Today was the semi-monthly toenail trimming appointment for the pugs. It may sound frivoluous to send one's dogs in for pedicures when one's own self has not had one in years. But one's own self does not scream, squirm around uncontrollably, and generally make it impossible to trim one's own toes.
Where was I?
Ah, yes, the vet. There was something in the air today that made the pugs especially excited to be at the vet's office. Was it the sudden delightful coolness in the air? Or could they just sense my exhaustion?
As soon as we entered the building, all heads turned to us. Not because we're such a good looking bunch, but due to the noise:
HAAA HAAA HAAA HAAAA
HOW HOW HOW HOW
(That's what two panting pugs sound like. It's surprisingly loud.)
The office is very tiny, and was very busy, so their noises took up the whole room.
Behind the counter, one of the vets was trying to make an appointment.
Customer: "Wait, when? Can you repeat that?"
HAAA HAAA HAAA HAAAA
HOW HOW HOW HOW
Vet: "I'll just write you an appointment card."
The pugs took turns pushing each other off the scale. "I'm fatter!" "No, I am!" The pug not currently on the scale decides it would be fun to wind it's leash around my legs as tightly as possible, constricting all movement. Then they switch!
During these fun times, the pugs are still panting very, very loudly.
HAAA HAAA HAAA HAAAA
HOW HOW HOW HOW
Finally someone comes to take one of the pugs in the back, and I am left with a far more manageable number. I sit down across from an elderly lady who entered with a walker. "What kinds of dogs are those?" she asks.
"Pugs."
"Oh."
I try to read one of the back dated magazines, but Buster (the pug who will be getting his nails trimmed second) decides it will be more fun to crawl under the chairs and wind his leash into impossible knots. I have to keep putting the magazine down to untangle him.
Then, suddenly, he decides to bark. Yip, really. His high pitched, "I'm so excited!" yip. Why? Oh, no reason. It had been getting quiet in here.
At last they bring Topanga out. I untangle Buster one last time, and drag him out from under the chair. They take him into the back, whining all the way.
Things are uneventful for a few glorious minutes, and I begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Buster comes back out, (HAAA HAAA HAAA HAAAA
HOW HOW HOW HOW) the vet says everything looks good, and I start to gather my things and untangle leashes.
But. Then.
I notice Topanga is squatting in the middle of the floor. Something brown suddenly appears.
Oh no.
Topanga has decided on a grand finale! Pooping in the waiting room! Massively pooping! The smell begins to waft.
I usher the dogs into the car before they can make things worse, and come back in to profusely apologize.
"Ah, it's okay. Poop happens." The lady behind the counter says.
I think she meant to say "Pugs happen".
P.S.: Oh, the fun continues once we get home! Buster threw up in FOUR different spots on the freshly (and expensively) cleaned floors. YOU'RE WELCOME!
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
I've got your number, pregnancy.
So, I think I have this whole thing figured out. Pregnancy is one indignity after another, but they all have a purpose!
To break your will so that you're ready for labor. By the time you're that far along, you won't mind pooping in front of a roomful of strangers!
That said, I am having a very good day. Good doctor visit, good lunch, feeling better every day, etc.
But! I can not seem to force a blog post out of myself at all these days. I've tried. Oh, how I've tried. I have scads of unfinished, whiny, rambling blog posts. I am really fumbling with this whole balancing work and pregnancy thing. Suddenly, listing things on Etsy is such a chore. I can't remember to relist expired items.
I thought I would be all over crafting things for the baby. Instead, I am all over the house, napping. Or eating. If I could do both things at once, I would. None of my pants fit any more, by the way. (And I'm only 11 weeks along! This bodes well.)
I hate to admit it, but it's like most of my creative energy has been absorbed by the baby. I'm creating something really big and complicated, and suddenly my brain doesn't have the extra space to dream up new creatures and designs.
I feel a nap coming on, so I need to tie this up. I can't think of a conclusion. Um...things are good, but different, and that is a little nerve wracking. Profound!
To break your will so that you're ready for labor. By the time you're that far along, you won't mind pooping in front of a roomful of strangers!
That said, I am having a very good day. Good doctor visit, good lunch, feeling better every day, etc.
But! I can not seem to force a blog post out of myself at all these days. I've tried. Oh, how I've tried. I have scads of unfinished, whiny, rambling blog posts. I am really fumbling with this whole balancing work and pregnancy thing. Suddenly, listing things on Etsy is such a chore. I can't remember to relist expired items.
