)<br />
<br />
I rather feel as if I've just leapt onto the back of a bucking bronco.<br />
<br />
Please forgive me for being rather absent these last few weeks. I'm desperately trying to stay on this horse. I'm neglecting all my friends and family... and even the dogs. It sucks.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VchK0AGtSr8ilAZatM57x27hkYcitBalf4YhVRvVro6ibZoLNNxogMOOuKyDf7w4yOT_0JxzU8sappCpGyjLpC2ybr31oIerw5weDJzxa8ND7_-zPg-jW0pi8tcsqTqnUCxwnA/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VchK0AGtSr8ilAZatM57x27hkYcitBalf4YhVRvVro6ibZoLNNxogMOOuKyDf7w4yOT_0JxzU8sappCpGyjLpC2ybr31oIerw5weDJzxa8ND7_-zPg-jW0pi8tcsqTqnUCxwnA/s320/003.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Too busy to cut my nails? How tragic."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25149175.post-65376917334952784032011-07-11T15:41:00.001-05:002011-07-11T15:42:49.585-05:00Masters of their universeI'm back in school as of today, going for that accounting master's and CPA.<br />
<br />
Summer classes are month-long crash courses on subjects I don't know much about. As you can imagine, when I'm not in class, I'm studying like crazy.<br />
<br />
The dogs are doing their level best to help me. Fail, that is.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtz2YNo50MXCp3wGGroVr7R1p_pu9aFqsrPcUJP6SRVsSdqsZIWgeC8_vRbFAZjYH4p2-rfgf4OV1f_iL0n1-gnrp38PG95iK3RnWDYpvvCO30tgVGT4bXM0JAT-nJH7mfaFq4mQ/s1600/2011+05+26+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtz2YNo50MXCp3wGGroVr7R1p_pu9aFqsrPcUJP6SRVsSdqsZIWgeC8_vRbFAZjYH4p2-rfgf4OV1f_iL0n1-gnrp38PG95iK3RnWDYpvvCO30tgVGT4bXM0JAT-nJH7mfaFq4mQ/s320/2011+05+26+002.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Lady! Drop that book and let us out! Posthaste!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>OK, fine, we'll go outside for a little while.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZT0ZrbHYIifQqNg_BvI9p5m1ZInvXaCepGn0LkPKol3LA7NyOvc72Y1W1Q7uRaMSTEWX8XKsiG1e1Dq1wlwbOqI2hffjKsh5JlkQcSRJflzluW4b58c4h2BhTFap6kYxcvi_53g/s1600/2011+06+06+013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZT0ZrbHYIifQqNg_BvI9p5m1ZInvXaCepGn0LkPKol3LA7NyOvc72Y1W1Q7uRaMSTEWX8XKsiG1e1Dq1wlwbOqI2hffjKsh5JlkQcSRJflzluW4b58c4h2BhTFap6kYxcvi_53g/s320/2011+06+06+013.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"My piercingly shrill whining will continue until you throw my toy."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Go play by yourself. Please. I have to read two textbook chapters <i>a day.</i><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhXQAqaB1Py1Jbhj_hPdtfgiSDN6H5inBTupXnuP1fUS5INv_SElW1s7-UGV85LgAeF89bIVN6Saniqx9agC6KG5Y2cNBn7Hv8xqc4YsiX2g9W3zhNN52aHD14_SitgvvAFboEw/s1600/2011+06+06+028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhXQAqaB1Py1Jbhj_hPdtfgiSDN6H5inBTupXnuP1fUS5INv_SElW1s7-UGV85LgAeF89bIVN6Saniqx9agC6KG5Y2cNBn7Hv8xqc4YsiX2g9W3zhNN52aHD14_SitgvvAFboEw/s320/2011+06+06+028.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is why someday Star will be diagnosed with skin cancer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Okay, dogs! It's like 100 zillion degrees out here, the textbook pages are damp with sweat, and my notepad has spontaneously burst into flames. Can we <i>please </i>go back inside?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL7z9M-eAaNGjjN-zFEe2_6aR7_bz8VF5C_YeAtBoRyySxzjxRcj-g6yFCNWG_MGuhbQC5f7sgg-SKnJ5c9JL5C8UmywEpXrF7FP7r1w38WGRFkCY7VUqCJPnX5i4_ZhAq2uT8mg/s1600/IMG_2763.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL7z9M-eAaNGjjN-zFEe2_6aR7_bz8VF5C_YeAtBoRyySxzjxRcj-g6yFCNWG_MGuhbQC5f7sgg-SKnJ5c9JL5C8UmywEpXrF7FP7r1w38WGRFkCY7VUqCJPnX5i4_ZhAq2uT8mg/s320/IMG_2763.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"'Scuse me, I have to smell your ugly shirt... while you're wearing it."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I'm begging you guys, please go play in another room. I need quiet, I have to study.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgACWhoBy28cTfy64oNOzG5J2MopUXgBuK1omn0kP7Ue_VxU-7S_odFPNPz_CtoQdGp_Mzj762CyKhSYbm5IAiL-uKjXCK-n8XwbTw_zUPv-a-U3s28kvWOzSXg8Web-oxI7RuKGQ/s1600/IMG_2764.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgACWhoBy28cTfy64oNOzG5J2MopUXgBuK1omn0kP7Ue_VxU-7S_odFPNPz_CtoQdGp_Mzj762CyKhSYbm5IAiL-uKjXCK-n8XwbTw_zUPv-a-U3s28kvWOzSXg8Web-oxI7RuKGQ/s320/IMG_2764.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"HAI! I tore up this toy and now I have to PEE!!<br />
Can we go outside?!? BTW, there's toy all over the carpet."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>*sob sob sob*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6