My Sick Dog

I have had my dog Treif for 1 1/2 years, and he has been steadily losing the use of his back legs ever since I got him. I took him to numerous vets who generally agreed that he has some kind of neurological problem. I was surfing the net yesterday and came across this web page here

and it exactly describes what is happening to him.

He drags his feet when he walks, I have to put bandages on his paws because they scrape against the ground and get raw and bloody. He can't get up from a sitting position without a little help; he struggles to pull himself up with his front legs. It is easier for him if he is on a carpeted surface. He sleeps a good portion of the day and when he is awake, I carry him everywhere (up and down the stairs, to the door, to his food bowl, etc.). He also has a little bit of dementia; not severe, but sometimes he seems to "forget" how to eat out of his food bowl (I hand-feed him until he catches on) and he will, when he is "walking" around, go and get caught in a corner or something and he can't figure out how to get out. He also gets very agitated, mostly in the middle of the night, and I try everything I can think of to calm him. It usually takes all night and leaves me with only a few hours of sleep a night.

We bought him a cheap wheelchair on ebay, but it just doesn't work for him. It is too bulky and heavy and hard for him to move around in. I need something lighter for him, but those cost $300 and upwards.

I get burned-out taking care of him. It is exhausting and it seems I can't do anything or go anywhere without making sure he will be ok while I am gone, or finding someone (i.e., my husband) to watch him while I am gone. For instance, he quite often will wake up and thrash around and fall off the bed, so we need to be around to make sure that doesn't happen. Or he will often start whining pitifully and needs to be comforted (I sure hope that when I am at work all day he sleeps ok in his cage, but I have a feeling he whines all day because he is lonely :(

But I love those moments when he is mentally in a good place, where he will lick my nose and wag his tail (sort of) when he sees me. I love him so much!

2007 Bad Year for Pets I Know

1) February: On my boss's birthday, his dog died. Two days before her birthday, my co-worker's young cat died.

2) March: Pet food recalled for melamine contamination. Possibly thousands of pets killed or sickened. My dog is one of the sickened.

3) June: My brother's young dog collapses and dies of a heart ailment.

4) July: Five days before her birthday, my sister's cat died.

5) October: Eight days before my birthday, my cat died.

My caricature

I had never had my caricature drawn before, until this past Sunday. She put Ladybug, Cricket, and Treif in the picture too and is having me knit. I think she made me look way better than I really do. And I am skinny in the picture too!

It's all about money

As the weeks go by, and I replay in my mind over and over the events leading up to Ladybug's death, I realized a few things. I am still angry when I think about this one vet I took her to, about two years ago when I first started noticing she was losing weight, who basically pooh-poohed my concern. After the blood tests came back, and they were normal, she told me it was a behavioral problem. Another year went by and at Ladybug's next physical she had lost even more weight. A different vet (at the same practice) told me she appeared to be having some sort of absorption problem and I should give her probiotics and more easily digestable food. A few months later, only then did another vet suggest that it might be something like IBS or cancer.

At this point, I was faced with hundreds (if not thousands) more dollars I had to cough up if I wanted to find out what was going on. It would entail surgery, biopsies, more blood tests, etc. I thought that would be way too hard on her (and also I didn't want to go into credit card debt) and decided to treat her as if she had IBS. Finally, an ultrasound at yet another vet a few months later revealed a large mass in her small intestine which she thought was probably cancer. By then it was too late, all I could do was make her comfortable.

If it wasn't for the money... if I had tons of money I would have done everything in my power to figure out what was wrong earlier. I would have taken her to a vet that specializes in cats only (they would have recognized how serious weight loss is). In fact, the vet that ended up euthanizing her was a cats only vet, and I used to go to her but stopped going because of how expensive she was. I went to her desperate to save Ladybug, but instead, shaking her head, said that Ladybug had only a few days to live, at best.

If it wasn't for the money... no expense would have been spared, and at the very least, she would have been able to stay with me much longer, and at best, I could have treated her with chemo and radiation and it could have cured her and she would still be here.

My crochet and knit projects

Since Ladybug's death (and even before), I have been madly working on one project after another. I love to crochet (knit - not so much - but I will if I have to), and it is very relaxing and takes my mind off more troubling things.

Wow, there are even more I have done, but these are just a few.

Still devastated

I haven't been able to look at my blog since she died. Sometimes I try to peek, but I see her picture and the tears start to flow.

I wanted to write, however, about that day, the day she died. I had gotten up in the morning to go to work, and I offered her a fresh, open can of tuna. She turned her head away. I knew then I had to do something. At the time, I wasn't thinking of euthanasia; I just wanted to get her to a vet and I thought maybe they could put an i.v. in her or something (to hydrate and nourish her).

In the early afternoon at work, I was able to get an appointment for a cat doctor to see her. I went home at 1:00 and I picked her up from where she was sitting (she was still in the same place as when I left her at 8:00 am) and took her upstairs and put her on my lap. I patted her rump, something she always liked, and waited for the appointment. I even fell asleep at one point. Had I known then that that would be the last time I would have her on my lap, I wouldn't have slept! I would have cherished every moment.

When it was time for the appointment I put her in her carrier and told her, "no matter what happens, YOU WILL FEEL BETTER". In the car I told her how much I loved her, how pretty she was, and I sang to her the Bug-Bug song (where I chant Bug-Bug-Bug, Bug-Bug-Bug etc. to the tune of Jingle Bells). I often sang the Bug-Bug song to her (from her name, Ladybug) since the time I got her.

Normally on trips to the vet, she would protest (meow or jiggle the door), but this time she just sat there, her beautiful eyes looking out the windows. I will never forget that.

