Old Man Dogs

The last few weeks have been packed full with activities, and I’ve had a blast. There was the CPR class, the wine trail, and a canvas painting party. Somewhere in there, my dad had surgery, and that’s where today’s story begins. But, don’t worry; I’ll get to the rest of it at a later date. I may even have pictures!

Dad had surgery to fix his shoulder. He, and his shoulder, are doing well. He just had the stitches taken out this week, in fact. He spent several days home, and noticed something about my old man dog, Copper. Copper was having trouble getting up the porch steps.

Of course, after it was pointed out to me, I couldn’t help but notice him struggling when he turned around and when he was walking. I knew about him having trouble standing; my boy is old. His steps were no longer surefooted. He seemed to hesitate every couple of steps. Occasionally, his legs would look weak, like they were going to give out on him. I watched him all of last weekend.

Monday, I called the Vet. I couldn’t decide if he was just old, or is something more serious was going on. About half the time, he looked like he just couldn’t see where he was placing his feet.

Have you ever had an experience that was both better and worse than you were anticipating? If not, it’s the oddest feeling. That’s what happened yesterday at the Vet. Copper is a pretty stoic dog. If it’s just me and him, he’ll relax. He’ll show his hurts. He’ll limp. He’ll whine. He’ll be pitiful around me, and sometimes my dad. Unless he’s feeling very bad that is.

Copper was horrendously abused when I got him. He was terrified of everything. You name it, and he was scared of it. I worked with him for three or four years before he buddied up to my dad. Now, the only things that really bother him are the cat, storms, and bathrooms. But, a couple of days ago, I stubbed my toe on the baby’s step stool, and he came into the bathroom to check on me. He wasn’t happy about it, but he did it without prompt.

The Vet, not our usual vet, checked him over. She checked out his back, and he yelped at two spots. He has arthritis in his hips and his back, as well as a pretty bad heart murmur. The arthritis, though, is awful. It’s already causing his hips to lock up. He’s losing muscle mass in one leg. His back, though, is the real worry. The arthritis is causing problems along his spine.

I’ve been told that it’s pretty much a waiting game. He could just randomly slip a disk and be unable to walk. If that were to happen, he would need surgery, which would be dangerous because of his age and his heart. The vet gave him an anti-inflammatory, as well as a joint supplement, which they had to order. I’m starting him on the anti-inflammatory tonight. It won’t be fun. I’ve never had a dog so adept at not taking medicine before.

My Coppy Dog has gotten old on me. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.

Two Days In One

I signed up for the Photo 101 class, and, like usual, I’m running behind. So, you get two days at once! Whoo! Mostly, I’m running behind because the emails come in late in the evening when it’s almost dark, so no picture taking for me!

 

Assignment 1, Home:

My home will always be the small farm that I’ve lived on for most of my life. Even when I was living in the apartment with my best friend, it wasn’t home. I look forward to coming home and sitting down every evening. The place is beautiful in all seasons. As a matter of fact, the picture at the top of my blog, is part of the backyard before we built the goat pen. It’s one of my favorite pictures.

Home is also several people. I wasn’t at all sure how I was going to represent home, so I just started clicking around as I tried not tripping over the toddler following me around. I came in to look at the pictures, and found a home. I’ve spent a lot of time in this building during all kinds of weather, with all kinds of animals.

This was a storage building that was turned into a chicken coop, and then repurposed into a goat barn. The intention is to turn it back into a specialized chicken coop so I can start breeding and hatching babies! I miss the chickens.

I’ve always wanted to hatch eggs, too, and now, I’m going to have that opportunity. We’re getting back into the egg business! The sun is shining directly over top of the hut, and when I saw the picture, it made me smile.

 

Assignment 2, Street

This is my very small road. I’ve lived here for pretty much as long as I can remember. There was a small break to move into an apartment a few years ago. I did, but came home pretty much every weekend.

One time, I had just gotten a pairof roller blades. A friend of mine was teaching me how to use them, but she didn’t teach me how to stop. I went flying down this hill and crashed into the ditch at the bend in the road.

 

 

 

 

Also! Bonus picture! These two were just t0o cute not to include! Yes, this is my daughter, and my old man dog, Copper. Bless his poor heart. He honestly, just wants to be left alone, and she worries him to death, despite my best efforts to stop her.

A Quick Update

Two weeks of hexagon planning, a week of job hunting(the potential for a new one fell in my lap), and three days of air purifier research. My brain has turned to mush, and it’s starting to melt. But good news!

