Si Se Puede.

Since the election, I've had a blog post I've been wanting to write, although somewhere along the way, I ran out of time and steam. It was going to be honest and proud and offer the question of "what the hell were you thinking" to some of the people whose comments I've been less than impressed by in the moments since Obama's win. I was going to say that I was even growing weary of the "change" anthem until I realized- it's not about a black man or history or civil rights or any of those really, really great things. It's about doing things differently than we've done them in the past. It's about hope, which is something this country really, really needs. In case you haven't noticed, we're in the shitter, both domestically and in the eyes of the rest of the world. And frankly, that's not where the "greatest country in the world" is supposed to be. Maybe "hope" to some is about a black man, but to me, he's a leader who realizes what a daunting task he has in front of him. And it's hope for my unborn child to be born into a country with the future on its side. So, be you a red or a blue, I think we can all agree that things need to change around here. There's that word again- which I guess is why it's been so over-used in this election. Like I told my husband, there's four years locked up now for things to go differently and it's not going to be easy. But democrats have been in control before and guess what- the world didn't stopped turning. It's just one term- four years- and then the republicans can have another shot. Even if you didn't vote for him (and I know some of you passionately did not), he's "going to be your president too". (I just loved that part of the speech.) I voted for Barak Obama- there, I said it. I don't even care if you think that I am the anti-christ for falling for his pretty speeches. I needed something to believe in and for me, he's the man for the job. Me and Obama- Anti-Christs for change.

Somehow in my 28+ years on this earth, I've became a very tolerant person. I understand that some people don't think the way I do and that a lot of people prefer to live with blinders on to the fact that there are other, valid ideas out there than the ones in their narrow little minds. I'm cool with "disagreeing without being disagreeable". I don't force my ideas on anyone, nor do I condemn anyone for their beliefs. However, being tolerant doesn't mean I haven't been angered, shocked and so disappointed in comments I've heard and read by friends, family and acquaintances over this election. That's all I'm going to say, but if you think I'm talking about you, I probably am. Angered. Shocked. Disappointed.

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So, look at that, I managed to make my intended post by accident. Now I'll get to my real reason for writing today.

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Yesterday I took the day off to take some pictures of my best childhood girlfriend's family while she was in town. I didn't actually have to do that til afternoon, so I took Kit (She's a seven and a half yr old Cocker Spaniel) to the vet first thing yesterday morning. Let me back up and say that she and I had a really bad night Wednesday and I'm embarrassed and ashamed of the way I treated her all because her poor ears were giving her fits. I've treated her like a step-child and that stopped yesterday because I knew my sanity was in danger. Not to mention her life if she didn't stop with the damn dars. So, we made it to the office about 9:30 and didn't leave until 11:30. At least an hour+ of that time was spent with the doctor- this can't bode well, right? Right. It had been several years since she got her shots or had a checkup of any kind, so I told them to give me the full meal deal. Let's just start by saying the only good news I heard was that she didn't have worms. It all goes downhill from there. She needs her teeth cleaned due to some "significant tarter build up and gingivitis", but even that wasn't a big priority by the end of the appointment. Her ears were "typical cocker ears" and while she didn't have mites, she had a pretty raging infection and irreversable damage. So, we're doing a 10 day clean and treat with antibiotics and then we'll go back to see if he can actually see her ear drums. She's also on steroids to reduce the swelling in there. I know she hates the cleanings (which I've successfully done on my own twice now, thankyouverymuch!) but it's for her own good, dammit. Now comes the BEST (read worst) news of the appointment. He started rubbing on her "undercarriage" and all of her glorious 10 (or 13 if you count the strays) titties. He started feeling lumps- or nodules- as he called them, on her the left side. And as nonchalantly as if he were talking about the weather he says, "Yep. That's probably cancer." Now there I was trying my best to love that dog as my own and make her understand that I was really sorry for getting so mad at her the night before and he has to go throw out "CANCER"? Dammit all to hell.