At the vet, she didn't like when the vet was examining her. She tried to get back in her carrier. When the vet was finished, she gave it to me straight: Ladybug was at death's door and would probably not live another two days. At the moment, she was not in much pain - but she would be soon. She was jaundiced, dehydrated, anemic, and weighed only THREE pounds. When the vet palpated her abdomen, she couldn't even tell the organs apart - the cancer was seemingly growing them together into an indistinguishable mass. I knew this was it.

As soon as we decided that she was to be euthanized, Ladybug laid down on the examining table looking around. She was so calm. I was wondering why she wasn't trying to get back in her carrier. Maybe it was just because the vet was no longer touching her, I don't know. While the vet went to get the paperwork for me to sign, I crouched down and talked to her. I asked my guardian angels to please look after her. I asked Ladybug to please come and visit me. When I was talking to her, she looked straight at me, and then looked above my head and then to her left. I wondered if she could see anything, or was she just looking at the posters on the wall??

The vet injected her in her hind end, and then placed her on a towel and handed her to me. I sat with her until she was asleep. She was in a deep sleep, and the last time I ever saw her was when the vet took her from me and I saw that her eyes were wide open, yet she was asleep. In another room the vet administered the final injection and then came to tell me she was gone. It was probably the most devastating thing I had ever gone through. Not even the deaths of my grandparents or a friend from high school affected me as much. I cried as I have never cried before. When I got home my husband was afraid to leave me (he had an evening meeting to go to) for fear I would do something to myself. He had a friend call me to make sure I was ok.

I am grieving deeply for Ladybug. I miss her so much, that sometimes I don't want to live without her. I know I must. I have people and other animals that need me. But I wish I could just be in spirit too so I could be with her. I cry almost daily. What is also distressing is that I had asked for her to visit me when she was in spirit, but I have not detected anything from her. Not even a dream. My husband said that one night he could feel a cat walking on him (NOT my other cat Cricket - she weighs 15 pounds and he would have known the difference) and the other evening he saw a cat jump on a table out of the corner of his eye, but there was no one there when he looked directly.

If that is her, why is she not appearing to me? I do want to believe that this life is not all there is, but it is so hard to when you don't see/hear/smell/sense any evidence.

On top of all this is the guilt I have for various reasons: 1) I should have tried harder to help her. When she was first losing weight I should have kept questioning what the vets were telling me (her blood tests were always perfect, so they told me it was probably nothing to worry about) and 2) I should have paid more attention to her. When I got the dog, I was so tied up in all his health problems that I virtually ignored her. And 3) I am grieving for a cat, when there are thousands of people dying every day in this stupid war in Iraq, in Darfur, Afghanistan, you name it. Also the hundreds of thousands of people that have no place to live, or live below the poverty line, etc. etc. I could go on and on.

So grieving for a cat may seem silly, but it is my reality and it HURTS.

~ 1994 - October 9, 2007

Rest in peace my baby.

Is the waiting the hardest part?

She is slowly dying. She still wants to eat, but when she tries she loses interest almost immediately. When we cook, she cries for the food, but when we give her some she tries to eat it but can't. She is still drinking, but spends the rest of her days sleeping. I occasionally find poop on the carpet; evidence of painful elimination (thus she avoids the litterbox). She can jump up on some furniture, but not all. And when she jumps down she usually lands on her side and then struggles up.

So I continue to administer prednisone to her; I force-feed pumpkin to her (to help soften her bowels) and have her sit on my lap so I can pat her stomach. She seems to really like that. This is all I can do for her - and wait. Wait for her to let me know it is time (as some people have told me will happen - I doubt that), or wait for the day I wake up and find her gone.

When she is gone, will I still cry every day? Or will a weight be lifted from my shoulders - she will no longer be suffering, and I will no longer have to see her like that. Will I feel guilt and anguish for not figuring out sooner what was wrong with her? or having to euthanize her?

Today my husband asked me how my life will be different without her. I don't care how my life will be; I just care about her life. Will she go to a better place, or is there just nothing? If she does go to a better place, will anyone be there to take care of her?

She's still hanging on...

Every day I wake up and wonder if she is still alive. She is hanging in there. She had been taking two doses of prednisone every day, but I reduced it to only one, because it was making her feel sicker. Now she will actually eat a little bit every day and seem interested in food. And I decided to let her eat whatever she wants. The vet said to feed her a raw canned food diet, but she was turning her nose up at it. It think it's better to eat a little bit of crappy food, than no food at all. After all, we're talking about quality of life. The raw food diet is supposed to slow the growth of the cancer, but if she is not eating it, then what is the point?

Ladybug is now so light, that when I put her on my digital scale, it stays at "0".

BTW, please ignore my ugly mug. I wasn't exactly "made-up" for the camera.

In a previous post, I talked about my cat Ladybug and how she kept me up at night wanting to eat all the time. Since then I have spent almost $1000 in vet bills to figure out what is wrong with her. She got test after test, xrays, etc. and everything was always normal. However, she was losing weight (down to 5 lbs from 9 lbs) but still eating constantly.

Today she had an ultrasound and there was a large mass detected in her small intestine. It is almost certainly a cancer (lymphosarcoma). With her age (about 13) I decided not to subject her to surgery, since it would be awfully hard on her, and won't be a cure (most cancer cells from lymphosarcomas circulate into the cat's blood - the whole system is affected). Not to mention it would be another $1000 and then some. So I am treating her with steriods to try to "buy some time".

People who don't have a connection to pets just don't understand how devastating losing one is. And knowing that I will lose her probably within the next year, is going to be very hard to deal with. She is here with me now, and I can't grasp the fact that eventually she will not be here. I always had a problem with that. How can someone be here and then not be here? I am finding it difficult to express what I mean so I will end this post now.