I created my own hexagon pattern based off of two other patterns. Well, in reality, I just kind of smashed them together, and it still didn’t work. I figured out how to make it work yesterday. I’ve made four hexagons with my pattern. Three of them are my planners, to see if I can connect them successfully. The fourth hexagon the high temp for January first. I only did it because the pale yellow was starting to get on my nerves. I have a stack of failure about three inches high. I’m guessing, because I haven’t actually stacked and measured them, but there are a lot of hexagons floating about the table.

A potential new job. Last week (maybe the week before) my cousin sends me a message saying her friend’s place of employ is looking to hire. It’s working with animals. I told her to hook me up with the info. I currently sit at a desk and stare at a computer. While I have a lot of freedom, it’s somewhat unsatisfying, but I do, actually like the job. I’ve done two interviews at the new place, and I’m hoping to hear back from them in a couple of days. My fingers are crossed.

Abby has started having nose bleeds. Yay… So, I’ve started looking at air purifiers again. I’ve discovered an amazing amount of new words, that I’m pretty sure don’t actually mean anything. But, I’ve narrowed it down to three. I think. At the moment. Like I said, brain is melting, so that could change when my eyes uncross. If you have recommendations, please let me know!

Hexagons Are Hard!

I’m still quite determined to use them, else all that math has gone to waste. What a shame that would be. Over the last four days, I’ve tried two different patterns, and found a third.

The first pattern is absolutely beautiful. It’s simple, nothing splashy about it, but it’s so gorgeous. No matter what I tried, it came out lopsided. No amount of tweaking made a difference. Sigh… On to pattern two. The second pattern looked easy, but the steps made no sense to me.

I set the hook and yarn down, as it’s way past my bedtime, and I’ll look at it again tomorrow. My third attempt will be with a video tutorial. Hopefully, that will do it.

Temperature Blanket 2016

A Temperature Blanket is a project that takes all year to make. You work on it a little every day. You have a range of temperatures that correspond to a specific color. You match the high temperature of every day to the appropriate range and knit or crochet a row of your blanket. It’s a simple concept.

I discovered both crocheted hexagons and temperature blankets on Friday. I quickly fell in love and had to have a hexagonal temperature blanket. On Saturday I bought my yarn in shades of blue, purple, and greens. I daydreamed of a gorgeous hexagonal blanket to wrap myself by the end of the year. Alas, like all good love stories, it was not to be so simple.

366 days will not make a hexagonal blanket easily. My heart fractured a little bit. My father, indulging me, did some insane math* last night. I must craft difficultly, so this is not unusual. We figured it out. Me doing the design, and him telling me if the numbers would work. It will, after a little finagling.

My beautiful blanket isn’t possible, but another one is. 378 hexagons will make a rectangular blanket. I get to keep my hexagons and my temperature blanket. 366 for each day plus 12 for the months(one at the end of each month as a spacer).

The hardest part, after the designing, was deciding which color would go with the range of temperatures. I used just a general one I found off Pinterest. Luvey and my mother, decided where each color would go. This is what we came up with (in case you can’t read my handwriting):

• 89F and above: Purple
• 78F to 88F: Grape
• 67F to 77F: Pagoda
• 54F to 66F: Blue Mint
• 44F to 53F: Country Blue
• 33F to 43F: Orchid
• 23F to 32f: Dark Country Blue
• Below 22F: Soft Blue

Not pictured are Grey for the border and Off White for the 12 extra hexagons. Now all I need to do is learn how to make hexagons.

 

 

 

 

 

*By insane, I mean INSANE!!! Dad does craft math for me frequently. Last night was significantly worse than usual. It took about a half hour, with me going, “Well what if we did it this way?” Math, math, math, me going, “I don’t understand. Why won’t it work? What if we did it this way?” I’m fairly certain he wasn’t too happy with me.

Exciting News!!!

Me: Is Auntie Luvey having a girl or boy?

Abby: A little teeny baby tato(potato) ship(chip)!

Me: But is it a girl or a boy?

Abby: Ship, Mommy! Is a baby tato ship!

Me: Alright, fine, it’s a chip.

Abby: Boy tato!

Me: I think it’s nap time for mommy.

This was a conversation held between me and Abby last night as I was trying to put her to bed. That’s right. My best friend is pregnant, and she’s having a Potato Chip, which I will be calling Tato Ship. Baby will be here sometime between the end of April and the end of May, depending on if you believe the doctors or not.

Since the moment we found that Luvey was pregnant, we’ve been asking Abby the sex of the baby. She, Abby, is scary good at knowing things. She has maintained, for the most part, that the baby will be a boy. We will all be surprised when baby is born.

