If you had asked me a little over two years ago, I would have said that Bridgett was fast on her way out. Tim and I talked it over and as having a “backup dog” was very important to me (much less sad than getting a “replacement dog”) we went ahead and got Corwin. On September 27th, 2008, as Flickr tells me. Our bet, due to a large tumor that Bridgett had on her rump and how not fast she was moving, was that she maybe had about six months. That would give her enough time to help train the backup dog, just as Heidi helped to train Bridgett when she was young and a backup dog. (Heidi was a backup dog for BJ, who was a backup dog for Jackie, who was an Original Dog in about… 1983 or so. We’d had other dogs before Jackie, but not in a number of years. For those who are trying to do the math in their heads, counting Corwin that’s five dogs in 28 years. There was much overlap; it’s not like a dog died every 5.6 years!)

ANYWAY.

Clearly I don’t want to talk about Bridgett being sick.

One of the reasons we wanted a backup dog, a reason we thought it might be soon, is that a couple of times Bridgett just… she would get up from a nap and not be able to walk very well. Clearly in pain and hunched over, she would limp around. It would take her almost two minutes to stand up. It would take her more than five minutes to walk across the house from my office to the bedroom, and she’d have to stop five or six times in order to do it. She wouldn’t sit down – she’d just… stop. Hunched. Maybe a little grunt or a small whine. And the giant cracking sound of my heart shattering into a thousand pieces.

Slowly over the next 24 hours or so she’d move faster, hunch less, look less in pain.

And then it would pass. She’d be fine.

I mentioned this to my vet, and he thought it might be arthritis and that she’d just stiffened up while napping – which she does for hours upon hours. He said to start her on an aspirin a day and to call him any time if she was having one of those spells because he really wanted to see her walk.

Well, she had a spell on Thursday, and I was pretty sure that he didn’t work on Fridays but I called him anyway. At almost 5, because unfortunately that’s when she woke up from her nap, and even more unfortunately I needed to get to the post office and to Wild Iris for spinning. This time it seemed even worse, though, so I was worried. Not worried that I was going to have to make The Decision. The Decision is both easy and hard, and I’ve already made it. Animals can’t tell you, you know? They can’t tell you when they’ve had enough. All they can do is love you and trust that you, the pack leader, will make the best decision for them. When Heidi was diagnosed with cancer, and they said they could prolong her life by about six months with an operation *but* she wouldn’t be able to walk any more, I had her put to sleep right then. That’s no life for a dog; not for a 16-year old 60-lb dog. If she was young, and small enough that I could carry her (or if I could get her one of these) then hell yes I would have prolonged her life; but she hadn’t moved, hadn’t eaten, hadn’t had any water in days and was clearly in pain. I’m not so self-centered that I’d keep a dog around for me if it’s that hard for them. And I would make the same decision for Bridgett in a heartbeat. EXCEPT. She gets better within hours. Sometimes I think she’s just fucking with my heart.

ANYWAY.

Dr. Camp called me while I was at Wild Iris, and I rushed home to meet him and we could see what needed to be done. Every time Bridgett has one of these spells, I think this is it, this is the time. And this time she looked so pained, so hurt, so pathetic… I just… well. Anyway. Only when I got home, Dr. Camp wasn’t there yet, but Tim had come home and let both dogs out in the back yard and didn’t think that Bridgett was moving any slower than normal.

AUGH.

When the vet got there, though, and watched her as I made her walk back and forth across the room, he agreed that she was not as sprightly as normal. He prescribed some heavier pain pills for her and said they’d either work or they wouldn’t, depending on what was wrong with her. And it might be one of three things. Arthritis (best case scenario). Hip dysplasia (which I’d been preparing myself for since I got her, since she is such a large dog). Calcium deposits around the vertebra that have either formed into points or have broken off while she slept and are tearing into the muscles around her spine.

Well. That’s about all I have to say. This isn’t resolved, she’s only been on the new stuff since Thursday night. And she had another spell this afternoon after waking up from her nap. So.

How ’bout those Mets?

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From the awesome to the awesomely cute – how to make a teensy tiny BBQ grill out of an Altoid Tin. WANT! OMG teh cute!!! And it WORKS!

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Speaking of food, what the fuck should I have for dinner? Bwah! I keep clicking, just because it’s so funny. Also now I am hungry.

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Completely changing the subject, here are some absolutely nightmarish photos of fire tornadoes. Yikes.

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Not being a parent, I am usually wondering why parents worry about the things they do, and quizzing my friends who are parents on their fears and worries. I found the depth of this article on things parents should and shouldn’t worry about a little lacking, but.. then again… I’m not a parent.