Dog or cat?

You Are: 50% Dog, 50% Cat

You are a nice blend of cat and dog. You're playful but not too needy. And you're friendly but careful. And while you have your moody moments, you're too happy to stay upset for long.

Are You More Cat or Dog?

My Grandmother

She was so talented! I took this picture of a bunch of doilies she made. The picture doesn't do them justice. They are just beautiful. I keep them put away because they are too pretty to use. I plan on learning how to do this kind of thing myself (just as soon as I am through with my other crochet projects).

Boy I regret not having her teach me herself. But I was a bratty teenager at that time and I didn't care. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say. I hope wherever she is now that she knows that I am so sorry.

Cars I've Owned

My first car was a Reliant K! I just loved it; at the time, however, I didn't know that it was a very nerdy car to have. I remember asking the girl next door if she wanted a ride in it, and she was very polite, but I could tell she was unimpressed and even embarrassed that I asked.



My second car was a Pontiac Sunbird. I can't remember where I got it, but I know the reason I got it was because an ex-friend of mine had an older version, and I wanted to have one that was "better" than hers.


My third car was an Oldsmobile Cultlass Calais. I loved that car. I drove it for prit' near 10 years. It was in four accidents, the trunk leaked whenever it rained (a result of one of the accidents) and it didn't have any power anything (except steering), but I loved it. When I wanted to trade it in for my next car, the dealership wouldn't take it for a trade-in because it was such a piece of crap. So I gave it to my brother, who drove it another couple of years until it fell apart.

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So my next car was a Pontiac Sunfire. I saw it when my Dad was using one for a loner car; I went right out and bought one. I loved that car too, even though it too had no power windows, locks, keyless entry, etc. It was really fun to drive. I would probably still have it if it were not for 9/11. A month after that, the country was going crazy and I decided I was worried about the economy and that buying a new car would be me doing my part. What a stupid idea. I got a Saturn L100, which was an ok car, but it had NOTHING on it. It was one of those deals that either you paid around $16,000 to have no options, or you paid in the $20,000 and above range to get the options. I couldn't afford that.

About three years later, after I got married, my husband needed to buy a new car because his had died and wasn't fixable. He wanted a Toyota. So I decided to get rid of my Saturn while I had a chance. We both picked out, unknowingly to each other, a Matrix. When I found out that was what he wanted, I let him have it and decided to get an Echo. But the dealership didn't want to sell me one of those. They had Corollas sitting on their lot that they wanted to get rid of during their 1.2% financing sale. So I picked out a Corolla. I could have at least gotten a white one (I like white cars), but NO, I got a tan one.



So this is the car I have now. Why does it bore me so? It looks great and is a fine car. Yes, I know... I am lucky to even be able to have a new car, when others can't, and I know, there are worse things in the world. But this post is about cars. Along with other self-help books I am reading about various subjects, I should be reading one about why I can't be happy and thankful for what I have, and also one on being materialistic. This car will be paid off in another year-and-a-half, and for probably the first time in my adult life I will have no car payments to make! Let's see if I can hold onto it and resist the urge to get yet another one.

More about animals...

My husband emailed this to me. He found it at ritualwell.org. It made me feel better knowing some attention was paid to animals in the Torah:

Rabbinic tradition makes clear God's role as the caretaker of all forms of life: "The Holy One, blessed be God, sits and sustains [all life], from the horns of the wild oryx to the eggs of lice." (Babylonian Talmud Shabbat. 107b) "Human and creature You preserve, Adonai." (Psalm 36:7) "In whose hand is the soul of every living thing and the breath of all humankind." (Job 12:10) "You open Your hand and satisfy every living thing with favor." (Psalm 145:16).


Created in God's image, we, too, seek to sustain all life. In the Book of Samuel, the prophet Nathan tells David about the relationship of a poor man and a little lamb: "He tended it, and it grew up together with him and his children: it used to share his morsel of bread, drink from his cup, and nestle in his bosom; it was like a daughter to him." (II Samuel 12:3) Such was this man's bond of love for his animal companion. Similarly, on a daily basis, many of us take care of our precious pets, our beloved animal-children, by feeding and sheltering them, by petting, walking, and playing with them. And, at the same time, in sustaining life, we are sustained. According to Rab, the sign of protection which God gave to Cain was a dog. (Genesis Rabbah 22:12) Like Cain's dog, our devoted companions protect and take care of us not only physically but also emotionally and spiritually. Ours is gratitude and reverence for their honest and humble example, generosity of spirit, and unconditional love.


Amen.

Do spiders have souls?

I know my post of June 18 was kind of a disturbing one (at least my husband didn't like it) but I was in a mood when I wrote it. I was really worried about an upcoming doctor appointment where I was to get a biopsy. It got me thinking of my own mortality (at least, I began to think about it even more than I usually do). And the last thing I needed/need is for someone to tell me that this is all there is. I suppose I should just stay away from the internet and the subject, but I can't help myself. I search for some kind of comfort, like personal accounts of ghosts and spirits which might convince me that there is something more to this life.

Other thoughts about this subject bother me, like when people claim that only humans have a soul. I believe that everything, down to insects, has some kind of "life force" - I just don't know what happens next. If I squash that spider I saw in my living room the other day, does it descend to heaven where its relatives and "God" are there to greet it? It sounds ridiculous. What about the trillions and trillions of other insects, fish, animals, one-celled organisms, etc. that exist and that EVER existed?

