Rest In Peace Rusty Roo

The moment finally came, and the decision was made. We put Rusty the poodle down yesterday at 4:15 yesterday. It was a peaceful end to his love filled 15 year life.

It was the hardest day of my life. Holding him, giving him extra treats, taking off his harness and using my long nails to give him a good scratch in all the hard to reach places. I was crying so hard the whole way as dad tried to talk me out of going into the room.

"It will upset you terribly" he said.
"I know." i replied
"You really don't know." he pressed.
"I'd feel worse if i didn't."

There were so many things i wanted to say but every time i got started my throat felt like it closed off. I think that was the quietest car ride my dad and i had ever shared.

In the end, I didn't go into the room. The vet requested that if a family member couldn't keep it together, that they weren't present. I knew there was no way i could watch my puppy slip away without bawling. So i sat in the car crying into Molly's fur while she looked out the window probably hoping that dad would bring food back for her. Indeed when a beagle was being walked near the car, she kept licking her chops. Finally i reminded her it was a beagle not a bagel.

Everything else yesterday was trying to get from one task to the other. Reading James Herriot to mom since she's still recovering from surgery. Trying to coordinate the family for tomorrow going to and from Seattle. Driving back with my sister and trying to figure out what in my closet would work for a bachelorette party. Cleaning out all the garbage in my car to get ready for camping this weekend. Forcing food down my throat despite it clamping up several times. Trying somehow to explain to Boyfriend Jon what i needed from him when i didn't even know myself. And finally falling into bed exhausted and feeling like a wrung out towel.

When it rains it pours.

I feel like the Little Red Hen

For those who have never heard the story of The Little Red Hen, i'll give a quick summary.

A hen lived on a farm with a dog, a cat and a duck.

She found some seeds and asked the other animals to help her plant them. They all reply with "Not I". So she plants them by herself. After a while, the seeds grow into wheat. The hen asks the animals to help her cut the wheat. They all reply with "Not I". So she cuts it herself. She then asks them to help her take the wheat to the mill to be turned into flour. Again, they won't help and she does it herself. When she gets back, she asks them to help her make the four into bread. Again, they won't help. Finally when the bread is done and smells delicious, she calls them and asks them to help her eat it. Naturally they all rush to help with that part. When they arrive she reminds them of their refusal to help before and promptly eats the bread by herself while they have to look on.

There is a team at work who constantly is having potlucks and group outings and moral events. Occasionally, my team (which is bigger) gets invited too. Many times, I've been asked why we don't throw our own pot lucks. Finally, with another team member's help...we've arranged for a potluck and given almost 3 weeks worth of notice. Surprisingly...out of over 50 people....less than 15 have signed up. It's two days away and reminders are constantly met with "i can't think of anything to bring".

Something tells me many of them will be happy to show up to help eat the potluck meal so long as they don't have to work for it. I can literally feel the resentment brewing between co-workers as they come over to me to complain about how many people haven't signed up.

And they wonder why we don't have these very often.

Nano Novel #4?

Yes, i realize that its only July. But my mind is already thinking about the next NaNoWriMo. (I write the first draft of a novel in the month of November. Check out the NaNoWriMo tab above for more details)

Perhaps its the very November-esque weather, or the constant rain, or finding an old collection of stories i read a great deal as a kid. Who knows. But i keep having to squash the countdown to November that my brain is trying to start. 

I started a plot bunny way back in 2009. I think it was shortly after i had finally gotten around to watching the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I had the idea for an adventure novel. But the idea quickly fizzled after about 5,000 words. 

Why? Well, i hate history. Especially the fact checking part. I couldn't come up with a adventure similar to Indiana Jones without doing some research. So the story went onto the back burner and quickly from there into the archives. 

But the intro was strong, the characters were vivid, and i had grand plans for the way their paths would be woven together. 

Jimmy and Jason Lewis. Twins whose temperance couldn't be more different. Jimmy is a charmer, suave and has an insane amount of luck. He's the kind of guy who could be broke and find a 20$ bill in the gutter just by bending down to tie his shoe. Jason on the other hand is a brooder, worrier, and pessimistic. He's constantly thrust into his brother's shadow but feels like he has a duty to protect his foolhardy brother. Ironically, Jimmy's luck has a habit of saving them both. 

Rebecca Carlson. The daughter of a widowed professor who has been brought up to be quick witted, logical, and headstrong instead of the socially acceptable demure lady. Her Aunt Alice takes it upon herself to smooth out the rougher edges which is like dulling a knife with a Brillo pad. 

I had dreams of an adventure through Europe, dodging the Nazis and being mistaken for spies. But i didn't know enough about WW2 and always have trouble staying awake through my uncles long winded lectures. 

