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Morning Manatees, Royal magic and cheesecake
Good Morning to you, good morning to you.
We’re all in our places
With sunshiny faces,
and this is the way
to start a new day!
I beg to differ. My face feels like a handful of sand was tossed at it by a drunken Sandman. He did get some granules in my eyes – that must be why they’re sore and grainy.
OR … or … it could be that my dog pulled her ‘there shall be no alarms, who wants to be alarmed? C’mon, I’ll gently rouse you from sleep by creeping around the bed, then staring at you” routine again.
It IS Saturday right? Yes. And yet, at 5am, I was up. Stomping to the front door being led by my manatee with hair.
I’m getting pretty redundant writing about Butters.
I’m thinking of changing my blog name to ‘Musings-from-the-laundromat-about-Butters’ That would pretty much encompass my posts.
So, I am in fact up.
It is what it is. She is what she is. The morning has broken and since I’m too tired to start cleaning it up, I’ll share some exciting news.
It’s not my news. Or is it? If I’m sharing the news – is it technically … oh, never mind.
SO!
I have a brother in the UK. He works at Warner Bros. Well … (she says, like an eager, sparkly eyed gossip) … guess who he got to meet yesterday?
AND … (she leans in closer for effect)
He was the one that got to hand Prince Harry his wand! (If I am to believe my brother-in-law’s post on his wall, which I do.)
Haven’t seen anything on my brothers wall about it yet, but he’s been too busy hob nobbing with Royalty I suppose. I’ll be grilling him soon about all the details. The horse’s mouth will be parched by the time he’s done answering all my questions. Wait, he’ll be typing. Horses hoof?
Pretty cool if you ask me.
I had 2 pieces of cheesecake yesterday. That was pretty much the hi-light of my day.
I had been coveting the cheesecake through a glass door.
There was a meeting going on that was none of my business, but the dessert caught my eye.
It’s who you know people, it’s who you know.
That meeting broke and I had already sent my ‘don’t think I didn’t notice that cheesecake in there’ email to someone who’s business the meeting was.
Dessert tangent. Sorry. Hey – ‘Dessert Tangent’. That would be a great name for a little shop.
Back to my sibling story.
He’s talented too – made Nic and I these wand replicas before he worked there. (Oooo! Foreshadowing!!!!)
Perhaps I can wave one at Butters while saying: Expecto Patronum! That should clear the area of Butters the Demented. Or does that just work on Dementors? Hmmm ….
OR, I could just stick one up her nostril until she gets the hint.
I’ll give it some more thought when my brain wakes up.
*update … Story confirmed and got some other tid bits I can’t share … Also had to remove my brothers name due to strict social media rules. Warner Bros. has a privacy thing with their staff. But let me just play Perez Hilton for a moment and say … One person who was there has an epic imagination ;)*
Sleep deprived Buttery post
I could have sworn it was Saturday this morning. It really ought to have been. Nic was off for ‘April break’. What IS that? And why is it only one day?
Anyway – I slept like a baby last night. Woke up every 2 hours upset with something or another. Not quite screaming.
Drama + Butters + Sinus Tachycardia + son chatting on his ipad = no Z’s.
(I mean, he was seriously chatting – full on – carrying his conversation buddy around the house. In a moment of delirium, I actually thought a girl was in the bloody kitchen with him. Then I sussed it out.)
ANYWAY (she says again, and this time she means it)
My pitter pattering heart has been trying out all kinds of fun new ways to present itself to me lately. ‘Ben Gay like warmth’ feeling … left armpit pain … then last night, it got sassy on the drums … brrrrrrrrm, burr, brrr-bump. And then something in my chest grabbed a tambourine and started showing off.
A friend taught me to cough to get myself back into rhythm – so I lay there, coughing like a dork.
THEN there’s Butters. Oh Butters.
Don’t let this image fool you. She does. not. sleep!
For two weeks or so – every few hours from 9pm until my alarm goes off at 6am (not that it’s had a chance to go off for the last week), she stands inches from my face and whines and wags.
I get up, let her out – and then leave the flipping front door open so she can get back in.
You see the crack? And you’ve seen her nose – so seriously, WHY can’t she ‘nose’ her way back out?!?! She sure as hell can do it when a cat walks w/in a mile of the house.
I might as well just put an ad on Craig’s List inviting any local wackos or serial killers to my insanely unsecure house at night.
“Come on in! Doors open! I’ll just be in my room, trying to sleep. Be as quiet as possible when you kill me.”
Why does she sleep inside? Our fence is chicken wire basically … I think intended for really apathetic, frail chickens. And we have coyotes out and about.