The only explanation that makes sense is what someone said on this site I was looking at once:

"It is said that when animals pass they return to a universal animal conciousness, but with pets, because we love them, they become part of our circle of life and therefore are waiting for us when we pass. We give them an individuality (and they give us love) that they would not have received in the wild, and therefore they become part of our circle of love and life."

What is love? Is it also a "life force" that has some kind of power? Is love really "God" then?

Clean garages

What is up with people who have NOTHING in their garages (except their car)? Walking my dog tonight, I saw several where these people have absolutely nothing in there. No storage boxes, no hoses, no tools, no junk, no nothing. Are they beings from another planet? Aliens? Because I have never met a regular person who doesn't have a garage overflowing with stuff.

I don't feel grown up

At what point does one feel like a grown-up? I am 40 years old, and I am at the age that when I was a kid, seemed ancient. I still feel like I am a teenager. I drive a car that has a steering wheel cover that has lady bugs and flowers on it, there are stuffed animals in my back seat, and cute dangling things hanging from my rear view mirror. The other day it occurred to me that some might think my car belonged to a 16 year-old. But that is the way I want it.

When shopping, I am always drawn to toys and stuffed animals. One thing I like to do is look through the toy aisles at all the cool stuff kids can get now-a-days. I would have loved it!

Maybe it's because I never had my own children. They say that makes you grow up quick! I have only ever had myself to take care of. Now that I am married and a stepmother, it is taking me awhile to get it through my head that I have others that need me now, so I need to step up.

Anyway, this was just something I was thinking about earlier this evening. I wonder if others feel the same way I do.

I am mad at the atheists

I am just so mad right now. Why do atheists seem so happy when declaring their belief that there is nothing after life?

A little background: I have always been fearful of death, since I was a kid. I remember lying in bed in the dark and realizing that someday I will not exist, and it was painful thinking about it. I had to shake my head and desperately try to think of something else to make me feel better. Sometimes I would cry myself to sleep about it.

I've lost my grandparents, my favorite aunt, a few childhood friends, and many pets to death, and I just can't grasp the fact that they do not exist now. I feel like they just went somewhere else - where, I don't know.

Anyway, I read a lot of books on NDE's hoping something would comfort me and convince me that I have nothing to worry about. In the present, I do a lot of internet searches to find something to make me feel better. This is where I get angry: the majority of the sites I find are by people spouting their beliefs that when you die, that is it, you simply don't exist anymore, and your essence doesn't exist either. They are so firm in their beliefs that they seem almost gleeful about it. Gee, so you're happy that all you're going to be in the end is worm-food? I don't understand it.

Why can't people admit that they can't be sure about this? The universe is so vast and seemingly unending, we couldn't possibly grasp the magnitude - why do we presume to think that this place is all there is? Isn't it conceivable, even a little bit, that there could be more than this life on earth? And isn't it conceivable that we could be a part of it too?

STOP MAKING ME FEEL BAD!

Things that make me happy

By nature, I am such a negative person. That is the way I was raised. My father was constantly worried about "what could go wrong" and he never really trusted anyone, and so that is how I came to have my negative attitude. Or maybe it was genetics and it couldn't be helped.

Anyway, I was sitting here thinking that I should really try to overcome my negative thoughts - let's see what I come up with:

1. Chocolate. This includes hot fudge sundaes, chocolate cake, even semi-sweet chocolate. Generally, anything covered in chocolate is good.
2. Hearing my dog and my husband snoring. For some reason, it is comforting. They seem happy and content when they're sleeping and that makes me happy too.
3. Watching my cats and my dog eat, play, and sleep. They're so cute.
4. Knitting and crocheting. When I make something that looks really good, I get a great sense of accomplishment. And when the person I give it to is really happy about it, that makes me happy too.
5. Taking photographs. I have tons of digital photos of my nieces and nephews, and of course, my animals!
6. The smell of fresh, cut grass.
7. Watching my flowers on my patio bloom.
8. Shopping!
9. Seeing fireflies light up in the evenings.
10. Hearing the crickets and tree frogs on a quiet night.

That was really hard. For a pessimist, I really had to sit and think hard. But maybe if I practice everyday it will become easier. Yeah, right. Oops...there's that "stinkin' thinkin'" again. Dammit!

Happiness is...

watching my pets sleep. Their cuteness, their obvious comfort, makes me wish I could curl up and sleep all day too.

My bedroom through the years

I lived with my parents until I was around 31 (!!) - I just didn't make enough money to live by myself, and I didn't date at all so I never met someone to marry or move in with. The other day, I was going through some old pictures and found several of my bedroom during three distinct decades. They are:

The 1970's:
Pink shag carpeting! Yuck!
You should see one of the walls (not shown) - it was wall-papered in pink, yellow, red, blue, and green flowers so bright it could blind you. We used to accidentally get silly putty in the carpet and my mom would be so mad.

The 1980's:



I guess yellow isn't too bad of a color for a room. We took out the pink shag carpeting and refinished the hardwood floors.


The 1990's:



You can never go wrong with white. I am not sure I like the wallpaper anymore. I like blinds more than curtains. Wish I could afford them in the house I have now!








Of course, the pictures above were taken at their cleanest and most orderly. The following pictures represent what it usually looked like (at least in the 1970's). We called it "Wild Kingdom":

People suck

You Are 67% Misanthropic

Here's the truth: Most people suck. You are just lucky enough to know it. You're not ready to go live alone in a cave - but you're getting there.

How Misanthropic Are You?

The Past

My past infringes on my present life almost on a daily basis. My mind is swimming with memories, mostly bad ones, sometimes so often that it interferes with my life. Today I am at work, but I haven't done anything productive. My brain is just too fogged up with negativity.