I thought I would be all over crafting things for the baby. Instead, I am all over the house, napping. Or eating. If I could do both things at once, I would. None of my pants fit any more, by the way. (And I'm only 11 weeks along! This bodes well.)
I hate to admit it, but it's like most of my creative energy has been absorbed by the baby. I'm creating something really big and complicated, and suddenly my brain doesn't have the extra space to dream up new creatures and designs.
I feel a nap coming on, so I need to tie this up. I can't think of a conclusion. Um...things are good, but different, and that is a little nerve wracking. Profound!
Friday, July 9, 2010
Inspiration Friday!
Maybe I only find this funny because I have an entire basement of this kind of stuff, but Bad Postcards is definitely worth a look. http://bad-postcards.tumblr.com/
This is now old, but so cute:
AT-AT Day Afternoon!
Greg Peltz is creating some amazing portraits of Star Wars characters...as old timey gentlemen!
Another animal video, this time it's Tortcam!
Ohhh, I want a camera for our tortoise sooooo bad now. Actually, I really really want one for the pugs. Dogcam!
This is now old, but so cute:
AT-AT Day Afternoon!
Greg Peltz is creating some amazing portraits of Star Wars characters...as old timey gentlemen!
Another animal video, this time it's Tortcam!
Ohhh, I want a camera for our tortoise sooooo bad now. Actually, I really really want one for the pugs. Dogcam!
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Four Hundred
It's really hard for me to not make that all caps. FOUR HUNDRED. FOUR. HUNDRED.
Four Hundred Chickenpants. 400!!
And here she is, Miss 400 herself, Chickenpants Antoinette!
Who can sum up the opulence? the decadence? the general over-the-top-ness of Chickenpants better than Chickenpants Antoinette? Nobody, that's who.
Chickenpants Antoinette sports a lovely blue gown over layers and layers of petticoats. (Okay, layers and layers of tulle. Work with me here.) She's then frosted with vintage fabric and jewelry bits. Finally, I topped her off with piles of fake hair. And hand sewed 22 faux-pearls on to her collar. Yes, she is wearing pants way under there. Let's call them 'stockings' this time, though.
Now, who's for cake?
You can check her out in the coop here, if you are so inclined.
Four Hundred Chickenpants. 400!!
And here she is, Miss 400 herself, Chickenpants Antoinette!
Who can sum up the opulence? the decadence? the general over-the-top-ness of Chickenpants better than Chickenpants Antoinette? Nobody, that's who.
Chickenpants Antoinette sports a lovely blue gown over layers and layers of petticoats. (Okay, layers and layers of tulle. Work with me here.) She's then frosted with vintage fabric and jewelry bits. Finally, I topped her off with piles of fake hair. And hand sewed 22 faux-pearls on to her collar. Yes, she is wearing pants way under there. Let's call them 'stockings' this time, though.
Now, who's for cake?
You can check her out in the coop here, if you are so inclined.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Inspiration Friday!
Ha, ha. Yes, I'm still sporadically posting stuff, and I will continue to do so. Especially Inspiration Friday. That's my favorite!
Somethin' awesome is cooking up over at the Bloggess.
Which reminds me, I need to dust off my tiara.
How great is this new fabric from My Paper Crane?
It's based on amazing paper cut stamps she made. Awesome!
And speaking of cool things she makes, check out this plush mushroom terrarium.
This shouldn't be so funny to me, but it is.
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Somethin' awesome is cooking up over at the Bloggess.
Which reminds me, I need to dust off my tiara.
How great is this new fabric from My Paper Crane?
It's based on amazing paper cut stamps she made. Awesome!
And speaking of cool things she makes, check out this plush mushroom terrarium.
This shouldn't be so funny to me, but it is.
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Bunny Debacle of 2010
Hey everyone. Remember this bunny?
FINNEGAN!
He was given to us by friends because he was a boy, they had a girl, etc. We accepted him happily, and lived in harmony. UNTIL.
Until the Great Digestive Upset of Earlier in 2010. The vet then proclaimed him a girl, as she could not find testicles.
Okay. So, Finnegan's a girl now, eh? Okay. We can live with that. Same old Finnegan. what's not to love?
UNTIL.
