more Mollyness

Molly. What a stitch! If you're sick of dog stories, stop reading now. And go buy yourself a puppy, before your heart grows two sizes too small!
Actually, there's not a whole lot of Mollyness to write about. Just simple things she does that make me belly laugh. Last night, while talking to my 22 year-old married, in-college daughter (we'll call her Dreamer) Molly decided it would be fun/tasty/disgusting/annoying to try and insert her muzzle into my mouth while I was speaking. While some might find this tasteless (pun intended) I could only laugh since it was a new behavior and totally unprepared for. And I wasn't eating anything! The laughter only encouraged her, and I finally had to put her down to finish the conversation. Tonight, Molly is testing her boundaries (her ears just perked up - "What, I have boundaries? Ha!") by chewing all things forbidden. She has chewed up kleenex, a dryer sheet, my husband's shoe (only nibbled, no damage), my son's shoe (we'll name him at a later date, and rename Whiner, as she hath protested) and her blanket. Not to mention her chew stick and a pig's ear. "In a pig's ear!", you cry. "Allllriiiiiigggghhhhhttttt!!!!!", Molly replies. She dearly loves the porcine auricle.
And being a beagle, after being chastised, she comes up to you, places forepaws on your lap, wags her beagle-ey tail, looks up to you with those Maybelline eyes and seeks forgiveness. Or most likely, forgot why she was even yelled at in the first place and just wants to play. Honey the min-pin loves to cuddle, and will growl at Molly and even tell her, "You. Me. Outside now, hound-dog!" The minpins think they're full-size dobies, and no one forgot to tell them that they're only 1/10th the size (and an entirely different breed! Now, didn't I just burst your bubble?) Honey hates her lovin' interrupted. Which is amusing. Honey is so fickle as to cuddle Molly all night long in the crate. We cover it with a sheet, originally to keep the dogs from seeing out and whining til dawn. Now we just. don't. want. to know what they're doing all hours. And they call it Puppy Love!
OK. Also. They're doing so much better with the housetraining thing. Yessir, we adults be trained reel well by now! If we put them outside often enough, they will eventually make piles and puddles there instead of inside! What a concept! If only we could get the teenagers to buy into this idea. I guess they take longer to train. And you know what they say: Nothing ruins good parenting like teenagers. And this is not, of course, true of all teens. Surely not yours. Or mine. But somebody's! Else where did that bumper sticker come from?
So as if to prove a point, Honey is in my lap even as I type this and Molly approached only to get the growl-down from Miss Thang. Now Honey's head is on my right hand. I wish you could see the typos before I fix them. Now there's a beagle under my feet and my right forefinger and thumb are being licked to pieces. i m no loger abl 2 tyoopejrasnn
bye

Molly update, and other stuff

Molly has recovered from my ill-fated attempt to provide routine hygiene, i.e. clip her nails. We left the pressure dressing on until this morning, since we got home late last night from a concert in the next town. Molly did not want me to do anything to her paw. She probably thought I was going to finish the job, remove the entire paw, and make a good-luck charm, like the ol' lucky rabbits' foot (lucky for everyone but the rabbit!). Once the bandage was off, she licked her foot for about 10 minutes, then got up and began to run around like the moron beagle puppy she is. I mean, she and Honey can really tear around the house, to the point of running full-speed into doors that are always closed. Not the brightest breed on the lot, but she sure is lovable! I also love the minpin, Honey, but she's actually Whiner's dog, so I remain a little detached. Someday, Whiner may take Honey when she moves out, so there you go.

Speaking of dogs, this is strange behavior: Honey will chew the side piece of the crate they sleep in at night. It's made of steel and is a piece that sticks out to latch the door. So strange! We have all manner of enticing chew-toys and bones, but she would rather munch out on this crate, the ironing board adjustment knob (also steel) and as of today, the corner of the brick fireplace (made of brick, strangely enough) Does anyone have any insight on this?

We went to see/hear Ernie Haase and Signature Sound; we first saw them last month at a Gaither Homecoming concert. They're an excellent men's gospel quartet, and if you like that kind of thing, I highly recommend them. Tight harmonies, and a little entertaining to watch as well.

On our way home, there was a fatal motorcycle wreck on the highway (there's a fatal wreck on this particular interstate all too frequently) so what should have been a 30 minute ride took an hour and 15 minutes. Could have been worse. Could have been an overturned semi with some type of difficult-to-clean-up stuff on board. We may have been there still!

