Those who love our pets

Blog 02/21/2013 Dogs

For those of us that love their pets, who think of them as family members, it’s hard watching them age.

Maggie, our shepherd rescue dog, is now about 12-years-old. Her hips are giving out and she limps at times, just like my husband Larry and I do. She is a wonderful dog and loves to play with the grandkids when they are here. But after a few hours of throw the stick and let me bring it back for you to throw it again..and again..well, she never gives up. When they go home, she has a hard time moving. Last week Maggie was  disappointed when Larry told the kids not to throw sticks for her. He worried about her being able to walk when they left. The question is, do we let her have fun in her last years, or try to make it so she doesn’t hurt so much?

Last week we thought she was dying. We found her in the bathroom lying on the floor and not moving. Later she moved to the toilet area. She wasn’t eating or drinking water like she usually did. Then we started getting her cereal bowls with water in them and she drank and drank, but still ate no food.

 After a few hours she followed Larry to the family room and moved to her pillow. He kept bowls of water there all night long and he made sure she drank. The next day she ate a little, peed in the house several times, which is something she never does, but again, wouldn’t go outside or eat.

But the next day when I got up to let Zeus and Icarus out, she went with them. I got her a bowl of dry food and mixed in wet food, and she ate. We were like two kids, excited because Maggie ate. Sounds silly, but to watch her recover was like watching a miracle. We thought for sure it was the end of her life.

This morning we took her to the vet when Icarus went for his flu shot. Yes, dogs need them, too! The vet checked her and said her heart is still strong, and yes she has arthritis in her hind legs, but for her age she’s doing great. I really think if Larry hadn’t stayed with her all night that first night she wouldn’t have made it. She now has pills for her pain and she got her nails cut, which she hated.

Larry had to lift her into the truck. Sad to see she can’t jump on her own any longer.

Zeus, who is an 8-year-old schnauzer, loves to go to the vet, gets all excited as soon as he sees that yellow building. Icarus, who is soon to be eight, too, has this attitude of okay I’m here. Pick me up so I can see over the counter. Maggie is scared. She gets to shedding something awful when she is there. Funny thing is, it’s Zeus who has had the surgeries—broken leg, spider bite and other odd things—and he loves to go there. Maggie only gets shots, as does Icarus.

I was watching a show on TV, forget the name of it, but it’s about two gay guys who have a surrogate mother and they will take the baby when it’s born. 

They had an adorable puppy who they treated like a baby. They were practicing fatherhood on the puppy. The puppy got something wrong with it, and they rushed it to the vet. Turns out he had gas, but they wanted to keep it overnight. Then the vet folks took it for a walk—I don’t think they ever do that—and the dog got hit by a car and died. I am still ticked over that. They should never have killed off the dog! It’s a goofy show, but I like watching it. I think I simply like stupid shows that make me laugh.

What do you think of them killing the dog off in the show off?

Autumn's birthstone found

http://deesnews.blogspot.com/ 

Dear Autumn,

It has come to Santa’s attention that you were upset that you never received your birthstone when you were born. Santa isn’t in charge of birthstones, but since your mommy wrote to tell us about this, saying you really, really wanted a birthstone, Santa had his elves check out just who was in charge and to find out what happened to your stone.

My Elf, Noah, was put in charge of finding the person in charge and to see what stone it was. So Noah took off to where the stones are kept. Noah got terrible confused when the Stone Man asked, “Which stone are you looking for?”

“June,” Noah said.

The Stone Man scratched his head. “There are three stones for June. There’s the Pearl, which has been used for centuries. There’s the Alexandrite, a relatively modern gem, first discovered in Russia in 1831. And then the Moonstone. This gem was given its name by the Roman historian, Pliny.”

Noah stood in awe. “Um, um, I don’t know. Santa sent me to find this stone for a little girl who didn’t get hers at birth. I’m an Elf, not a stone master. Please tell me which one so I can tell Santa.”

The stone master picked up the three stones and showed them to Noah. “Tell me something about this little girl, then I can tell you which stone should be hers.”

Noah sat on a large rock, placed his chin in his hands and said, “Well, Santa showed me a picture of Autumn. She’s got long light brown hair, a nice smile and is about as tall as I am. She’s very kind, loves her sister, Sophie, and her Aunt Emma is one of her favorite friends.”

“She sounds like a loving child. I’ll bet her eyes sparkles, don’t they?”

Noah stood up and tripped, then landed back on the rock. “Whoa! Sorry, Mr. Stone Man. I didn’t hurt your rock, did I?”

Stone Man laughed. “You cannot hurt that rock, Noah.”

Noah smiled. “The picture of Autumn Santa showed me, yes, her eyes do sparkle.”

“Then I know which stone is hers.” He pulled out stone and handed it to Noah. “Czar Alexander II liked this gem. It is an extremely rare chrysoberyl with chameleon-like qualities. Its color is a lovely green in both daylight and fluorescent light; it changes color to a purplish red in incandescent light. I can make this into a necklace if you want me to. It’ll take me just a few minutes. Can you wait?”

“Thank you, Stone Man. Yes, I can wait. Santa will be so happy to learn I found the stone for Autumn.”

And so Noah placed the necklace into his pouch and with his eyes sparkling, handed it to Santa. “I did it, Santa! I found Autumn’s birthstone!”

“Ho Ho! Good job, Noah. Autumn will be so happy.”

On Christmas Day, Autumn joined her family at Gammy and Pappaw’s house. Santa placed her necklace under the tree and hoped Autumn would like her special necklace made especially for her!