In between the fun excursions to the flipping door – the tiny snatches of sleep I grabbed onto, (which, resulted in nightmares) Waking up to Nic church mousin’ around the house and my heart getting all excited, I woke up (pffft … didn’t really ‘wake up’ so much as ‘give up’) none too pleased.
I tried to have a chat with her.
She didn’t care. She assures me she’ll be doing it tonight too. And the night after that, and the night after that.
And the thought occurred … when she’s older, and not energetic – probably I’ll miss the spry insomniac that she used to be.
Butters vs the chihuahua
Ah Tuesday morning. I’d just waved goodbye to my sick son – feeling a little guilty sending him off to school as stuffy and half awake as he was.
Fed the dog, grabbed some coffee – dressed in a long black skirt, a pink sweater and black knee-high boots.
Plenty of time to relax and play a little Candy Crush on my ipad as I sat outside and enjoyed the breaking dawn.
Chaos erupted.
It sounded like a pretty gnarly dog fight.
Crap. Where’s Butters??
I none so gingerly plonked my ipad onto my wicker table, spilled my coffee and panicked.
What to grab?
What’s going on?
Get the mace???
No … that’s gonna hurt! And let’s face it, since I don’t react too calmly in chaos, probably I’d be the one hurting when I accidentally sprayed myself in the eye instead of the source of the growling and frantic barking.
Big stick. I spied a big stick and grabbed it – bravely and briskly walking toward the ruckus.
Butters was going berserk. Absolutely, totally, kitten on crack crazy over the neighbors chihuahua.
(The only picture I could find related to Chihuahuas and Butter lol)
It had slipped under its fence and was under some illusion that it stood a chance against my 65 lb Sharpei/Sherpherd mix.
It stood (about 7 inches from the ground to the tip of it’s little snack like head) snapping and snarling from the opposite side of my barely-a-fence.
It’s more like chicken wire … big gaping holes that a very small dog could simply walk right through and into the mouth of my dog.
Please know, Butters is by nature a lover, not a fighter.
She gets excited when strange dogs go by – wags her tail and wants to play. Cats – not so much. And what she must have been thinking was “WHY is this cat barking and baring its teeth so close to my territory?!” Meanwhile, she was jumping up on the flimsy ‘fence’ and trying to get at the ‘barking cat’.
My first attempt to separate them resulted in Butters slipping her collar. (Insert Butter joke here _______)
My second attempt, after inserting stick in between dogs, left me with only one option.
Pick up angry, barking, snarling dog and carry her inside.
Remember now, I’m wearing a long black skirt, pink sweater and boots.
Nice.
Sixty-five pounds feels a lot like one hundred and sixty-five pounds when it’s still snapping and wriggling and thrashing it’s hindquarters in an angry tantrum.
I plop her down in the house and catch my breath. My heart is POUNDING. I can not DO exertion. No, seriously, I have sinus tachycardia, and walking up a flight of stairs feels like I’ve run a marathon.
But no time to waste. I have to leave for work in 20 minutes and there’s still the issue of the rat dog.
I exit from the side door, much to Butters chagrin. I hear her miserable pleas as I meet up with the trouble maker outside.
He follows me – rather pleasantly as I head to his house.
“C’mon, let’s get you home.” He trots along beside me.
Now, Chihuahua lives with a friend. Friend is a corgi. Corgi seems nice enough.
I arrive at my neighbors gate and read the ‘Beware of Dog’ sign.
“Well”, I reason, “I’m WITH the dog”.
And corgi is nice.
In I go. Dog is now home and I ring the doorbell to let them know they need to patch the fence so tidbit doesn’t wander into Butterland.
No answer.
But I do now hear the corgi.
Who proceeds to leap up and nip my arse!!!
Keep calm! Dogs can smell fear! Do NOT emit any dog-fear-pheromones!
I ring the bell again.
Nothing.
I now have to make it from the front door – to the gate to exit.
Crap.
The corgi is eyeballing me – and preparing to make another move.
I reach the gate and gently block the attack with my boot and scoot out to safety.
I’m now left with having to patch up the escape route myself.
I’m picking up rocks, pieces of wood – the dogs are at the fence, snapping at my hands when they get too close to their faces.
10 minutes ’til I have to leave for work.
I decide I can’t risk coming home to carnage. Butters will have to stay inside in our absence.
Felt awful all day. Poor thing. Was also praying she would use my bathroom if she couldn’t hold ‘it’. (The tile being easier to clean I mean. Obviously she can’t use the bathroom … I wish!)
Grabbed some ‘U’ fence posts on the way home (kissed $23 goodbye for those) – figured I could at least reinforce the ‘flimsy’ so she couldn’t leap out after the bugger.
Stopped by the neighbors, who still weren’t home, but did get to explain what happened to a friend of theirs who happened to be out front.