But it wasn't until I ran across an old book i read often as a kid that i suddenly had amazing inspiration. I have always loved Mythology. Mostly because there is no way to fact check these legends and stories. It was exciting too- heros, goddesses, wisdom that would last the ages, and the ending were not always happy. I shocked the heck out of my teachers when i read the Odyssey at age 9. And i still find it fascinating. 

Suddenly i had my answer. What if my characters found some of the old immortals which had managed to hide themselves away from the world as it grew each century to present time. 

After all the struggling last year with the story line that just refused to be easy, i almost decided to quit NaNo all together. 

Now...i can't get my brain to stop. If i can't get a decent summer, can it at least hurry up to November?

The importance of great kitchenware

My number one pet peeve that i have is people who don't take care of their kitchen equiptment. Good cookware is essential for me. My family always pushed and emphasis on quality in the kitchen and i quickly learned why my mom refused to let us put pots in the dishwasher, instead making us wash everything that had to do with the stove by hand.

I started out with practically nothing in my kitchen arsenal aside from a basic four serving corelle ware dishes and some silverware i got from value village. I had to rely on the roommate's cooking tools. I was immediately horrified at my first roommate's so called cooking tools. And no...most of them didn't get the job done. They were scratched, dented, stained, cooked unevenly, food stuck, and didn't sit flat on the stove. Probably because she always threw them in the dishwasher or left the burner on. I couldn't fathom someone being so careless but there was nothing i could do.

I swore that i would never have pots and pans that were THAT crappy. I remember hiding my one fantastic universal pan in my room instead of in the kitchen. When i got an amazing professional stainless steel set for Christmas, they stayed in the box until i moved out despite my yearning for quality pans every time i cooked.

 My next roommate had her own set, which were already getting scratched. But they at least worked. I seasoned them for her and I did my best to take care of them when i used them though she always looked askance at me when i hand washed them. My professional set stayed hidden away in my garage. Finally, i moved out on my own and i was so excited to finally pull the pots out of their box. They were just so pretty!

It's hard to believe that in just a handful of years, I've filled out my collection with quality, nice looking, serviceable kitchenware. Especially since the roommates are no longer a factor. I still drool over kitchen gadgets and was in awe of the professional cooking store i found nearby. I started to expand my collection beyond the basics.

Everything from a kitchen aid (best invention ever!), quality wood spatulas and spoons, pyrex mixing dishes, and high quality and sharp knives. I even got Boyfriend Jon a nice set of knives to replace his old ones because they drove me insane.

But there are still so many things I need. For dinner this week, i'm planning on a green bean casserole, one of Boyfriend Jon's favorites and lo and behold...no casserole dish. Before this we had been using the disposable aluminum tins from the grocery store. I instantly thought of my parent's Visionware Corning dish. That sucker is awesome. But they're not carried in any local stores. Before i know what's happened, it's past my bedtime and I had been looking at Corning ware at every single local store that sells it for over two hours.

It's an obsession. I won't deny it. Having a beautiful and functional kitchen with great tools is a big dream of mine. A currently un-achievable dream given my apartment and income, but a constant one. Down to the fact that i highly covet my buddy Kenny's island in his kitchen. I miss the days of plentiful counterspace. I'd happily give up a dining room to have a bigger kitchen. And i can't help but imagine a home with one of those mockups you see at home depot or ikea.

So please, be kind to your good kitchenware.

Too many cooks spoils the sauce

The garage sale was in a word, chaotic. By the time the signs went up on Friday, everyone was already stressed. The weather decided it would be funny to rain for 2 out of 3 days and we had way too many people all very willing to help but ultimately adding to the chaos. 

In addition to the family, we had the neighbor kids who helped set up, make signs (which were cute, but barely readable) and then set up a lemonade stand to stop them from running around like crazy. Their grandparents who brought a ton of random items, and my sister's coworker's wife and her infant were also there. Then the neighbors joined in. It was crowded and loud and everyone was in each other's way and no one was 100% sure how low negotiating could go since there were so many people's stuff there. 

I don't ever want to do a garage sale again. By opening time on Sunday, i was ready to call it quits. I had had enough of the arguing, the chaos and the stress. After talking with my dad, i stuck it out even though i had zero enthusiasm left. Thankfully by Sunday, everything was very quiet. We ended up watching Demolition Man to stay awake while the rain did it's best to soak us out.

Between everyone we sold about 1000 dollars worth of our old stuff. This included some big dollar items such as the piano i spent twelve years learning on, some dressers, electronics, and other furniture. As for me, i got rid of some knick knacks but none of the major items i was hoping to get some moola for. I came away with just over $40 which will be put towards a folding table for entertaining, crafts and general space saving abilities in my tiny apartment. But i'm just glad that now i'll have room to move around...once i fold laundry that is. 

