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A big part of the reason we chose the house we currently live in is because it’s an excellent space for entertaining, and, if you know me, you know it doesn’t take much for me to decide to throw a party. Like, say, my dog not dying — as far as I’m concerned, no better reason, right?
Fortunately, I have a lot of incredibly awesome friends who feel the same way, and who had zero reservations about heading over to our house on a Monday night to celebrate my sweet, healthy pup. And drink wine. You know.
And, get this — not only did we have a bunch of the regular crew show up, but two of her doctors from her stay in the ICU came! (One didn’t make it, but he explained that it was because he was stuck in the ER until 11:30. Apparently he didn’t realize that it would’ve been totally acceptable to show up at that point.)
As far as Rudi goes, things continue to look good. Her numbers are within the normal range, and though we’d still be happy to see the creatnine come down just a smidge, we can certainly work with where it is if need be. As Dr. Bandt told me yesterday, it’s back to normal life now. I’ve never been happier.
(Okay, fine, I’d be happier if more of the shrimp salad I’d made for the party had been left over. What’s that? You want the recipe? Fine. It was basically shrimp, which I chopped up into large chunks, mayo, celery, green onion, shredded carrots, dill and salt and pepper to taste — I’d send you to the recipe, but I printed it out and promptly forgot where it came from. It was delicious, but I really wanted to make Mango-Curry Shrimp Salad in Wontons, but somebody thought it sounded like too much work. For me. Not him. Why did I listen again?)
So, it’s not just me, right? It’s fun to come up with a reason to throw a random weeknight party. Now, squirt gun to your head — if you had to throw a party, like, tomorrow night, what kind of fun reason could you come up with for doing so?
In case you didn’t already hear all about it on Facebook or Twitter, we had a bit of a scare last week when Rudi got into some people meds and went into renal failure.
I’m not going to make you wait for the outcome — she’s doing great and has a real chance at a full recovery. You know, after a week in the UF Small Animal ICU. A week in which she made every doctor and student working with her fall madly, deeply in love with her, of course, but a week in the doggie hospital nonetheless.
She had maybe a 50/50 shot going in, and when we walked in with her, I did my best to accept the fact that we very well might not get her back. I believe this acceptance may have come out as me yelling at the doctors, “This SUCKS! This super, super SUCKS!” in between my hysterical sobbing and nose blowing and crying into my sick dog’s coat, but, you know, we do the best we can do in those situations, right?
Fortunately, her numbers began improving fairly quickly after admitting her, and though it took days before I allowed myself even a glimmer of hope that she’d be able to come home, let alone have the possibility of leading a normal doggie life, I did a lot of thinking. I mean, I really am a believer in many things happening for a reason, and considering how this was extra painful for us because Yuki’s death still feels so recent (even though, yes, it’s been close to three years now), and I just can’t believe that this would happen without the universe having some reason.
Don’t ask me why, but I really felt like I was supposed to learn some lesson (other than “if it’s not 6 feet in the air and locked behind a steel wall, dogs, even if they’re well-behaved and never get into anything anymore, can get to it”). And somewhere between her bloodwork showing numbers that were frighteningly high and showing numbers that were sparkling with promise, it hit me — I’ve completely taken her for granted.
I’ve taken her presence for granted. Hollie’s too, for that matter. And I’ve definitely taken for granted the effect she has on people. I mean you should have seen the way the veterinarians and students and staff lit up when they saw her. And if she can do that while fighting for her life in a place where people are rushing from one emergency to the next, what else could she do? She’s always had a way of making people smile — she’s a silly, floppity, sweet girl, and people take to her instantly. Why am I keeping that all to myself?
So, now that things are looking up — she’s home, her numbers are practically back to normal (and likely will be within the next week) — I’ve decided that I’m going to work hard to share her. I’m going to really focus on training both dogs well so that we can take them more places. Jared and I used to take Yuki everywhere; it was easy because we just had her and she was so sweet to everyone, but once we got Rudi, we backed off because, well, I was lazy and it was more difficult. No more. We’re going to have two dogs who walk well on leash and politely sniff other dogs without going batshit crazy. That’s the first order of business.