Last night was our Seder and two of our guests were very attractive young women. I was aware the whole evening that I was the heaviest woman there. They looked fabulous, and I felt I looked frumpy and fat, even though I tried to look my best. But the fact is, if you are chubby, you are chubby; and no piece of clothing will magically transform you into one of them!

So part of my brain says "so what?". I don't care if other people are fat, why should I care if I am? But the other part of my brain does notice if other people are fat. I believe I was "taught" to be ultra-sensitive to it because of how I was teased and downright bullied by kids when I was in school. Looking back, I was not even that fat, but it was enough that I was singled out by them. I guess in the 1980's, even a little bit of chubbiness was scandalous, at least in the little town I lived in.

Why it has left me so scarred is something I am scratching my head over. Why would it matter now? That was 25-30 years ago. I have a good job, a good marriage, a nice house; really, a "charmed life" compared to others. But it affects every aspect of my life, from my sex life (I don't feel like I am attractive so I am sure you can imagine how that would affect my sex life negatively) to just going out and being in the world (again, I don't feel like I am attractive, or thin enough, to be out in public without feeling self-conscious - which I know is ridiculous! It's not like I am a 600 pound woman with kids pointing and laughing and adults averting their eyes!!). I LOVE staying home, wearing oversize clothing (t-shirts and sweats, usually) lying in bed with my dog and cats. I feel so happy and secure at those times. It doesn't matter how I look, and I can relax and enjoy life. But if I have to go out, I get nervous and jumpy, and a feeling of dread sometimes comes over me. All of it I think is related to my negative childhood experiences.

I do not know how to get over this. I have been to therapy for a year, most of the time talking about my childhood, but I am not any better (meaning, my brain is still stuck where it was when I was a kid - the fat kid that no one likes). I have not been able to find any self-help books on the subject. Most of them deal with childhood sexual abuse and violence, none of which I suffered. Just the constant beating down of my sense of self-worth by rotten, rotten kids.

Maybe my amygdala and hippocampus in my brain have been permanently altered by the bad experiences, so that there is no hope for recovery. If I have any readers out there who have any advice, I sure would welcome it!

More questions and answers

1. Can you cook? God, no! At least I can boil water, though. I lived on spaghetti and ramen noodles for many years until I got married. My husband cooks!
2. What was your dream growing up? To live happily ever after, whatever that meant. I never had a particular thing that I wanted to do, I just wanted to be happy wherever I ended up.
3. What talent do you wish you had? To be able to sing. I can't carry a tune in a bucket.
4. Favorite place? At home with my animals and husband. It feels so safe and secure, not like the world outside, which is sometimes a dangerous place.
5. Favorite vegetable? Carrots.
6. What was the last book you read? The Happy Hooker Crochet book. One of the best books I have read in a long time on the subject.
7. What zodiac sign are you? Libra, sign of the scales, wanting balance in my life and in others lives. So true.
8. Any Tattoos and/or Piercings? Nope. I've thought about it, but can't get over that I wouldn't be able to remove it (unless I had expensive surgery). I just can't commit!
9. Worst Habit? Eating too much sugar. I am completely and hopelessly addicted to anything sugary. If I cut out of my diet most of the sugar I eat on a day-to-day basis, I could probably lose 10 pounds in only a couple days. (but I would surely have to be put in a straight-jacket too).
10. What is your favorite sport? Don't have one. I wish I did. Most people I know are passionate about and enjoy watching football, but it still bores me. Couldn't care any less.
11. Do you have a Negative or Optimistic attitude? Negative! I really tried to be positive, but too many bad things happen in the world; they outweigh the positive.
12. What is one weird fact about you? I can flare my nostrils. Also, when I put towels and dishes away after washing them, I put them on the bottom of the stack so the ones that are already there will have a chance to be used next time. I guess that was two weird facts, instead of one.
13. Do you have any pets? A dog and two cats. See my other posts about them - there are many!
14. Do you know how to do the Macarena? NO. And don't wanna!
15. What time is it where you are now? 3:30 p.m.
16. Do you think clowns are cute or scary? Scary and sinister! I won't have them in my house.
17. If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be? If I could just snap my fingers and have it be instant? Lose 30 pounds. I really only need to lose 20, but another 10 wouldn't kill me. I wish liposuction wasn't so gross (and dangerous) (and expensive) or I would do it!
18. What color eyes do you have? Hazel
19. Ever been arrested? Nope, I have always been very well-behaved.
20. Bottle or Draft? Neither; don't like beer. I like Kool-Aid and Root Beer.
21. If you won $10,000 dollars today, what would you do with it?
Pay off some credit cards, give some to members of my family. We all could use a little extra cash.
22. What's your favorite bar to hang at? Don't have one, but if I did, it would be completely non-smoking and you could bring your dog! They would serve dog biscuits too.
23. Do you believe in ghosts? Yes! I have never seen one, but know people who have and I believe them.
24. Favorite thing to do in your spare time? Crochet or knit. If someone would pay me to sit there and crochet all day I would be a very very happy person.
25. Do you swear a lot? OH, yes. At work, while driving, etc.
26. Biggest pet peeve? People who drive below the speed limit. If you need to do that, fine, but pull over once in awhile and let others by!
27. In one word, how would you describe yourself? Complicated.

Dammit

I am angry about two things today:

1) The pet food recall. I had been feeding my dog Treif Nutro Natural pouch food, which is SUPPOSED to be a high-quality dog food, when it turns out that it is manufactured by the same place that has the contamination. THE SAME PLACE that other crappy, store brands are made. WTF? I thought this kind of dog food was supposed to be superior? I feel like an idiot and I feel like the Nutro company and all other pet food companies are liars and can't be trusted. So what the hell do I feed my dog now?