While at the concert, Whiner called. She knew we were there, so I ignored the call. (By the way, our phones were already on silent. My biggest pet peeve in the world is people not putting their phones on silent, so that they ring at the most horrible times: during the saddest part of a movie, a concert, or *gasp*! communion!!!! I've observed this first-hand.) Then she called my husband's phone. He turned his off, too, but I went outside to call her back. She was spending the evening with my parents, and my Dad was very ill. Had a temp up to 104. He's already under hospice care so this was not good. Fortunately, it turned out to be an infection in his foot and he's much better today.

Tomorrow I have to get up early, go to church, put on a costume that inflates around me with a battery-operated fan, and be involved in a children's program. It truly is fun, but different! Kids love this stuff.

I gotta go to bed. Sorry this wasn't a funny post. Life isn't too funny sometimes.

Beagle blood

Tonight, I almost killed Molly. At least that's how it felt. Molly is my almost-4-month-old beagle I got for a birthday/Christmas/anniversary/honey,i'msorryyourotherdogdied present. She is a delightful creature, and she almost died at my hands.

At her last checkup, I commented to the vet tech about how mildly Molly was taking her nail-clipping. My min-pin, Minuette, had always hated that and needed to be muzzled, no matter who was doing it or how much they tried to bribe her with canine cookies. Molly, being a beagle, adored her cookies and hardly noticed the nail clipping. The vet tech assured me that I could do this at home. "But what if I clip one too short, and it bleeds?" Not to worry, vet tech said. Just apply pressure. "I saw some stuff at the pet store to stop the bleeding. I could get some of that." Oh, no, vet tech said, just make a paste of flour and water; that'll work just as well. So tonight, after getting home from a long day of work, I took the brand-new and ever so sharp clippers and gingerly clipped Molly's forepaws (front feet). This went well! Wow, I thought, vet tech was right! This is a breeze! Even her duclaws were easy to do. Molly got just a little restless when I started on her hind paws (hind paws? back feet? the ones she jumps on when she scratches me with her forepaws, when they need trimming). The first nail and Molly moved. And she yelped. And bled. And because she knows that I'm a licensed medical professional, only for humans, she bled some more. I asked husband to make the flour-paste, but steady pressure stopped the bleeding. (Remember! All bleeding stops! Eventually. Don't think too much about that or you'll have trouble sleeping.) Needless to say, nail clipping was done for the night. Molly ran around with her slightly older sister, our new min-pin named Honey. And then she started to bleed again. Her blood taunted me, "Oh, sure, you know what to do when your patients come in bleeding! Let's see you fix this with hormones!!!" I applied pressure again, and made a paste of flour and water. Not only did this not work, but Honey began to eat the paste. Hey, maybe she won't crap all over the floor for a few days!!!! Molly kept bleeding, looking up at me with those soulful, beagle eyes. I tried pressure for several more minutes, and the bleeding stopped. I was picturing a looong bath (since I now looked like "Blood Beach" had been filmed all over my lap, floor, and couch cover) and Girl Scout cookies!!!! But noooooo! The blood started again!!!! I woke my husband (it was only 7:40, but it's the Olympics, and he took the gold for "sleeps anytime") and we bundled up Molly and took her to the new emergency vet clinic near our house. Note the descriptive, "new." The vet, who didn't even introduce himself, used a silver nitrate stick to stop the bleeding, said this happens all the time, and she should have stopped bleeding at home after five minutes. Duh! After saying this, Molly started bleeding again. He took a closer look and said, "Oh, this is down to the bone!" The bone!!! I cut my puppy's toenail to the bone!!!! I am an unfit mother!!! I teared up. My husband was trying to be reassuring by telling me that she would be fine and wasn't dead. Maybe that soulful look on Molly's face was really saying, "Do I HAVE to go home with HER again?" The vet applied pressure dressing and pretty pink tape. Molly also has an elizabethan collar to keep her from chewing off the dressing. The bill?
emergency exam before 11pm 78.76
bandage minor 31.50
elizabethan collar 21.00
Do the math.........$131.26!!! Wonder how many nail clippings I could have had done at PetSmart for that price? You can bet we're gonna find out!

exercise sucks! and designer vaginas!!!