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Here’s one for Sharon, who’s probably already seen this, but check out this cool Star Wars tattoo! Vaguely related: Press this button in dire situations only.

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Awwww, the geek cuteness, it  burns! Missed Connections from DragonCon.

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This is haunting – Ghosts in the Hollow. Probably only interesting to you if you’re into abandoned buildings, coal mines and miners, traditional music, and Appalachia. Which, you know, I am.

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Coming in January 2011: Roger Ebert presents “At the Movies“!

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Here’s one for Matt – 90 year old man tells a story of something that happened to him in WWII.

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see more Happy Chair Is Happy

We left Gainesville Saturday morning, and got to Cocoa just in time for lunch. Aunt Gay and Uncle Joe were still having lunch, so we hung out at the bar/seating area between the pool and the beach and Tim read while I knitted. I also started to walk, barefoot, down to the ocean but was turned back by the burning hot sands. Seriously, y’all. BURNING HOT. Remind me not to do that barefoot again. After we hooked up with Aunt Gay, we dropped our stuff off in the room, admired the view, and then walked around to get the lay of the hotel – we were staying in a resort right next to the con hotel, and it was a quick pretty walk around a pool and across a parking lot to get to the other hotel. After hanging for a while at the hospitality suite (which was very well-run, with lots of great food to offer – much of it home-made and healthy which is a lovely change) it was back to our rooms to get ready for the evening. As you can tell from my photos, I could barely stop staring at the ocean long enough to get dressed.

Then it was off to the reception for drinks and milling around. I saw many old friends and overall it felt like a family reunion. Inside, at dinner, the worst thing happened – fucking allergy attack. I had gone for the Ranch dressing on the salad (not recognizing the gravy-like dressing that was the other option) and although I do love Ranch it’s a crapshoot — some Ranch dressings contain eggs, and I was squarely hit by this one. I did NOT want to be that person who makes a scene at her uncle’s big night, but unfortunately even though I practically have stock in Benadryl, I happened to have THE ONE BAG with me that doesn’t have any. I have a bottle in just about every other bag I own. FAIL! Fortunately Aunt Gay discreetly asked around and procured some for me, and by about the end of dinner the swelling in my throat had gone down enough that I could finish eating. I stayed away from desert, a lime cheesecake. No more egg for me tonight, thanks.

The award ceremony seemed to start off slowly, but must have gone faster than I thought because before I knew it, Connie Willis was giving the funniest and loveliest introduction for Uncle Joe. She also included Aunt Gay in much of her speech, and it was sweet and touching and belly-laugh producing. Uncle Joe’s acceptance speech was also fantastic – funny and thoughtful – and can I just say that he looked alternately dapper and cute as a GD button?! After the ceremony (and I’m not trying to brush off the winners of awards; but mostly I was there for Uncle Joe, not knowing any of the nominees very well. I’ve put many of their books on my list, though) we went back up to the hospitality suite and showed off his award (and a painting that he was given, which I seem not to have gotten a photograph of). After it got more and more crowded and loud, we retired back to the hotel and sat up for a little while longer, before finally crashing.

Sunday morning we took our time getting moving (again, I could hardly tear my eyes away from the ocean), and left Cocoa around 11 in order to stop at my mom’s and have lunch with her and Dave. I know it will surprise no-one that we went to JB’s Fish Camp. Anyone? Anyone surprised? No? Didn’t think so. After lunch it was time to get back up to Gainesville.

And that was our weekend. Mom, it was great to see you and Dave; and Aunt Gay and Uncle Joe, congratulations and many thanks for the weekend! And thanks also to Sharon and Ginger for letting me out of the shop for the weekend – I’m grateful to have been able to go down for this!

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Holy shit, people suck, PEOPLE SUCK SO HARD. Sad photo warning. Woman charged with selling goth kittens. I say again: PEOPLE SUCK SO HARD.

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Perhaps in retaliation for the above, dog shoots hunter.

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I want to like this, I really really do; it combines two things I like. But this is just a little too creepy– Weeki Wachee Presents Alice in Wonderland.

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Here is some really creative and fantastic – and not photoshopped – miniature photography.

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More from my My Parents Were Awesome obsession (I really want both Jag and Sharon to send in some photos): I don’t know who Joan is, but I want to hang with her! This photo (Nancy) is so 70′s I can’t stand it. And I have a question for Matt about Peter – what do you think? WWI? Lastly (for this post), Janet can rock a hat.

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Here’s one for Quinn and Sharon – Hello Kitty Chainsaw. I’m totally getting that for Tim. Hee hee hee.

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