So far, Treif is doing ok, even though the pouches I had been feeding him were on the list of recalled food.

2) Discrimination against fat people. Who the f#%&!! cares if someone is fat. I am about 20 pounds overweight and I am tired of feeling bad about myself. I just love to eat. It is one of life's pleasures and yes, sometimes it is what gets me up every day (the thought that there is cake at work today, or there is a candy bar down in the kitchen that I saved for today). Call me pathetic if you want, but I don't care. You can kiss my big fat butt! :)

Things I Remember About Elementary School

I went to a little seven-room school. One room for each grade, a multipurpose room (for art classes, gymnastics, cafeteria, and for whatever!) and one room for the library/music room.

First grade - I remember when we had nap time, we all were supposed to put our heads on our desks and rest/sleep. I fell asleep one time, and when I woke was held up as a positive example for doing what I was supposed to do (apparently not much sleep went on during these "nap times"). I also remember coveting a particular toy and wishing I could take it home.

Second grade - I was such a good speller and reader I got to go to the first grade room and read a story. I read "Curious George flies a kite" (I still have that book). I also got in trouble in second grade numerous times. Once for making fun of a girl, who was very pretty, for falling behind in our readers (I boasted out loud that I was better). The teacher yelled at me and I felt angry that the "pretty girl" bested me that way. I also, when frantic about catching the bus, got in trouble for pulling my coat out from under a girl and flipping her on her butt. I didn't like her anyway.

Third grade - I remember Mrs. Odie. I adored her. One time she scolded me for something and I was crushed. I don't remember what it was that I did.

Fourth grade - I remember the girls being ushered into another room for a "special" filmstrip (about becoming a "woman"). The boys were jealous and wanted to go too ("why do they get to watch a movie and not us?"). I remember wishing I could go out on the playground with them instead of having to watch the filmstrip.

Fifth grade - I just loved Mr. Gorbutt. I think he still teaches to this day (he was my teacher in 1977). I learned a lot from him. He was really funny and smart. There are too many things I remember about this grade to mention here. It would have to be another post. It was about this time that life got more complicated: in the coming year I would lose a friend (killed by a drunk driver after he hit her with his car while she was on her bike), I would lose lots of friends who decided that I wasn't worth knowing anymore (once we got into junior high and mingled with new kids from other elementary schools), and other hardships (or so they seemed when I was a child). It was when I learned to hate school because of the mean kids in it.

Other things about elementary school: 1) Miss Paris, the hippie music teacher. One song I remember singing was "Song Sung Blue" (by Neil Diamond). 2) In fifth grade, we made up a restaurant called "Kountry Kitchen" and made menus and invited parents to it (in our multipurpose room!). I was in charge of making sausage in the skillet and I was afraid of it because it was hot. 3) the tornado drills - we had to go to the "library/music room" and crouch underneath gymnastic mats together. One time we actually did it for real, but no tornado came. 4) In gym class, I was afraid to do a forward-roll. I practiced at home, and when I finally did it, I just wanted to keep doing them! It was fun. 5) My gym teacher Mr. Bouchard used to play the Bee Gees during our gym class. I didn't like him. Not because of that, though. 6) During recess, I would sit on the sidewalk leaning against the wall of the school, and I would crochet chains, practicing what my grandmother taught me. 7) Our field days! There would be games and races and prizes (I liked the cakewalk); one time during one of those things I got my thumb shut in a window and it really hurt. 8) Playing with my friend Joanna, who I would later attend school with all the way to graduation, but we were never close like we were in elementary school. We would pretend we were horses. My horse name was Fran. One time we were so engrossed in playing we didn't hear the recess bell and were late getting back to class. Joanna liked doritos a lot (especially the salty ones!). Joanna later died when she was 31 of breast cancer. I still think of her often.

I am sure no one is interested in my memories, but I just wanted to get them down on "paper" (or in this case, cyberspace).

Questions

I have been posting in my blog quite a bit these past few days. I just have a lot of stuff to say!


1. What is your occupation? I am a Research Technician in a (Neuro)Psychiatry Research lab.

2. What color are your socks right now? I am not wearing any!

3. What are you listening to right now? My stepson jumping around downstairs yelling.

4. What was the last thing that you ate? A granola bar.

5. Can you drive a stick shift? Nope!

6. Last person you spoke to on the phone? My husband.

7. Do you like the person who sent this to you? No one sent this to me, I stole it off of someone's blog when I was doing a google blog search!

8. How old are you today? 40, but I feel 25

9. Favorite drink? Goose Island Root Beer

10. What is your favorite sport to watch? Golf, but not really

11. Have you ever dyed your hair? Yes, blonde, black, and auburn (but not all at once)

12. Pets? One dog and two cats

13. Favorite food? Chocolate!

14. What was the last movie you watched? Star Wars III on cable ("If you are not with me, then you are my enemy")

15. Favorite day of the year? Usually my birthday

16. How do you vent anger? by eating or sleeping or ranting. It depends.

17. What was your favorite toy as a child? My stuffed Snoopy dolls

18. What is your favorite season? Autumn, without a doubt

19. Cherries or Blueberries? Cherries

20. Do you want your friends to email you back? Of course

21. Who is most likely to respond? Amy

22. Who is least likely to respond? Susan

23. Living arrangements? Live with my husband and my stepson (50% of the time)

24. When was the last time you cried? A few days ago.

25. What is on the floor of your closet? Storage boxes

26. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending this to? I am not sending this to anybody

27. What did you do last night? Worked on my knitting spool, wrote in my blog, played with my dog, ate chocolate.

28. What are your favorite smells? Coffee and beer. Oddly enough, I don't like the taste of either.

29. What inspires you? Honestly? A sunny day.

30. What are you afraid of? Losing someone I love.

31. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? Plain, but with ketchup and onions.