So, I told her daddy last night over the phone so he'd know what to expect when I start asking him what the hell he wants to do. The vet recommends bloodwork and a chest X-ray to see if it spread to her lungs or liver, then surgery to remove it. It will then be biopsied to see if it was the agressive kind or the kind that stays in the mammaries. Adn then.... Ugh. And again I say, Ugh.

Needless to say, I'm not really having a hard time loving her right now. We bonded in that exam room sometime between having her blood drawn and having her ears cleaned and being told she has cancer, just like any other woman could. She needed me in those moments to keep her calm and safe and she counted on me to make sure of it. Once we got home, she was my shadow and hasn't stopped. She's forgiven me and shown that she loves me even though I'm a crazy hormonal bitch. And she still respects my authori-tie.

So there's my news. Our dog has cancer.

Of mice and men... er, whatever.

Sunday morning, C got up early to go do an emergency work thing and by early, I mean 6:30am. I had a pounding headache thanks to my perma-stopped up sinuses, so I rolled over so they would drain to the other side and promptly went back to sleep. I got up about 10:00 and went to let the dogs out to potty. In our house, Kit (his dog) sleeps on a bed at the end of the hallway, outside our door. She's pretty and perfect, just like a Mexican sunrise and can't be too far from her daddy or she'll go into this pitiful, mournful cry. And it pisses me off, so her right outside the door is the best we could do (and I can still hear her snoring like a Mack truck). Anyway, Shiner has his kennel set up in this little office cubby between the living room and laundry room, with doors to each. It's a pass through of sorts, and his kennel is set up under the desk.

So, Sunday. I open the kennel, then open the back door and out they go. That's when I smelled it. The poo. My precious little angel of a dog had taken two dinosaur shits in his kennel and also puked twice in the corners. Nice. That's when I realized it was time for him to become an outside dog. Or maybe it was when I was scraping up the poo with a paper towel. Or when I almost threw up while flushing it. It might have been when I was hosing off the bottom of his kennel outside and his puke slid off in one piece into the grass. *barf*

When my love returned home around 11:30, I informed him of what he'd missed and what our task for the day would be. Operation dog house.

Let me tell a little backstory. (Forgive my rambling, because I get my storytelling skills from my mother who cannot tell a good story to save her life.) Just after we moved into the new house, C began a campaign to make Shiner an outside dog. He's a Boston Terrier for pete's sake- he's not made to be an outside dog! I cried. I blamed hormones. My heart broke into a thousand pieces each time he cocked his head to the side and looked at me through the door not understanding why he couldn't come in. And so, he stayed outside during the day but came inside to sleep once it got dark. You know, so the boogie man wouldn't get him. C relented, grumbling. His point is that he sheds something terrible and if we're going to bring a child into this world, it did NOT need the additional aggravation of Shiner-hair on it's sinuses and neither did we. I knew he was right, but my emotions were just too much.

Fast forward to Sunday morning. Those heartbreaking feelings were stifled by the smell of his shit and I no longer cared if he would be scared at night. He was going outside and I had no remorse. Poor little devil. So, he became the proud owner of a super cool, rain resistant "lounging space" that is cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter thanks to the "structural foam". All I know is that effer cost me $100 and he damn well better LOVE it.


That being said, guess where he slept last night? On a pile of moving blankets on the back porch, when he slept, that is. He was up and down barking at every. single. noise. til the sun started to come up. C claims he doesn't need a soft bed in there because it's the summer time and the plastic bottom feels good. Me? I think he's just like everyone else- who doesn't want a soft place to lay their head at night?

So, the saga continues. What do y'all think? Will he tough it out? Will he continue to look pitiful at the door waiting for Mom to save him? Will he turn into Snoopy and turn his dog house into a castle? Only time will tell, I guess.

Snoopy!