Second? Once she’s properly trained, I’m getting Rudi, and maybe Hollie, too, certified as a therapy dog. I want to take her into nursing homes and hospitals, and take her to schools and libraries so she can help children learn to read aloud. If I’m getting a second chance at having her in my life, you can be damn sure I’m going to use that second chance to make a difference.
And I won’t lie — I’m also giving myself permission to take a break during the day to just sit with the dogs and get in some snuggles. I swear it’s good for the soul, and I know they enjoy it. And you know what? I’m giving you permission, too. To snuggle with your own pets, I mean, not mine. Although, I mean, if you really want to, I guess you could cuddle my dogs, too. See? I’m a sharer!
Final thought, for my Gainesville and surrounding area folks — I cannot recommend UF’s emergency animal care enough. The doctors we worked with were absolutely incredible, the facility is amazing, and, in the case of an animal facing renal issues, there’s the ability to do dialysis plus one of the best kidney specialists in the country. Rudi loved everyone there to the point of being excited when we returned for her check up. While she always wanted to go with us at first when we visited her during her stay, she was also happy to go with the doctor or student who took her back, which let me know that she was being loved and treated well when I wasn’t around. And we were treated well, also — everyone was so kind and informative and understanding. Special shout outs to Dr. Bandt, Dr. Genovese and Katie, who made this terrifically difficult time a little easier on all of us (and earned a friend for life in one special black dog).
In addition to not understanding basic concepts like moving, dogs do not understand pacing. Yesterday we were graced with perfect, sunny, 65 degree weather. Jared was home and, while we’re both still recovering from the plague, we got lots of sleep and were highly motivated to spend some time outdoors. So, off to the dog park we went.
Within seconds of pulling into the parking lot, the dogs turned into whimpering, whizzing little fuzzballs, fur on end with excitement. “Oh my god, mom! Dad! MOOOOOM! There’s another dog! He’s peeing! PEEING!!! Let me out let me out let me out let me oooouuuuuut!”
So we let them out, and WHOOSH! They were off. And to think that, once upon a time, we thought Hollie might not be able to run.
We got their attention again, however, with the Chuckit, which is definitely one of the best dog toys we own.
There was running and jumping and barking and panting and playing … for about half an hour.
And then, they both crashed in a nice, cool, shady patch of dirt. You know, like dogs do. It would’ve been swell to hang out for a couple more hours, but shoot, I had almost 100 photos to edit just from the time we did spend there (I blame the fancy new zoom lens Jared got me for Christmas), so maybe the shorter visit was for the best.
The last few days have been a whirlwind of exciting things, and I want to go into detail on all of it, but the whirlwind won’t stop for blogging, apparently, so I’m just going to have to stick with the highlights for now.
First things first — I got a new camera! (Take that, number 33!) This was not a rash decision by any means. We’d saved up gift cards, and done research, and finally, this weekend, I realized there were a number of things I really wanted a Big Girl Camera for on the horizon, and, well, why not just do it now? And, to top things off, a nice guy at Best Buy gave me his 10% off coupon to use, out of the blue. I wasn’t even showing (much) cleavage!
I’ve quickly learned that the curse of owning a really nice camera is that you tend to photograph everything, and, well, I have so many pictures that it’s almost impossible to edit down to a few of the best. So, I’m saying screw the best, and I’m just going to show a couple of favorites. And you’ll like it. (Well, I hope you’ll like it, anyway!)
We went to St. Pete Beach with the dogs. I won a slogan contest at I Love Dog Friendly, and the prize was two nights at a pet-friendly hotel. We chose the Tradewinds Island Grand because, for one thing, it’s a gorgeous property, and it’s near where we got married, and my parents were spending a week in the area, so we thought it would be fun to hang out with them for a couple of nights. AND IT WAS.
