Well, FACEBOOK friends, you know.
Seriously, for whatever reason, many of the people in my circles of friends have THAT ONE ISSUE that they’re totally unable to be rational about.
Like the guy who flips back and forth between “my favorite version of Dungeons and Dragons is 3.5, 4th is too dumbed down” and “I can barely count let alone do any math at all ever”, who happens to have the redeeming trait of being among the top five RPGers I know.
Naturally, I hate this just enough for a minirant.
I never said it was effective for everybody, but there is help available for stupidity and ignorance.
Tattooed before or after the spay? 
Good thing I wasn’t drinking anything when I read that last bit. 
Is pinkeye really that contagious?
Yes, pinkeye really is that contagious. Even putting him on the roof might not be enough of a safeguard.
Pinkeye is so contagious I’m not sure it’s safe to read this thread.
My suggestion is to wrap everything from just above his nostrils up to the hairline in saran wrap, then wash the whole thing down with rubbing alcohol.
Wow. I’m glad I’ve never known anyone who had it! :eek:
After, and I think it’s near the spay scar. I’ve never seen it because I’ve gotten accustomed to having ten fingers and would like to keep it that way.
Just to freak you out more, curlcoat, the first time I had pinkeye when I was eight or nine, I woke up one morning and couldn’t open my eyes because of all the crud seeping out of my eyes. The second time I got it from subbing in a high-school computer class. God, just *thinking *about it is making my eyes itch.
Ah!
You mean you’d wake up one morning and suddenly your eyes were full of crud?? :eek::eek:
That’s generally how conjunctivitis comes on. You might have itchy/tired eyes one day, rub them a bit thinking “Oh, I’ve spent too long on the computer” then the next day your eyes are cemented closed with gunk.
snipped. Wiser words were never spoken. I’m so happy you got your pup back. I’ve been doing rescue for over 10 years. To date, I’ve been able to return 3 pets to their owners. 2 dogs and a bathroom eating Amazon Parrot.
snipped again. We did. I did when I got to work, and our awesome vet not only looked at dog’s ears, he looked at his belly and empty scrotum.
Honestly, that cost is for a collar and tags. Chips are about $30 with my vet. I’m sorry for the confusion. My inside only cats are chipped and have collars with tags that say “$$REWARD$$” “Lost Cat” “phone number”. I’ve never had a vet offer to tattoo any of my pets. It might be a regional thing, its chips and collars here.
If I had the time and fences to keep Dog, I would. He’s not cat aggressive, he seems to like them and wants to play with them. He’s a stranger to the house so all of his playful gambits were met with hissing and puffy tails. I know enough about dogs to be able to see that he had no threatening body language, but he’s still sleeping in the bathroom tonight. Dog is called Dog because I know that I name an animal, the animal becomes mine.
Today I didn’t have anything to do with him so I took him to work and tied him to a tree by the creek and went out to check on him often. Everyone who saw him just lurved him. If we don’t find his people, Dog already has a couple of prospective adoptors.
Dog’s story will end well. I can tell that Dog would be happier going back to his people, but he will have a good home.
Now that Dog has showed what a good dog he is, I’m even madder that he won’t be reunited with his pack.
(for the record, there are ads in the lost and found section of the newspaper and Dog is listed at Animal Control as well as having been described on the local radio station. We do try to reunite pets with families)
That’s good to know.
I may never sleep again…
Background info: I’m currently a weekend commuter (by train, I’m not insane enough to bring a car to Madrid when I don’t need to) and the flat I’m sharing belongs to my agent. No rent, but one of my flatmates is also a coworker, and she’s a talker. She could say my mother’s line “I’m not telling you because I want you to know, I’m telling you because I need to tell someone!”. She keeps a journal of “what I have done today at work” (in her work computer), she tells me about her day at work on the way home (unless we happen to be with another coworker who lives nearby), she tells our third flatmate when we get home (or tells me again), then she calls her brother and tells him (in the living room, it doesn’t matter whether other people are watching TV or trying to have a conversation). If someone is snappy to me, I think “whatever” and, so long as it doesn’t turn out to be a permanent mood for them, figure they were having a bad day; she can be turning one such incident around for weeks.
So, I was already thinking of getting my own place. Yes, it wouldn’t be “free”, but I need silence like this woman needs to talk, in order to relax. Plus what the heck: I’m self-employed, it’s a deductible business expense!
This week she’s not in but, having seen a roach, she had left every single door and window in the place closed tight, including the washer’s when it was wet (it doesn’t smell like mold, but do that enough and it will). She’s also hidden every single pot or bottle which wasn’t “put away”… has anybody seen the vinegar? I know there was a whole damn kilo of salt, where is it? The clothes detergent?
I’m befuddled rather than angry, but yeah, definitely seeking a place of my own. There’s a difference between being wrong inna head, which I’m sure I am because it’s my family’s natural state, and being insane, which living in this house could drive me.
Just wanted to add that not all cases of conjunctivitis (pink eye) are infectious. Most also tend to go away in 2-5 days regardless of treatment.