32. Favorite dog breed? I like any kind of small dog. Jack Russell, Boston Terrier, etc.

33. Number of keys on your key ring? 5, I think.

34. How many years at your current job? almost 4, but have been in this type of work over 11

35. How many states have you lived in? Two, born in Michigan, now I live in Indiana

36. Favorite day of the week? Fridays!

37. Favorite holiday? I don't like holidays.

My Imagini

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

My "Children"

I have more pics at the site below. One page is of Treif when he was sick with a skin infection, but he is all better now! He was on antibiotics for almost 3 months.

http://mypage.iu.edu/~pamkelle/pictures.html

Our beloved pets

A blogger that I frequent (Sonya) is mourning the death of her precious dog Cia http://sonyasthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/03/tell-me-you-didnt-say-goodbye.html. I have never met her or her dog, but I am still very sad about it. It made me think of all the animals that have come and gone from my life and how very important they are/were. I believe our pets are family members, just as important as the humans. They all have their individual unique personalities, just as we do. Sonya wrote more eloquently about it than I could ever hope to (since I am not much of a writer). I wish that I could find a way to express in words how I feel about my animals like she did about Cia. My heart goes out to her for this terrible loss.

For all but one (so far) of my animals, I have not been present at the moment of their death. Either the animals died alone outside (our dogs Skipper and Sandy) or my parents were with them when they were euthanized (dog Sheba, and cats Sweet-Pea, Tappy, and Bart). It was a wrenching experience for them, very sad and I am sure they are still in mourning. Maybe not as intense as when it first happened, but mourning in their way none-the-less. I dread the day that I have to say good-bye to the animals I have now. Ladybug, my cat, is getting up in years and starting to have medical problems. Treif is an old dog (I adopted him just this past May); I never even knew him when he was a puppy and a young dog. So I will not have many years with him. Ladybug was also older when I adopted her and I will not have as many years with her either. I hope that I can be strong when the day comes that I must say good-bye. And I desperately hope that I will see all my animals again someday.

"Heaven - all the animals that ever loved you will be waiting at the gate!". If they are not there, then I don't want to go!!

Another childhood creation

My father's hobby was rehabilitating birds of prey. So I made this buzzard!

Where did my creativity go?

My grandmother taught me how to crochet when I was about 8 years old. From there until I was in my mid-teens I crocheted all the time! I never followed patterns, and I used my imagination to make such things like the above. I had (and still have) quite a collection of crocheted clothes for my snoopys!

Now I marvel at the creativity I used to possess.

As an adult, I have to consult books in order to learn certain patterns to crochet. Why can't I just invent something like I did when I was a kid? I wonder if it's because my brain is now filled with grown-up thoughts (paying the bills and such), so I don't have any room for creativity anymore. Or maybe no time for creativity anymore.

More about my former evil boss

From a previous post (http://auntpama.blogspot.com/2007/01/work-regrets.html )I talked about my previous boss, who was such an unpleasant person to work for:

Here are two things she said to me that I still remember: Once, when I was just starting to work for her and she piled all the work on me and I was frantically trying to get it done - I had to skip lunch, and I was so thirsty my lips were cracking and bleeding - she noticed that I was really upset, and she said "Well, it's not MY fault you're so slow!".

Another time, I was upset about an abnormal pap smear (which later resolved itself, thankfully), and I confided in her about it. She said "Don't worry! Only PROSTITUTES have those kinds of problems!" Gee thanks, boss.

She would also have me lie to other people. For instance, if she didn't want someone in another lab to borrow or use something of "hers", she would tell me to tell them it wasn't working, or she was using it, etc. But she had no problem with using their stuff.

I think she was probably the most selfish person I had ever met.

My good cat Cricket

She rarely ever wakes me up at night!

A little scamp...

My cat LadyBug is a little scamp. Or my husband calls her another name that I shouldn't print here. The problem is she keeps me awake a good portion of the night. It all begins about 5 minutes after lights out - she comes up onto the bed with me and starts pawing at my face. Or, she will start knocking things off my bedside table, or she will go elsewhere in the room and make any kind of noise so that I will get up. Usually she finds some paper or something and paws and scratches at it incessantly. Believe me, it is very loud and unpleasant.

So what I do is I get up and go downstairs with her and feed her a small can of Fancy Feast. My other cat Cricket will usually come along to see what we're doing and have a little nosh too. Then LadyBug will eat only a small portion of the food, and then leave the rest. Also, I usually have to sit with her while she eats.

After I go back to bed, sometimes as little as 20 minutes later she is at it again: knocking things over, scratching my face, etc. So I go downstairs again with her. This time she will not eat what is sitting there. It has to be fresh. I try anything to make her happy so she will let me sleep. Tuna, treats, etc.

Recently, she doesn't even want to eat at all. I go down to feed her and she will just look at it and turn up her nose. Sometimes she won't even come with me into the kitchen; she will just watch from afar. And when I try to go get her, she will run and hide underneath the kitchen table.

I cannot figure out what her problem is. I have tried playing with her for awhile before bed (to tire her out), I have tried shutting her in a cage at night (but she rattles on it so I can't sleep through that either), I have tried shutting her out of our room (but she just scratches at the door and I can't sleep through that). I am now thinking of giving her some kind of sedative before bed. I don't want to; but I need to get sleep!

On top of that, my dog Treif usually needs to go potty at least once during the night. So when I do that, that will stir up LadyBug again and she will be all over me.