Another day, another blog. I bought a yoga mat at Wal-Mart. We have terrazzo throughout our entire house, and until we became the proud parents of two puppies at Christmastime (a min-pin and a beagle) we had cheap rugs in the living room and FL room. We took them out since prior pets (especially an evil cat or two) had stained them. I decided not to replace them with new puppies coming in. Plus, I have asthma and carpets aren't good for that.

Back to the yoga mat. In rare times past when I've done crunches or any floor exercises, the carpet was fine, except for coming up with enough animal hair to create another kitten. Since the holidays, I put on a few pounds (who didn't? if not you, just hush. Nobody likes a show-off) and decided to do some light exercise in the living room (note to others: forget John Basedow, unless you own a gym). So I bought the mat. Well, I can tell you 50 crunches later that a yoga mat is about as good as a paper towel on these hard floors. I need one of those mats the kids lie on in kindergarten! Minus the snot and germs. I would need to sew two together to make up for height.

And what price beauty, anyway? I just saw on the news today that there is a surgeon creating designer vaginas now! No, I just can't tone up my belly flab with some crunches and a few less calories. I gotta get liposuctioned, tummy tucked, face lifted, lips plumped (as if mine need it - "I was fat-lipped, when fat-lipped wasn't cool"), boobs done, veins lasered, and now - I'm supposed to deliberately let someone - no, PAY someone - to make my vagina like a virgins'? I'll digress to virginity in the next paragraph. NO WAY am I doing any of that. Guess what, everybody? We're going to get old!!!! We're going to die!!!! Nothing will stop those two processes. Well, you could die, like, tomorrow, and then you wouldn't grow old. er. And have you seen Joan Rivers lately? Please, stay away from her plastic surgeon!!!! And get her into rehab! Poor Melissa.

Back to virginity. So this vaginal surgery is supposed to make you a virgin again. I got news for ya. Ain't gonna happen. Virginity is more a state of mind than scalpel. So a prostitute who's had, say, 500 "clients" (and I use the term kindly) has this surgery, and she's all pure, virginal, and schoolgirl innocent? Not that schoolgirls are so innocent anymore, but you know what I mean. Nah. The body will always carry evidence ("Follow the evidence!"). It's the soul that can be made brand-new. Been there. Had it done. The soul-washing, not the 500 clients. God can make the prostitute white as snow, but the surgeon can't. The soul lives forever, the body doesn't.

My. I must have ADD! All this deep thought from a yoga mat.

Sleep well.

Blog Initiation

OK, Hello!

This is my first public blog, I guess, not counting Livejournal. But that's a journal. This is a blog. Get it? I'm not sure I do.

I'm not even sure if I have anything worth reading. Time will tell. And I have no idea how often my muse will visit and prompt me to do this. You may be reading an "only" blog. How sad would that be? Don't answer, please.

Anyway, here's my so-far story: I am a registered nurse, advanced practice. I work in a clinic. I have been happily married for 26 years. To the same man! Now, that's rare, huh? I have three kids. Their father is my husband!!! More rareness!! They're all in college. Can you spell b-r-o-k-e? My children exist to remind me that I am lame. So I guess I'm normal. Most importantly, I identify myself as one in Christ.

But I spent this morning not in church, but at a local walk-in clinic. My 18 year-old daughter, the one who most reminds me of my lamenesstocity (a word her brother coined) has had a low-grade fever for 11 days. I can't treat her, since she's not my patient. And besides, there's that "A doctor who treats himself has a fool for a patient" caveat, even though I'm not a doctor. So we sat in the lobby for an hour and forty minutes, listening to nasty coughs and a mother who controlled her 15 month old daughter by saying, when she wandered away, "Destiny! I'm leaving! Bye!," causing the little girl to toddle back to mama. Three times I heard this! I did take the opportunity to whisper to the child at one visit, "Your mother is a jerk!" Even my daughter laughed. But we were hard up for humor.

After we finally saw the doc, she checked Whiner's ears and throat and said she looked fine, but might have mono. We have to wait til tomorrow for blood work. Tune in tomorrow (or three to five days from now) for the exciting conclusion!!!

So we bought two pizzas from the restaurant where she works on the way home and had a bacchanalian feast. Yay, margherita pizza! Yay that my husband and son don't like it so there's more for Whiner and me!!!

Catch you later, if you're there.