My saving grace this weekend was Boyfriend Jon who got me not just one beautiful bouquet, but three to help cheer me up. And then we watched and concluded the LOTR extended edition blue rays. It explained a lot of things i forgot about since i haven't read the books in a long time. But it was just nice to sit and relax with no one clamoring for my attention every five seconds. Oh, and the double stuffed Oreos might have helped some too. 

Update on Rusty Roo

We finally had some good news after a week of worry and stress. Rusty went in for an X-ray and they determined that it's not his larynx but more likely a bronchial infection. So Rusty is in for a month long round of antibiotics and hopefully that will help with his severe cough. We're not out of the woods yet, but at least there's some rays of light.

It was scary listening to him. Every single breath out sounded like he was coughing deep in his chest and sometimes it seemed like he was having difficulty breathing at all. His poor sides are swollen and you can see that he definitively is having some problems with his kidneys. We don't know if they're failing for sure, but at least with the doggy dope, he's not in any pain.

Meanwhile, we try to encourage him to relax and sleep as much as possible. Not that this is a problem because as long as you stay seated, he konks out.

Wallet Theif, aka Miss Molly dog is having a hard time with all the attention he's getting. She's been pawing and jumping up people more often with her "pet me! pet me!" pleading look. We know she's jealous of Rusty in that she doesn't like the attention and food he steals from her...but when you look at them together, they're a lot like an old married couple. And if Rusty were ever not there...she'd miss him a lot...except when there was food around.

Otherwise, the family is finally unwinding from all the Rusty stress and onto the Garage Sale stress. The weather seems to not want to cooperate and is threatening rain so tonight we get to figure out how to cover everything.

We have a huge, multi family haul and hopefully, we'll be able to keep track of everything and get a reasonable amount of money for it.

Me, i'm gonna spend the money on a new folding table, a new lamp a second camping/patio/gaming chair and the rest will go towards my credit card bill which still has not recovered completely from glorious San Francisco.

Rusty Roo

I still remember the day mom told my brother and I that we were getting a puppy. Dad was sitting in his chair looking angry but defeated and Johnny was so happy that he forgot our sibling hatred and hugged me. We hadn't been able to have a dog before because of his allergies, but mom had found a dog that wouldn't aggravate them. The dog was a miniature poodle, and it had hair instead of fur. I was 9 going on 10 and Johnny was 11 going on 12.

Our previous dog Belle had died when i was so young that i really only had one memory of the border collie. I had recently learned the word "Vacuum" and when i spilled a bag of her food on the stairs, she started cleaning it up. I mistakenly started calling her the Vacuum. This for some reason had my older sister practically falling down laughing. When Belle died, Dad sat us down on those same stairs and said Belle wasn't coming home anymore.I think i was 4 at the time. I know it devastated my sister though. I kept trying to cheer her up by drawing pictures of dogs. Hey...i was little. I didn't understand.

I remember that the breeder lived in the same city as my grandma and that her house smelled funny. The puppies were hilarious barking and climbing all over us. The breeder kept trying to sell mom on a puppy she had temporarily named Houdini. But mom kept giving her dubious looks and looking down at her foot. It wasn't until later i understood why. A blonde colored (actually he's called apricot, but i never understood why) puppy was curled up and calmly watching the other rambunctious puppies from right next to her foot. That was the dog we got.

After a plethora of names ranging from Spazmanian Devil to simply Dog, we settled on Rusty for the rust colored spot on his hind quarters. He wasn't always calm and content to sit in your lap snoozing (until mom came in the room that is). When we got home for the day from school, Rusty would run laps at breakneck speed around our couch and up and down the hall. He didn't even have to be taught fetch, just natrually brought the stick back to us. It was even funnier when you threw it and he lost sight of it, and just looked around until he found any stick and brought that back.

Rusty was even the reason i broke my ankle in 8th grade. Going down that staircase again, Rusty got underfoot, and instead of taking the steps two at a time, i took four. My foot landed, then rolled under with a loud pop as i tried to prevent myself from falling on him as my legs gave way. When we finally untangled and was holding my leg, he got on to the step next to my face and was trying to lick away the tears.

 For fifteen years Rusty has been a part of our lives. He has loved us through everything. Accidentally stepping on him, forgetting to feed him, baths, swimming lessons at the lake, and the introduction of Dubbie (my mom took care of the skittish terrier for the neighbors) and Molly (my sister's dog). He was always content to just sit with you while reading a book, or watching TV. It didn't matter, just to be with you, in the same room was enough. He has been my companion, co-pilot, confidant, hot water bottle, playmate, and an endless source of amusement and love.

He's dying. His larynges are collapsing, making him cough a lot which aggravates his heart murmur which in turn aggravates his already failing kidneys. He's almost blind and pretty much can only hear loud noises. Mom is determined to see if it can be fixed without causing Rusty any more pain or diminishing his quality of life. We should know by Wednesday afternoon if anything can be done but the doctor's prognosis didn't seem optimistic.