Lots of hugs and kisses.

Mrs. Santa Clause 

PS--After reading this to Autumn she looked at me and said, "Is this for real?"

 

Meet the Obitch Queen

QUESTIONS:

What is the working title of your book?

The Obitch Queen

Where did the idea come from for this book?

I was the Obitch Queen when I worked at a small newspaper in OH. One of my jobs was to take the obituaries and the kids I worked with tagged me with the title. Then the morticians began referring me by that name. I dug out some notes I took while working there a million years ago and decided to write the book.

What genre does your book fall under?

Woman’s Fiction with a lot of mystery

How long did it take to write the first draft?

Really, I don’t remember.

What actors would you use for a movie rendition of your book?

Sandra Bullock for Ellagrace.  Someone older but with the personality of Blake Shelton for Gary.

What is a one sentence synopsis of your book?

It wasn’t a pretty day when Ellagrace Gosdin received the news her husband died in the arms of the town prostitute, and she was determined to get revenge.

.

Will it be self published or represented by an agency?

If I don’t sell it or have an agent  by March, I’ll try to self publish. Right now two agents have partials and an editor has the full.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

One day I was thinking of all the kooky characters I actually worked with at the newspaper and decided I could pull from them and from my notes to write a book. I use to refer to the town in Ohio where I worked as the town of the dead and the dying. 

Many years ago my husband was waiting while getting a lube job on his car, and a man sitting there was from a neighboring town and he used that phrase. Funny!

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I really don’t know. I read lots and lots of books, but nothing I can compare with mine.

What else about your book might pique the reader's interest?

An older woman who is left destitute, had to find a job, and meets her high school sweetheart at a party, drags him with her to a friend’s house where they find a man dead in the friend's  kitchen, the friend tied up like a Christmas turkey in a closet, then the friend is upset that her good knife is in his chest and pulls it out, holding it when the police arrive. There are other dead bodies found, like the dead man sitting on the friend’s porch at a later date, posed with a cig in mouth and a note saying they wasted him because he sold them bogus blow, which they later learned was her husband’s ashes and they apologized. A sexy ex-boyfriend she’s determined not to become involved with after her lousy marriage, but how can she make herself not get involved?

The characters are as loony as many people I’ve met over the years, the ones I loved to hang out with, the ones we all love because they are fun to be with.

Oh, Diane notes that I write about dysfunctional families. Are there really families who aren’t dysfunctionals? I thought that was today’s norm!

Welcome to my world.

Dee

I'm a hoarder

Hoarding or not

Dee Gatrell ©

I never thought of myself as a hoarder until recently. I was looking through pictures to find some to send to a few cousins who wanted pictures of their parents. That’s when I discovered that I have thousands of pictures. They start from the time I was a few months old up to now.

Cousin Vicki wanted pictures of her dad. He was three years older than me and was my uncle. He passed away probably 10 years ago. Those who go early in the family mostly were smokers and drinkers, it’s a long family tradition.

It seems I broke that tradition. Instead I think my bad habit is hoarding.

In addition to all those pictures, I was cleaning out my dad’s old cedar chest and discovered, possibly hundreds of letters. They are letters from nearly every family member, including an aunt who died forty-some years ago. When email was new, I started saving them, too, but now don’t. Thankfully, email is saving me space in my closets. 

I hate to admit this, but I think I have large cans and a chest filled with letters in the attic. I don’t go to the attic, so they’ll be there until I croak and my children will be complaining about my addiction.

In addition to family letters, I discovered letters from people I worked with at Superior Court in Indiana about 30 years ago. I also discovered a certificate for profession paralegal secretary or something like that. The court house was different to work at. Gabe, the probation officer, was fun to be around. The lawyers that came to the office were funny and enjoyed telling us stories. The one Judge from Indianapolis was hot and we all drooled over him. Or maybe it was me doing the drooling. Shhh, don’t tell my hubby! Anyhow, I loved listening to his stories about the folks he had to deal with. When Gabe wrote she filled me in on what was going on at the court house, the people who worked there and the cases. I wish we hadn't lost contact.

Sometimes we were sent into the creepy attic to get files. It was said there were ghosts up there. I just know it scared the heck out of my when I had to go there. Spooky!

Other letters were from my Aunt Mildred who would often write from the hospital telling me that was her vacation spot. She was funny. And my dad often spoke about “your dear sweet mother” and how he was cleaning the cupboards, doing the house cleaning and babying her. 

I’ve decided one day I’m going to actually go through all those letters. Who knows? I may get writing material from them. We had a male friend Larry had been in the military with who wrote stuff about his dates that I’m sure they wouldn’t have wanted us to know.  He married three times. I still stay in touch with wife #1 and his kids. Wife #2 was a whack job and wife #3 sounded more intelligent, but I’ll just leave it there. The friend told me before he married wife #2 and 3 they were told they had to write me letters. I didn’t know this was a criteria for their marriage or I would’ve told him what I really thought. #2 reminded me of someone I knew and I would never have suggested he marry her. #3 did seem smarter, but there were red flags there, too. Of course, he was an alcoholic, so he had red flags, too.

I can always pick out something that came from my Aunt Martha. She was 5 years older than me and also died right after Uncle Donnie. She loved to underline words on a card. Slash, slash, slash—that was Martha. I still miss her.

Now it’s time to finish cleaning the mess off my bed and wonder what I’ll do with the rest of the mess. 

We all have to have our own addictions, right?

So what’s yours?