I must say, I'm pretty proud of the Beagle taking best in show at the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show. After all, isn't he the cutest?



HERE are pictures of the other winners. I'm sure my Shiner would've blown them all out of the water. Riiiiiiight.

I stopped and got donuts this morning for work. I can't tell you the last time I had a donut-- wait, yes I can, it was the week before Christmas. Anyway, I digress. I LOVE blueberry cake donuts the best and the little shop I stopped at had them! Hooray! I seriously must join a gym.

I don't enjoy Bob Dylan doing Bob Dylan. I enjoy other people singing his songs, I just can't get into him. I have some friends who are STOKED about seeing him in concert and I am very happy for their excitement, but, I'm equally as glad that I wasn't invited. :)

The procrastination of my boyfriend and I continues. We failed to get dinner reservations for Valentines day. Last year, he attempted to place an order for roses THE DAY BEFORE VALENTINE'S DAY. This year, he called for reservations yesterday, but it was still too late. Maybe by next year we'll have our proverbial shit together and actually do everything we're supposed to do on the correct day. But, we're still going out for a nice dinner this weekend. I shouldn't complain, should I?

It's cold again. Bah.

I need a haircut again. Double bah.

Oh yeah:


Happy hump day, y'all.

distraction

• I'm super excited about the new season of Tori and Dean: Inn Love . Yes, we're myspace friends. No, I don't like pugs.


• No, I'm not going to Idaho. And no, I don't want to talk about it.


• Josh Grider listening party Thursday at 7:30 on Galleywinter . The new cd will rock your socks off!


• No luck on a job yet. I have a call tomorrow though.


• Since when do weddings require dates? I figure, if you're not comfortable enough to go by yourself, maybe you should consider not going.


• Yes, I'm still in a funk over my relationship. I listened to my Joel Osteen podcasts on the way home though and felt much better though- a renewed faith. Until this evening.


• I really need to learn how to communicate effectively.


• I am not a groupie. I don't care what you or anyone else says, or even if you're joking.


• I do not like drama.


• My mother has a new bathroom and it's probably the swankest one I've ever been in. If only she'd do something about the paneling in the room joining the "beachy", tiled bathroom. "But it's pecan! It was expensive!"


• I'm tired of driving.


• I don't know how my dog got so sweet. Not a mean bone in his body, I tell ya.

Proof that beer is bigger in (East) Texas:
Jealous, aren't you?

I guess that's why they call it the blues..

It's a quiet place here without ol Shiner. This morning, I took him to the vet and it snowballed into him keeping him overnight. He's had the shits for two days- mornings actually. I'll spare the details, but it hasn't been smelling too much like roses around here. His poor little butt's been in a bind! And, to make matters worse, he threw up on the floor of the vet's office. That's what encouraged him to keep him for the day- and then the night. He said he could give me something for his butt- but not unless he quit throwing up, which he didn't. So, I'm worried about my pup- less about his sickness and more about him being all alone tonight, away from home, not in a soft bed and surrounded by other dogs he can't play with. Poor little feller. I've told everyone I know, "If you think you want kids, get a dog first. It'll make you or break you." It's times like these I sure do love and miss his stinky self.

Good thing I haven't bought my ticket for Idaho yet.. I just may be broke by the time I'm done with this vet visit. Since I know I'm going to get questions (and comments) about not buying my ticket, I guess I procrastinated too long because a round trip ticket is now well over $400 for when I want to fly. Last year, my whole trip was about $500. So, I'm depressed and checking flights every day hoping for a sudden drop in prices. I won't give up til the day we're supposed to leave, though! More than anything, I hate all the laughs I'm likely to miss with my best girlfriends, but they'll laugh without me.. and I'll live.

**UPDATE**
I just talked to the vet, and Mr. Shiner is much better. His bloodwork did show some infection, but he responded well to the medication and his butt is functioning normally. YAY!

Two things I love.

This man:


And this pup: