Happy Saturday!
Don’t know or care what the weather was other than hot. I sat outside with the GR for about 15 minutes. I was okay sitting in the shade, but they wanted back in pretty quickly.
They had their final wellness check/vaccines yesterday. At 15.5 weeks Misiu is 32 pounds and Rayleigh is 31 pounds.
Echo is 45 pounds and Ripple was 48. These boys are going to be huge in comparison.
My son took them in because my leg hurts worse than before and I wasn’t walking any more than I had to.
For Misiu, the other ball hasn’t dropped and the vet recommends neutering him. Both will be neutered when the time is right, I have no intention of breeding either of them. It’s in the contract that I won’t, and if I did, their puppies wouldn’t be eligible to be registered with the AKC.
Also, I don’t want two unneutered males in the house. The first time they lift a leg to spray, it’s off to the vet. I don’t want any fighting either.
Misiu had base narrow canines. The breeder said, it would self-correct as he grew, and it has. I’ll still have the vet keep an eye on it as his permanent teeth come in.
I think we can safely say that they are housebroken. Hanging a bell on the back door helped, as both GR will ring it when they want to go outside.
I still have trouble telling them apart if I can’t see their faces. If the light is right, they are different colors, but in most lighting, they look the same. Their faces are different, even if Rayleigh didn’t have a mask. Rayleigh looks so much like Ripple; he has the same expressive face. Misiu has a heavier hippo face that is not so expressive.
We didn’t go to the park today, for which I feel bad. Lucy/Petey dad is getting a knee replacement on Toosday and I wanted to go every morning to see him before the surgery. I worry for him; he has other health issues and even though he has been cleared for the surgery, I’m still worried. He smokes a lot, and he has something wrong with his lungs.
However, my leg is killing me, it hurts worse than before, and I’m trying to stay off of it as much as possible.
I will get an epidural on the 28th and a gel shot on the 31st, I hope both will help.
The pain meds aren’t doing much, and I am getting conflicting info from the doctors.
The PCP told me to take Tylenol for the pain and to cut back on Meloxicam to only 2-3 days a week. The podiatrist told me Tylenol is no good for this pain and to take aspirin and Meloxicam every day.
The cardiologist says to take an aspirin a day. The PCP says to take it every other day.
Tramadol takes the edge off and not much more.
I take everything with food, so no stomach upsets, except for when I take iron pills - every other day. That shit tears my stomach up no matter what.
This getting old shit is getting very old.
I think if I were a horse, some kind person would have already shot me and put me out of my misery.
I don’t remember ever having shake and bake as a kid, or ever actually. I never had hamburger helper until I was out on my own, and that was a mistake I didn’t make again.
I hate to cook now. I’ve gone through phases when I enjoyed it, but not now. My son cooks for himself, and depending on what it is, for me too.
When I was in HS, I used to walk to my aunt’s house and babysit my cousins until she or my uncle got home. I did some cooking for her, nothing much. Usually, chicken in cooking bags that came with seasoning. Once I turned on the oven in the wrong sequence and the door blew open and scared the crap out of me. My aunt laughed and said it happened to her a few times. I was lucky I wasn’t standing in front of it.
Last night I dreamed I was at her house cooking chicken. Not in a bag though, deep frying it in oil.
My mother was there, and I said why are you here, you are dead. She told me she wasn’t dead and why was I telling a lie. I said no, I’m pretty sure you are dead, I was at the funeral. She told me I was imagining things, she never died, and how horrible I was to make up stories that weren’t true.
That would be my mother. You could state a fact and she would argue with you, even though she knew you were telling the truth.
Not to bring up sad stuff, but your cooking story about frilly aprons JtC, well it was lucky they never caught on fire. That is how my paternal grandmother died. She leaned over the stove and her apron caught fire.
To this day, I never leave anything other than cookware on a stove, or near the stove. My mother would sometimes keep a stack of mail on the counter next to the stove, or a dish towel. Nope, not in my house. Nothing is left near the edge of the stove, although mine is electric. I’ve been getting on my son lately because he isn’t turning the pot handles to the side or back. If he walks by and knocks something off and gets burned, he’ll learn. I’d rather he didn’t learn that lesson the hard way. I told him too, when the GR get big enough, they may try to grab a handle and pull something down on themselves.
When I was in HS, boys could take home ec, but girls couldn’t take shop. I wanted to take shop, but that wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t take drums either. My Algebra II teacher wouldn’t even acknowledge the girls in the class. He told us the first day of class that we didn’t belong there, that taking Algebra was wasted on us and helping us would take precious time from the boys in the class who would need it.
I think all of us got As.
Happy Weddinging Boo!
I hope your power comes back soon, Shoe
Pilot, I know you are right that I need to start putting myself first sometimes. I won’t leave the dogs out overnight. I’m afraid the GR would get stolen. At one time, Echo would have gone off with anybody, but since Ripple died, she has gotten a bit aggressive with strangers.
I worry about her escaping the yard, though.
Although, yesterday morning when I went to get my son, I realized I had forgotten to put her leash on her. The last time that happened, she took off through the neighborhood. I don’t know if she didn’t realize it, or I was just lucky, but she jumped right in the truck when I opened the door.
The GR are just about able to get in on their own.
My son offered to walk home the other morning. It’s only 8-9 miles, depending on which way you walk.
The shorter route would be taking the highway. Sure, let’s just walk down a highway at 2-3 am with cars and trucks whizzing past at 70-80 mph. The other way is walking quite a bit on a dark country road with woods on both sides.
He’s protesting, but I’m calling the driving school Moonday. I’m tired of talking about it, tired of nagging, tired of the whole fucking mess.
I just can’t do it anymore, I’m too tired and in too much pain.
From my experience as a pet sitter, most cats do much better with a sitter. Dogs can be iffy. Some handle it fine, others destroy the house. Sometimes if there are multiple dogs, the stress of being alone gets bad and there can be some nasty fights.
I never would have gotten a sitter for Ripple, because I wouldn’t have trusted him not to bite somebody coming in the house with none of us here. Even somebody he knew. I know Echo would not handle being alone very well. She flips out just when we leave her to take my son to irk.
If I could trust her not to pull me on the leash, she would always go with us. But if there is any kind of critter out there, she is going to try to go after it.
Happy Birthday Bailey
Glad the dopefest went well.
It’s after 11, and still catching up to do.
Tomorrow.
Fifty years later, I now have a very limited list of things I can make without using a cookbook, but I do quite well at following a recipe. My kids had a class in middle school that included both Shop and Home Ec. (Don’t remember what it was called, but I thought “Making Things” would have been a good name for it.)