Until we went on vacation for the first time in years, leaving Finnegan with a housesitter and her Chihuahua. When we came back, somebody had been a'markin'. We chalked this up to the Chihuahua (of course!). But the marking didn't stop. And lo, it did not smell like pug pee. (Trust me, I know what that smells like.) Finnegan had taken up the hobby of marking. Ewwwww. This had to stop, of course. So we booked her an appointment at the vet's to be fixed. (Spayed? Neutered? Whichever.) I had read up online that this might hopefully cure the marking problem.
Fast forward to the early afternoon after I've dropped her off. I received a call from a confused vet tech. "So, uh, what made you think this was a girl?"
"Er...we thought it was a boy, until the vet told us otherwise last time she was in."
"Huh. 'Cause the vet can't find any ovaries."
"What?"
"No ovaries."
"O-kaaaay. What about boy parts? Does she have any of those?"
"We'll call you back in a bit."
Now, to be fair to the local vet: they've always done a great job treating our pugs. We live waaaaaay out in the country, and it's *just* possible that they don't treat a lot of rabbits.
So naturally, I called Dan. "They can't find any lady parts on Finnegan."
"What?"
"I know!"
"Well then...it's a boy after all?"
"They don't know. They're calling me back."
Dan decided to talk to a co-worker who raises prize rabbits, among other livestock.
"Oh yeah, it can be really hard to sex the rabbits. If you don't know what you're looking for, you won't find it."
Dan called me back, and repeated this (and more!), much to the delight of his co-workers.
The vet called back, too. "So, uh, we can't find her ovaries. Or uterus. So we didn't fix her. My guess is that she was already fixed, and that's why the parts aren't there."
Really? Because my guess is that you don't know what you're doing!
I picked poor Mr./Ms. Finnegan up later in the afternoon. I also picked up a very large vet bill. Because although the surgery wasn't actually performed, poking around isn't free.
And my rabbit still is not fixed. But he'll get a cool scar out of the deal! Oh, and the marking will continue. That'll be $200, please.
FINNEGAN!
He was given to us by friends because he was a boy, they had a girl, etc. We accepted him happily, and lived in harmony. UNTIL.
Until the Great Digestive Upset of Earlier in 2010. The vet then proclaimed him a girl, as she could not find testicles.
Okay. So, Finnegan's a girl now, eh? Okay. We can live with that. Same old Finnegan. what's not to love?
UNTIL.
Until we went on vacation for the first time in years, leaving Finnegan with a housesitter and her Chihuahua. When we came back, somebody had been a'markin'. We chalked this up to the Chihuahua (of course!). But the marking didn't stop. And lo, it did not smell like pug pee. (Trust me, I know what that smells like.) Finnegan had taken up the hobby of marking. Ewwwww. This had to stop, of course. So we booked her an appointment at the vet's to be fixed. (Spayed? Neutered? Whichever.) I had read up online that this might hopefully cure the marking problem.
Fast forward to the early afternoon after I've dropped her off. I received a call from a confused vet tech. "So, uh, what made you think this was a girl?"
"Er...we thought it was a boy, until the vet told us otherwise last time she was in."
"Huh. 'Cause the vet can't find any ovaries."
"What?"
"No ovaries."
"O-kaaaay. What about boy parts? Does she have any of those?"
"We'll call you back in a bit."
Now, to be fair to the local vet: they've always done a great job treating our pugs. We live waaaaaay out in the country, and it's *just* possible that they don't treat a lot of rabbits.
So naturally, I called Dan. "They can't find any lady parts on Finnegan."
"What?"
"I know!"
"Well then...it's a boy after all?"
"They don't know. They're calling me back."
Dan decided to talk to a co-worker who raises prize rabbits, among other livestock.
"Oh yeah, it can be really hard to sex the rabbits. If you don't know what you're looking for, you won't find it."
Dan called me back, and repeated this (and more!), much to the delight of his co-workers.
The vet called back, too. "So, uh, we can't find her ovaries. Or uterus. So we didn't fix her. My guess is that she was already fixed, and that's why the parts aren't there."
Really? Because my guess is that you don't know what you're doing!
I picked poor Mr./Ms. Finnegan up later in the afternoon. I also picked up a very large vet bill. Because although the surgery wasn't actually performed, poking around isn't free.
And my rabbit still is not fixed. But he'll get a cool scar out of the deal! Oh, and the marking will continue. That'll be $200, please.
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