I am completely ecstatic! Do you know how many cute little baby things there are too make? I’m currently working on a stack of washcloths and, hopefully, some burp cloths. Not to mention all the adorable little hats and socks I could make!

I will be posting pictures as I finish things.

Heartbreaking

A few years ago, for my birthday, I was given two goats. A white female and a black male with a white stripe on his belly. I named them Willa and Zane. Willa being the female, and Zane being the male. In the natural course of things, they had two babies. Beautiful girls, a blond and white one we named Honey, and a tan, white, and black one we named Dapple. I adored these goats.

Honey when she was old enough, had babies of her own. In a tragic accident, they didn’t make it. She became sick and didn’t make it either. Dapple and Willa also lost their babies. It was a rough winter that year. Some time later, Zane fell ill and didn’t make it, and I took in another little boy goat, Mercury. He was black, grey, silver, and white. He was the sweetest little thing.

Abby LOVED the goats as much as I did. She would help me take care of them. They were so gentle with her. They’d follow her, eat from her hand, and let her tug and pull on them. They loved her, too.

Last October, both Willa and Dapple became sick and died. They’d gotten into some bad feed before I could get rid of it. It was a long several weeks of me trying to make them well. In the end, it didn’t help. That left me with Mercury. My poor, poor little Mercury. He was left all alone, and he was not happy.

He became very ill very quickly on Halloween last year. It started as a runny nose and a limp. This was nothing serious. He loved to climb and jump. He’d pulled muscles before, and we were hit with a sudden cold spell. By the time we came home from our little party, only three or four hours later, he had progressed. He was out of his mind. I spent the next hours in the pouring rain, keeping him in the yard. Every time I’d touch him, he’d panic. If you’ve never heard a goat scream from sheer terror and fright, there’s no way to describe it. It sounds nothing like the Taylor Swift song with goats.

He would be put down in the morning, if he made it that long. Sometime in the middle of the night, he’d managed to get caught in the neighbor’s rosebush across the fence. It was a miracle I’d found him, and a miracle, he was still alive. It took me, my dad, and my younger brother, to retrieve him. He was put down only a few minutes later.

Abby is only two. She still talks about how she wants to take care of the goats. How she wants to see Willa and Dapple and Mercury. I don’t think she remembers Zane. She wants to feed them. She wants to pet them. And it breaks my heart.

A Bog!

Abby has been really clingy lately. So much so, that I had to stop writing in the dining room and move into the bedroom to write on my “bog.”

Daycare drop offs have become increasingly difficult, too. She’s excited to go daycare. She’s excited to see her friends. She’s excited to see her teachers. She’s less excited to see me leave. Kisses, hugs, and assurances that I will come pick her up have to be repeated multiple times before I can leave. Most of the time, she still wails. Occasionally, she’s fine. She wants to know where I’m at all times.

This weekend she’s going to her other grandmother’s house. I’ll either be met halfway, or I’ll be driving all the way out there and dropping her off. But the drop off is going to suck big time. At least until I’m out of sight, and then she will be fine. Like nothing is wrong. If I call and she hears my voice, or someone says mentions me, all hell breaks loose.

In other, less realistic news: Did you know that the weather is affected by my best friend’s eating habits? We discovered this today. Apparently, because Luvey has eaten, it’s gotten colder outside her home.

This was discovered when I called her to help with my creative constipation. We also discovered that the baby say “bog” as opposed to “blog”, and it may be the cutest thing ever. Of course, we say that every time she blinks or breathes or looks at us. We may be a little biased.

But now you know who to blame the weather on when it doesn’t go your way.

For My Daddy

My father, Henry, just read my entire blog, last night. He “complained” that he wasn’t mentioned by name. There, remedied that! Are you happy now?

Coppy Dog

My old man dog, Copper, has started having trouble eating dog food (and cat food). Which leaves me three options: 1) I try to mush up his regular food, 2) I buy canned food, or 3) I make food. Can you guess what I decided? I chose option 3, because I like to make my life complicated.

After weeks and weeks of research, a couple of phone calls to the vet, and several metaphorical holes placed in the wall from my head, I finally came up with a recipe, more or less. I now have approximately a week’s worth of food for both of my dogs.

It only took about three and a half hours to cook. Which seems like a long time, but really, it’s not. I made a stock, shredded chicken, cooked rice and veggies until everything became mush. Copper LOVED it, as long as it’s warm. He’s not spoiled at all!

My little dog, Alphie, not so much. He can eat regular dog food, if that’s what he chooses. He weighs five pounds so a bag of food lasts awhile for him.