Came home, threw off my dog hair covered black skirt and pink sweater and went out to sledgehammer in those posts.
Considered using the hammer another way – but I borrowed it from a friend and don’t want to stick her with evidence.
Santa Paws is coming to town
Ah Christmas Eve! The last advent doors are opened, the baking will be done, the dog is scooting on the carpet. Wait, what?!
Christmas came early for Butters. Apparently Santa Paws may have brought her worms.
Now, I saw her do ‘the scoot’ last night on the deck. “Away from my chair, I flew like a flash, Tore open the front door and …” grabbed a flashlight.
I inspected the ‘scoot’ area – and didn’t see anything to be concerned about.
I needed a closer look. I approached her casually, but I’m certain she could smell the ‘I’m up to something and pretending I’m not’ pheromones coming off of me. I’m certain because she would not let me anywhere near her rear end with that light.
I did manage to sneak a peek at her bum when it was bedtime. Saw a couple of little white specks. Aw – a white Christmas too? How sweet.
This morning I peeked again and didn’t see anything of significance. Okay – a fluke. After all, we’ve had the heater on lately, perhaps she’s just itchy from the dryness?
I’d almost relaxed when she did it again. The scoot.
It’s funny when someone elses dog does it. It’s funny on YouTube. It’s not funny when you’re thinking ‘Oh crap – I can’t afford to take her to the vet!’
**Disclaimer/tangent/interruption** I am of the opinion that if you cannot afford to take care of an animals needs, you should not own a pet. However, Butters found us. She was in our yard one morning, hungry and skittish. I put up signs around the neighborhood, listed her ‘found’ on Craigslist and even had her featured on our local TV station. No one came forward. We then put up signs looking for a home for her. No takers. She’s been with us for over two years now as ‘the pound’ was not an option for us**
Now where were we?
Ah – the worry about the vet. So now I have to know everything about worms. Can they be treated at home? Do you have to know what type of worm in order to do that? Can humans contract the worm?
Answers: Yes, it’s best if you do, yes.
Outside I went – to find her latest ‘waste’. I’ll skip the dissection description – let’s just say it involved a stick and a strong stomach. No worms. Hmmmm. But did see some of those little specks again.
Back inside – I notice something on my freshly brushed couch. Arg! A segment?? I grabbed a sandwich bag and secured the evidence. Back online. Sure looked like a tapeworm segment to me!
Back to Google. Yes, Pet Smart sells worming medicine! Okay! Off we go!
I arrive at the shop and ask the cashier for the ‘dog expert’. I’m given to a woman sporting a pony tail and on a mission. I explain the scoot – I explain the specks. I then lift my little bag out of my pocket and reveal ‘Exhibit A’.
“See, it looks like a sesame seed”.
“It sure does …” she says “It REALLY looks like a sesame seed”.
And then it hits me. As I’m holding the bag high in the air.
The night before – my son and I indulged in a burger we’d seen on TV a few times and promised ourselves we’d get one day.
And just look at all those ‘Segments’ on top.
50 shades of embarrassed.
Still bought the chewable $30 D-Worm, after being reassured that if she doesn’t actually have worms, the medicine will not hurt her.
Came home with my little seed and a funny story – and Butters took her D-Worm like a champ.
She is walking around guarding her butt from me now though. Can’t say I blame her.
**If you suspect your dog has worms, you should address it immediately. The medicine I purchased treats Tapeworms, Roundworms and Hookworms. It’s a one time treatment – re-treat if you see signs that your dog may still have the parasites. As for passing to humans – as long as you keep your fingers out of your mouth, you should be fine. Animals CAN pass the worms onto a human, but it’s not very likely. Wash your hands after touching your pet. Wash your bedding etc. because even though you’re likely safe – your pet can ingest eggs they’ve expelled onto various surfaces and start the cycle again. Lastly, don’t take my word for it – this is information I found as I can’t afford a visit to a vet – but a vet is always the best resource for anything wrong with your furry friend!
As promised – adorable kitteh pictures
So we’re breaking up the tone of my recent serious post streak with an adorable cat. (Of course, I have to ruin it by pointing out this is P.J. the cat I mentioned in ‘The Stained Ceiling’ that I had to have put to sleep December 23rd 2011).
Here he is just being adorable …
And here ‘Peej’ (as we called him around here) is Karate cat!
But he wasn’t just adorable fluff and an epic poser – he was a great hunter! Seriously, he brought a live pigeon into my house over the river – through an open downstairs window. The pigeon made it – this lizard, not so lucky.
Then Butters showed up and adopted us. He took it in stride.
We still miss and love you Peej. x
Debauchery Soup 