I realize that my getting up and dealing with her is just reinforcing her behavior. However, not dealing with her is worse to me. I don't like finding all my stuff on the floor in the morning, or finding papers with claw marks on them lying around. I can't sleep through the scratching sounds on the door or the rattling of the cage.

My husband says to shut her in the garage where we can't hear her, but it is not a heated garage. It is way too cold, and she is an old cat. That would be cruel.

So I continue with lack of sleep every day and try to make up for it on the weekends.

My Mother

Wasn't she pretty? This picture was taken around 1960 - she is holding my sister.

As I get older I am getting into looking at old pictures and reminiscing. We all look so young. I especially marvel over ones of me as a teen and young adult, when I thought I was really fat, when actually I looked quite attractive. What was I thinking? I wish I had realized then how I actually looked. The mind is a powerful thing, making you "see" what is not actually there.

Work Regrets

Years ago I worked as a Research Technician for a woman in the field of dentistry. I had graduated from college relatively late in life (early 30's) and it took me a year to find a job in a research lab, and she hired me. It was very low-paying but I was happy to have a job.

Just a few days into the job, I realized that this woman was going to be very difficult to work for. She was not liked by any of the other researchers in the lab, and she did not treat me well. I hung in there because I needed the job and did not want to spend another year looking. Also, she could be a nice person sometimes, and I think I clung to that. In hindsight, I think she had major mental problems (narcissism and a tendency to be passive-aggressive).

Anyhoo, to this day I still try to examine what happened with her and why I stuck around for so long. I even moved to another state to continue working for her. By this time (2 years) we had developed a working relationship that was tolerable, or so I thought. I think I was lying to myself. Looking back, I don't think going home and crying and dreading to go to work every Sunday evening was very healthy. I remember even having two fights with her where she stormed out of the lab and left me crying.

Finally after almost six years of working for her, I just lost it. I knew that there was an opening in a lab that a friend of mine knew about and I grabbed it. Then, I panicked. Instead of going to her and calmly telling her I was leaving, I E-MAILED her my resignation. She was furious and barely spoke to me the rest of the time I was there (about a month). After all those years slaving for her and putting up with her unusual personality (she continued to piss people off even in her next position) I got NOTHING - no thanks for your hard work, let's keep in touch, etc. In fact, when I told her I expected her to call me if she needed any help or had questions, she adamantly refused on the pretense of "not wanting to bother me in my new job". I knew better. She HATED me now, because I dared to leave her - and she no longer had any control over me.

Why, then, do I continue to think about her and wish that we could have remained friends? Do I yearn for her approval? I remember always trying to please her, but it was quite a difficult thing to do because nothing ever was good enough for her. As expected, after I left, she published a paper that I should have been an author on, but instead she bumped me to the acknowledgements. I suppose I was lucky to even get that.

I think now she works somewhere in Buffalo, N.Y. still in dentistry.

I regret so much being such a wuss all those years and letting her walk all over me. I am sure that contributed to her lack of respect for me and thus the way she treated me (like a slave).

Food Ponderings...

This is some sushi at Monaghan's Fish Market in Ann Arbor, Michigan, that my husband ate for lunch one day while we were visiting.

YUCK!!! I had a bottle of pop and a bag of potato chips instead.

My husband and I have wildly different food preferences. He likes more sophisticated food, and my preferences are more child-like. For example, mac and cheese, any kind of junk food like french fries, and lots of sweet stuff like ice cream and especially chocolate! I can't go a day without it. Whereas my husband likes wine, beer, martini's etc., I like root beer, kool-aid, juice, etc. I don't think my food tastes ever grew up, and I most probably never grew up either.

My husband likes watching the Food Network, and also shows like "Top Chef". He appreciates the chef's skill and sometimes makes comments about how good the food looks that they make. But I am not the slightest bit interested (unless it's a gooey chocolate dessert or something). Things like sushi, fish, and any other kind of seafood are completely unappetizing to me. But he loves it! It has to be kosher, though, or he won't eat it.

How do we cope with such differences? We just sometimes make separate dinners! Or if we go out to a seafood restaurant, I can get by with breaded fish and chips or something. The less it looks and tastes like a fish, the better. My husband eats whole fish, even the head! I think that is so unusual, but apparently I am the one that is in the minority, since probably more than half the world eats fish that way. I guess I just grew up sheltered in that respect. Family dinners only ever consisted of hot dogs, goulash, tuna noodle casserole, spaghetti, and sometimes pot roast on the weekends. Maybe it was because my mother worked and was too tired to try anything new or more complicated. Then, sometime during my teens she decided not to cook anymore, and from then on she and my father went to Big Boy's EVERY NIGHT for dinner. They either brought me and my siblings take-0ut from there, or we would make something simple like spaghetti ourselves. From there I never developed a taste for sophistication.

My life lately

Treif has been taking up so much of my time since he has been sick, that I have been not paying as much attention to my cats Ladybug and Cricket. Sure I feed them like I always do, but there is not as much cuddling and playing with them as there used to be. I just don't have the time anymore. I feel terrible about it.

At work, I am starting to feel pressure. I've been told we are going to apply for another grant so they need me to perform lots more qRT-PCR's and other experiments for it. So I feel like it is all up to me. Don't screw up! I am already having trouble with one of my standard curves. I do not know what is going on or if I am doing anything wrong. I never had any trouble like this before.

At home, I realize I am not keeping the house as clean as it should be. All I want to do is sit in bed with my animals and crochet or knit. The floors need mopping and vacuuming, the kitchen counters are a mess, the bathrooms are a mess, and the animal's room where I feed them is a disaster area.

I don't want to be a grown-up! Or at least I wish I was rich so I could hire someone to clean for me. And then I wouldn't have to work either. That would be great! Dream on.