That being said, it’s annoying enough that when I brought my husband in with a red, weeping eye to the clinic I work at, they ‘banished’ him to a little-used exam room rather than put him in a regular exam room and risk having to clean the heck out of the exam chair and materials before they could bring another patient in.
(It wasn’t conjunctivitis; it ended up being keratitis due to some kind of infectious agent, but probably not really infectious itself.)
Wake up at 3:09am from an unpleasant dream to the sound of my cat horking up a HUGE patch (about 15" by 8") of wet vomit across the middle of my bed, right on top of the hand made quilt.
Go quickly wash it off quilt as best I can, set aside because it is now wet, go get another blanket.
Banish cat from bedroom.
NOT be able to get back to sleep from anger and then racing thoughts.
Would call in sick to work but that would put me on a verbal for attendance (we don’t get sick days) cost me a day of pay and the verbal would block me from eligibility for a raise after they just lifted the three year wage freeze.
And my cat doesn’t seem to be able to figure out why I won’t give her treats or pay the slightest attention to her. Yeah, it’s because I’m FUCKING PISSED OFF, you little bastard! No horking on my bed. EVER.
I’m going to have to deal with a moron this evening for the first time in a couple of weeks; last time I saw him was at a little festival. I’ve got a suspected trapped nerve, and I’m currently unable to walk for more than a few hundred meters without my leg getting so painful I can’t stand, but I’m fine sat down. I’m not dumb enough to set it off when I don’t have to, so unsurprisingly spent most of the weekend there sitting down- lots of stuff to watch, so I still had a nice time- until I went to leave.
Then, just as I was on my way out, this fucking idiot comes up to me and starts complaining that he, and I quote ‘Saw me eating a bag of crisps’ (chips for US type folk) and that was the cause of my back problem. I thought he was joking, and told him to bugger off, as I really wasn’t in the mood for a stupid conversation (a totally normal response with that group of people, before people jump on me for rudeness) but apparently he was serious. Apparently, eating a bag of crisps at a festival makes my diet ‘appalling’, and therefore will stop a trapped nerve from releasing.
He then started insisting that I just keep talking about my back, and I’m not doing anything to fix it- I mentioned it a few times, yes, of course I did, it was a circus skills convention, and I feel like I should explain why I’m not going to any of the workshops when people invite me to take part, but no, I didn’t go on about it. I know no-one else really cares, because it’s not their back, but I’ve kept the group we’re both part of well up to date because I’m supposed to be performing with them, and I’m not able to do shows until it gets better. I’m also probably about to lose my job over it, which I’m a bit stressed out by, so yeah, I’m worried. But he’s not been one of the people I’ve ever vented about it to. Everyone I have vented at has been quite understanding about it.
I currently don’t have a proper diagnosis, and have only been given a few basic excercises to try, though that will hopefully change when I get ot see the specialists next week, and the advice I had been given was to try and rest for a few days, and not do anything that was sparking off the problem. But no, the idiot knows better, despite having no grasp whatsoever of basic medical principals (for example, a few weeks earlier, in dead seriousness he informed me swimming will cure, or at least stop the growth of, cancer).
It wouldn’t have worried me so much, but he just would. not. drop. it. When I said that, not that it was any of his business, but actually, I do eat vegetables, but I’m hardly going to be able to get a salad on a site that doesn’t sell them when I can’t walk as far as the town, and what the hell is the harm of eating junk food occasionally on holiday? He told me the crisps were making me fat anyway, which would make my back worse, because I’m not doing anything. He then pretty much accused me of making the whole thing up anyway for attention. Oh, and if I didn’t immediately see the error of my ways, and eat whatever silly diet he invented (he’s more overweight than me and has a drink problem, which maybe had something to do with the rant) he saw no further point in ever talking to me about anything again.
I would be quite happy to go along with that bit, frankly, I’ve had more than enough of talking to him, but I have to deal with him as part of this group- I was enjoying it before I started getting broken, and they’re planning to keep it going for the next year as well, so I really don’t want to be in a stupid situation of not talking to one of the people who’s organising half of the gigs, even if he can’t throw me out the group. I’m just hoping he’s forgotten the whole rant, or remembered the bit about not talking to me, when I go to practice tonight.
There have been plenty of times that I could have written this (well, except for the workplace-specific details) and you have my complete and utter sympathy. For whatever that’s worth.
** slips a Xanax into Nava’s roommate’s orange juice **
Thank you, equine footwear, you truly are a pal.
Filbert, having had relatives with that kind of conditions, all I can say is “ow ow ow” and “I hope it gets better soon”.
Unless you are me. I have had pinkeye twice in the last two years. It lasted over a month! Both times. No contacts or eye makeup. Yucky drops (trying a new one each week).
Eventually, it went away a few days after I stopped treating it. It would appear that I had a reaction to the preservative used in pretty much all eye drops.
(On the plus side, I managed to keep it to myself. I didn’t give it to the kids or my husband. Mind you, my hands were raw from all the washing they were getting.)