Although i'm not really sure he's aware of anything. The doctor put him on doggy dope and he's been really out of it. He's even walking like he's been at sea for a few months. We have to walk him down the steps to the backyard so he can do his business. And when he's sitting in your lap, he kind of stares at a random spot and sways back and forth with his tongue sticking out.

I bought the series of James Herriot. If you don't know about "All Creatures Great and Small" you should look into the novels about a country doctor in England. Heartwarming and consoling he deals with everything from birth to death of amazing animals of the everyday sort and the people whom have bonded with them. I listened to the audio books a lot as a kid and for some reason, i feel myself yearning for those words again.

No one wants him to suffer but no one wants to say goodbye either. I'm trying to steel myself against the inevitable, but anyone who has ever lost a pet, a dog especially, knows there's not much to do except grieve. I'm thankful that i have some time to hold him and pet him before the end.

Animals gone nuts!

Boyfriend Jon, heretoafter referred to as Typhoid Jon in this post, got me sick. I know i should have seen it coming but i still didn't avoid the plague boy as i should have. Nope, my instincts kicked in and i took care of him.

Starting Tuesday, my throat decided to be uncomfortably raw, then my nose revolted by blocking airflow. Next thing i know, I'm laying in bed with no covers cause i'm boiling hot. Then i'm freezing to the point where i have a sheet, a comforter and a down comforter and i'm still shivering. By morning, i was calling in sick and stayed home  sleeping until 11am. At some point, i decided that i needed to go look in my outdoor patio closet for something.

I unlocked the door and pulled it open and was scared half to death by a dark brown rat jumping from one box to another. After doing the normal thing by screaming and looking around for a chair to stand on and calling Typhoid Jon to...well i have no idea why i called him other than to have someone sympathize with me...I finally got a hold of myself.

I'm not scared of rats. Granted, they are disease filled scavenger varmints, but i played with the pet versions and exterminated the non pet versions. We had a large nest of grain rats in our woodpile for a couple of years and dad put me in charge of trapping them. And when in the unfortunate circumstances the trap didn't actually kill them instantly, i tried to make it clean and quick. It was definitively my least favorite of all the oddball chores i was assigned, but I got the job done.

I think the scream (if you can call it that through my hoarse voicebox) was more out of surprise than any actual fear. Finally, i grabbed the stick i wedge my door shut with and started cleaning out my closet. The rat managed to escape with its life, but the nest i think it was starting to build in my christmas decorations did not survive the purge. I found rat poop and pee all over my stuff which thankfully was in plastic containers. The only cloth item, my suitcase, seems to have managed to remain unscathed.

Since i was sick, it took me over an hour to get everything out of my closet, which normally would have taken me ten minutes. Given that i was home and it was a relatively nice day, i left everything out on my patio while i washed off the rat poop and pee. Then i got interrupted by a phone call from my backup at work, asking a few questions. I sat down on my couch to talk. That's when i noticed my Kitchen Aid box tilt alarmingly to the left and return to its normal position. As i watched, it did it again!

I told my backup that i needed to go, and rushed out onto my patio thinking that i had missed something or the rat was back. Nope, this is what i saw:

It was HUGE, probably one of the largest coons I've seen in a while standing not even five feet from me with only my stuff between us. It looked up at me like "Oh what? is this your stuff? Well do you have any food?" and didn't budge. I screamed at it, waved my hands, and banged on one of the tubs with my stick. Then i grabbed my broom and poked towards it. The look it gave me clearly said "oh please, you don't think i'm gonna give up that easily do you? What about over here? any food here?" as it reached for the kitchen aid box again.

I picked up a bottle of windex i had nearby and hucked it at his head. It hit him, but he started playing with the bottle instead of taking it as a threatening gesture. Finally, i got fed up. I quickly found my blow gun and loaded a non lethal plastic stun dart in it. The last thing i wanted to do that day was clean up a coon carcass. The coon retreated a few steps when the first dart hit him, but it took NINE direct hits with the stun darts for him to finally give up and sauntered into the woods.

By this point, i had a headache, my sinuses were killing me, i was coughing up a storm and sweating profusely.  Still i managed to rushingly shove everything back in the closet and wedge a box in the back of where the door would close hopefully deterring the rat somewhat. I called my dad and asked for his help putting shelves in my closet to get my stuff up off the floor.

Mercifully after that, i sank into my couch and quickly gave into oblivion for a while.

Hang on...nope...i'm not done yet. The menagerie continues if you can believe that.

The next day a robin decided it didn't like my freshly cleaned windows and began attacking them leaving poop, feathers and smudge marks all over them.

And as evening fell, the rat returned though i managed to see it before it got into my closet and threw a block of wood at it to scare it off.

Why won't the animals just let me be sick in peace?