The hotel was great — we particularly liked the little fenced in play area and the doggie room service.
Back in the early days, when J and I were dating and just married, it was so weird to say good bye to each other for more than, like, the day. Now granted, I’m a more emotional person than most (and yes I cry at commercials and movie trailers all the time), but I would actually get teary if he was going out of town for two or three days.
(It was different, by the way, if I were the one leaving, because WOO HOO vacation!)
Now that he travels for work — a lot — that has obviously changed. After all, his first day of his current job was actually a two week trip to California and Puerto Rico, so we kind of had to get used to that quickly.
People are always asking me, “Isn’t that so haaard?” with a sympathetic tilt of the head. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried when we first realized just how much he’d be gone, but the thing that’s most surprising is how easily we both settled into things. I might talk to the dogs a bit more than I used to, and I definitely expect them to respond more often, but it’s very rarely lonely. And the nice thing is that, when he’s home, he’s really home. And since I work from home and we share an office, I get to see a lot of him when he’s here.
(Added bonus — when he’s been gone for a few days for work, I’m truly and genuinely excited to see him. How many people are that thrilled to see their spouses walk in the door after work?)
In fact, I just realized something last night. I’ve been trying to schedule my life around when he’s home; turning down offers for ladies’ night parties and other activities with girlfriends because he was in town and, well, didn’t that mean we needed to spend time together? And the irony of this is that it’s more important than ever that I have these friendships because there are so many days and nights when I’m on my own and would love to have something fun to do.
(Let me be very clear — at no point has J ever asked me to stay home with him. I mean, sure, he likes having me around — WHO WOULDN’T? — but he’s always encouraged me to hang out with my friends, and I’ve done the same for him.)
I read something the other day about how people don’t sleep enough during the week, and they try to make up for it by sleeping in on the weekends, but it doesn’t work that way. Getting more on Saturday and Sunday doesn’t change the fact that you got so little the rest of the week — you’re better off aiming to make each hour of sleep you can squeeze the best it can be.
See where I’m going with this?
It’s not that I don’t love sitting around and doing nothing with my husband. I honestly do — Sunday afternoon happy hour on our back porch is one of my favorite things in the whole wide world. But I also think it’s important that, rather than look at how much time we can spend in the same house, focus on doing more fun things, even if that means less time together.
So, I broke the cycle. He’s home this weekend, but I’m spending Saturday kayaking with friends. I don’t think we’ll have too hard a time squeezing in some fun on Sunday, especially if it’s anything like Sunday before last.
Yes, those were gratuitous dog pictures, but Hollie just turned a year old and it seemed appropriate. You’re welcome.
I have an answer for almost everything. Yes, it’s entirely possible that my answer is purely fictional, and that, by the time I’m finished, I’ll be fighting back the giggles because I got you to believe whatever I’m saying, but still, I pride myself on coming up with answers. And, when the question is about me, you’d better believe I’ll have an answer for you.
Except for one question: Why did you cut your hair?
I’ve been getting this question a lot (understandably, because my hair is now considerably shorter than it’s ever been), and I’ve been giving a lot of answers, but at the risk of sounding pathetically philosophical, none of those answers really, well, answer the question. I mean, I’m not lying when I say that I’ve been drooling over Michelle Williams’ hair on the cover of Vogue (it’s a wig! did you know that?), and it’s true that I was certainly ready for a change. But, I think the reason I gave the go-ahead was a little deeper than that.
Other people seem to be able to define me a little better than I can define myself. People say I’m athletic, or preppy, or a fashionista, or a million other things. And they’re all true, but I swear to god, I learn something new and surprising about myself every day. So, I guess I wanted a haircut that made people, even the people who’ve known me my whole life, take a second look at me, and maybe see the edgier side of me, or the fact that I can, on occasion, be spontaneous (you know, with the right planning and as long as I know what’s going on …).
