Our Little Corner of the World

I've pretty much convinced myself that everyone has stopped reading the dog blog, but I kept writing everyday anyway. Missy and I are destined to leave Spokane one of these days. It is our home for now but it won't be forever. Our forever home on earth is here on this blog. It has became our little corner of the world. This is my life, right here in writing. The blog has also become my safe place, my therapist, and my to do list. So here's my blog theme song. I thought I'd share it with you today. I hope every time you hear it you think of the Missaroo and me. I love you all. Especially you guys who aren't reading this.

"Don't cry because it's over.
Smile because it happened."

- Dr. Seuss

Friends, Still, Hopefully Always

Tonight I had dinner with my friend Tim. It's the first time we've ever gone out as just friends before. It was awkward greatness. I had a fairly decent time and I think he did too. I tried to get caught up on his life as much as he would tell me and I blanked on mine. I was nervous. I was actually shaking a little right before he came in the door of the restaurant. Mostly because I haven't had to look at him for that long in months and I just wasn't sure how well I would do with it. But I felt like I've been ready for a while.  

I had called him earlier in the afternoon to see if he wanted to grab a meal or a drink sometime between then and next week possibly. I was actually surprised when he even answered the phone. I had a whole "leave a message" speech all planned out. He agreed and said tonight would actually work out best. It worked for me too so we made a plan and met for dinner.

We laughed a little, brought up a few old times, and tried to get caught up on each others lives. I think it might have felt a bit forced to him, especially on my part, especially toward the end. I actually had an entire list of things I wanted to talk to him about and I didn't even bring up one of them. I wanted to text him as soon as I got home to tell him sorry for the awkwardness and I'd do better next time, but I didn't.

Here's what was great about it. I did the friends things. I felt like his friend, I liked being his friend and I think in time I'll be a much less awkward friend. I've never been able to be friends with someone I've felt like that about before. I've always thrown such unbelievable out of body witch moments that they've called me crazy and called it a day. They can't ever forgive me working through my process of forgiving them, except for Tim.

This blog, this journey, every adventure for the Missaroo and me, it's felt like a lifetime. And we've learn more life lessons than I ever felt possible in less than 5 months time. We've come a really, really long way. Today was the exclamation point. 5 months ago I had a lot of fears. 6 months ago I had a lot more. Now I'm fearless in so many ways, but here's what I'm afraid of: Tim will leave here and we won't be friends anymore. That's why I called him today. I was thinking about all the amazing people in my life who have made it better, made me better and all of those people I do a horrible job of keeping track of. He's not good at that either but I don't want him to let me fall through the friendship cracks and I don't want the same thing to happen to him either. I want to get back to the point where he trusts me. We lost that along the way and that was totally my doing. We'll never be more than friends again but I want to be friends and don't actually have a lot of those. Three in fact, in all of Washington. Molly, Kristen, Tim.

Sicky McSickerson

WARNING: Probably our grosses blog yet. Don't read while eating.

Missy is sick, again. This time it's a gastrointestinal bacteria. It all started Monday night. I thought she was just too full of energy and being a pain in the butt. It looked like she wanted to play, pulling out every one of her toys but not actually chasing after them when I threw them. Then she started biting my blanket and trying to pull it off of me. When she barked, I knew she had to go potty. So I took her downstairs but she didn't have to go potty, and it wasn't energy she was full of. That should have been clue one something wasn't right.

When we got back up to the apartment, she practically passed out on the couch right away. That should have been clue two something was wrong. About an hour later I headed to bed and she didn't follow. She was still passed out on the couch. This should have been the glaring, red flashing light that something was wrong. But nope, I'm dense or at least a bad dog mom.

At 1am she woke me up to go outside. At 3am she woke me up to go outside. At 6am she threw up in my bedroom. I cleaned it up, fed her and went out into the living room to open up the blinds for her. That's when I saw she pooped on the carpet not very far from where she was sleeping all night. That one hit me over the head like a ton of bricks. The Missaroo is a SICK DOG and not in the cool ghetto "yo yous be a sick dog, dog" kinda way. Then I started to clean up that. Missy laid under the bed. Then I got ready and at 7am we where at the vet making an appointment. Now she is on anti-biotic and a special canned, bland dog food for about a week. It should clear itself up.

So what happened? The vet's guess is that she got into something. But what? She doesn't chew anything she's not suppose to. The kitchen garbage is covered. The bathroom garbage had been dumped. I think it came from daycare. There's no way to prove it but at home she's either in the crate or with me. The only time I don't know where she is or what she's doing is at daycare. She could have snagged something on a walk, but would it really be enough to make her this sick? The thought from the vet is it could have been in water she drank.... hmmm.... like the open buckets of shared water she drinks from at daycare perhaps????

The thing is Missy and I LOVE daycare. She looks forward to going and bolts down the hallway there to see her buds. I love not feeling so guilty for getting basic things done during the day like read for class, clean, or get my hair done. I'll call them today and talk it over with them. We'd both be sad to leave daycare but Missaroo is vaccinated through the roof and she's still getting sick every couple of months. I don't want nor can I afford a Sicky McSickerson that often.

Missy Survives the 4th

The message of the Missaroo this 4th of July was furry friends and fireworks don't mix. It really is true and I've actually heard more pets run away from home on the 4th than any other day of the year. You wouldn't have known it from watching the Missaroo last night. She didn't even seem to notice anything out of the norm. BUT where we live you couldn't even see any fireworks and what you could hear sounded awfully far away. No one was lighting off fireworks here at the apartment complex and the big shows downtown were too far away.

I wasn't sure how the Missaroo was going to do last night. I thought about maybe heading out and watching the fireworks at the Spokane Indians game at Avista Stadium. I ended up staying late at work and just wanted to go home to Missy instead. I'm really bummed I didn't get to see the fireworks since the 4th of July is one of my favorite holidays, but I don't regret being here with Miss either. I'd like to say I made it into a fun holiday for us like I have in the past with coloring Easter eggs on our own or setting up the world's saddest Christmas tree. But this time I didn't. I didn't even buy hot dogs and pretend we were on a picnic. What a bad dog mom I am. We did sing before bed however, but nothing patriotic. Instead we sang "This little light of mine" and my personal favorite, "You are my sunshine."

The funny part of the night happened on our walk. Missy saw some very small flags along a yard in the neighborhood behind us. She didn't really know what to make of them. She went to bark at the first one and then realized there was a whole row of them. She jumped in between two of them and then decided to walk on the other side of the sidewalk. I love my curious Missy. Hope everyone had a safe and happy holiday. We did, even in our own small way.

Don't Fight It Missaroo

Missaroo and I have been BEYOND tired lately. We've been getting up early and staying up late. Most nights it feels like we're only been getting naps in. It's been a combination of long walks with Missy, walking everywhere to save on gas money in general, playtime in the apartment together, more days at daycare for her, plus school and homework for me, oh and there's that place I spend about 50 hours at called work. We're not complaining, we're just pooped. May nights we find ourselves falling asleep in the chair or on the couch. One night I was up late again working at the computer and Missy was trying to stay by my side under the desk. Sometimes she just heads for her doggie bed, but on this particular night she tried to toughen it out. I commend her effort, but when the sleepy bug comes, don't fight it Missaroo....

"Sorry" No You're Not

I hate when people throw out "sorry" as a forgive-all type of word. It reminds me of two year olds who learn to say please. They use it all the time in hopes it will get them something, not because it's the polite thing to say. This trend seems to stick with some adults in the form of "sorry." They say it, but they don't really mean it. I remember when I was a kid and I would try to throw around the word "sorry." An un-sincere "sorry" got no where with my mom. She would often reply back, "Yeah, sorry you got caught." Or "If you were truly sorry, you wouldn't have done it in the first place." Now I often times find myself at least thinking, if not saying the very same thing. Here's my dog mom example:

Missy and I were trapped the other day. We were walking along when we spotted two large dogs ahead of us who wanted to eat Missy. Missy being not-so-smart wanted to try and eat them right back. No matter how you cut it, it was bad news bears all around. We crossed the street and with the "dog mom grip of death" I walked her out of there. But then a little small yippie dog came barreling down the street from the other direction at us. Missy wanted to eat that one too. We couldn't turn around toward the big dogs, we couldn't move forward because of the small dog, and there were houses to either side. We were trapped.

Following a little too far away from the yippie dog was what appeared to be the owner, or at least the adult who seemed to be taking responsibility for the escapee. He wasn't calling after the dog, nope just running. When he got to the dog and picked it up, he said "sorry." I didn't reply but what I was thinking was, "No you're not, or you wouldn't of let the dog out in the first place."

I think by now we all know my biggest pet peeve is dogs not on leashes. I also hate owners who think opening up the door to let your pet pee is properly caring for the dog. No matter what, I don't for one instant accept this man's apology. I didn't even get an "I'm sorry." Just "Sorry." And maybe that's what I really should have said, "apology unaccepted, next time use a leash."     

Sick as a Dog

Today, it wasn't even 7am and I woke up to the sound of Missy throwing up in my bed. The ironic part is I rolled over at about 6am and realized she never came to bed the night before. She slept out in her doggy bed like an actual dog for once! Then she got sick as a dog.

Missy threw up on the bed and then on the floor. Good thing I bought the dog stain remover spray at Shopko a while back. I used A LOT of it. Then I stripped the bed. Comfort, sheets, and even the mattress pad need to be washed. After that I made sure she had food and water and then took my poor little girl to pee. She always looks so sad after she throw ups. I tell her it's OK, she's still a good girl. But I think the sound of the spray bottle tells her otherwise. I checked her nose, could be wetter ((or is it more wet?? that's one I struggle with grammatically)). We then relocated to the couch.

Missy is still on the couch. I didn't hear a peep out of her after the throw up. Which tells me she's either really tired, or really not feeling good. The fact that I've written an entire blog and she hasn't come over yet even to put her head on my lap  tells me she's not the usual spunky Missaroo I write about. She didn't get into anything her last night I know that. She was at daycare all day and then came home, ate, chewed her bone, and laid on me the rest of the night until she went into her doggie bed. Plus I cleaned from top to bottom so there's nothing she could have gotten into. I might give daycare a call and see if she got into something there. But I'm hoping it's just another case of puker mcpukerson striking again.