Is it completely insane that I’m putting this much thought into why I chopped my hair? I mean, I don’t know why it’s not enough for me to just answer, “Because I thought it would be cool, and IT IS.” But hey, that’s just another side to me — I’m also complicated, apparently.
(In other news, how cute is Rudi in her little t-shirt there? It’s one of my old ones, but let’s be honest — it looks better on her than it ever did on me!)
It’s an ugly, rainy day today, but I just finished a two-mile run with Rudi. I love running in the rain — always have — and the reasons are two-fold. One, it keeps you cool; that’s a no brainer. The second reason is the one I fear might make me … kind of an ass.
Have you ever run in the rain and looked at the people watching you run by? It’s a whole different experience than when you run by on a beautiful day. When it’s sunny and gorgeous, people think, “Well, isn’t that nice. She’s out running and enjoying this beautiful day. Good for her.”
When you run in the rain, the people watching you are thinking more along the lines of, “Wow, she must really be dedicated to be running in this weather. She’s probably in great shape. I wish I had that kind of motivation.” And, you all, I really like when people think I’m a motivated runner who’s in great shape.
You see, they have no way of knowing that I’ve run a total of, like, SIX MILES since announcing I would be running 13.1 of them in a few months. (Well, eight miles, now, but shhh — this will be our secret!)
To those of you who have asked, I’m alright. I know it’s been a month since I’ve posted, and I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t been a really difficult month. It’s been awful. I miss Yuki everyday, but the outpouring of kind thoughts (and lovely cards and even donations made to Puppy Hill Farm in Yuki’s memory — thanks Deana!) has given me a new appreciation for the kindness of family, friends, and strangers. You know I’m not a hugger, but if I could, I would give each of you a massive bear hug (and probably make you cry, because I seem to be doing that to people lately).
Rudi is doing well, too — we’re trying to plan lots of puppy playdates with neighbors and friends, and she’s going for more walks than ever before. Plus, she’s getting spoiled as hell. Oh, you want to come up on the couch? Sure, just this once. You want another treat? I don’t see why not …
And yes, we will get another dog, one of these days. Not now, but when the time is right, we’ll know. And when that happens, I know there will be difficulties, but I have no doubt we’ll find the good in that, too.
There’s a reason dogs hang out in the kitchen when you’re cooking. They’re hoping that someone will drop the sour cream, and that, upon hitting the floor, the container will pop open and the contents will splatter all over the kitchen wall, the dishwasher (on the opposite side of the kitchen), and the floor.
What they don’t expect is for it to splatter all over them.
I know I’ve said it before, but I truly don’t think I could have two dogs with more opposite personalities. I took them over to my friends’ house, friends who have a four-year-old Golden Retriever and Rudi’s sister. Rudi and her sister don’t look much alike — Rudi is tall, skinny, and has short black fur with a little white on the chest. Her sis, Ariyah, is tall, has long black, brown, gray, and white fur, and … is decidedly not skinny. However, their mannerisms are almost identical
The two sisters and Blue, the Golden, love nothing more than playing nonstop. Yuki, on the other hand, would far prefer the other dogs be locked outside so she can have all the people to herself.
Oh, and also? While Yuki spends a good bit of her time hiding her butt so Blue can’t hump her, Rudi, my sweet little baby girl, spends a good bit of her time doing the humping. Awesome.
For more dog awesomeness, you’ve got to check out this post. Seriously.
Jared and the dogs play a game every morning. As he brushes his teeth, he lunges at Rudi, who grabs a toy and runs away. Yuki barks at Rudi for being an idiot. Then Rudi returns and the whole thing starts over again, repeating for a few minutes each morning. Fun, I know.
I’m trying to play, but apparently, I’m doing something wrong, because nobody seems to get too excited when I lunge. Instead, Rudi follows me around, holding a toy and looking sad. Of course, Yuki’s not far away, ready to growl and bark the moment Rudi starts to play.
I think we need a better game. Maybe we can just play “cuddle.”