An experience in spaying ..

Life With Dogs:

Our bulldogs Layla and Cupcake were spayed yesterday.

Layla, on happier days

As usual, Layla complained the ENTIRE way to the vet.  "I don't like car rides!" "Cupcake is the one in heat, why am I being punished too??" "The Jeep is too cold!" "I want to go home!" "This isn't fair!!" and so on. She politely threw up on the ride up to Christiansburg (I only know this from seeing the crate later on).

Foster, our Mastiff, spent the day wandering around looking for them. If you've never seen a curious Mastiff it is quite a site. Demanding, repeatedly, to check each side of the back door, despite the cold temperatures and rain. Finally he went to sleep on the couch - his worry wore him out.

As you can see, the stress took a toll.  It is so hard being so caring.

We were called to pick them up in Christiansburg yesterday rather than back in Salem this morning because of them being bulldogs (more chances of problems). So, the kids and I met Mom and Barry (aka Grandma & Grandpa) up there. Mom watched the kids while Barry helped me load the crates and dogs back up for the ride home.

When they brought out Cupcake they were carrying her. Apparently she thought she couldn't walk. She also thought she couldn't walk the other night here at home when she had to wear underwear. Apparently her back legs only work under the best of circumstances, in all other cases, she MUST be carried.

It is also hard being a little princess.  This is her "perch" on the couch.

Layla, once we got back to Salem & despite the anesthesia, once again began letting us know how much she resented the general mistreatment she was experiencing.  "That was awful!" "When will we be home??"  "Does Daddy know you let them do this to me?" "I want to go home!"
We EVENTUALLY (so Layla said) made it back home.  Justin took off a minute or two early so that he could almost meet us there.  You can tell he was worried sick.  Layla was the first to be taken out of the car, per her demands and since Cupcake still didn't think her legs worked anyway.

I walked her into the front yard while Justin took her crate inside.  Layla didn't need to pee so we walked to the front porch.  Now, there is A step.  Just a little step up.  We weren't sure if she could do this though given the circumstances.  She put her front paws on the porch and then hesitated.  ... And then she sat down on the front walk.  .... And then she rolled over onto her side .... into the lavender bush.  ... Where she stayed until, on her side, until Justin picked her up and carried her into her crate. 
She spent the rest of the evening pretty much sound asleep, though every now and then she would let us know she was still alive by giving us a gripe or two about her mistreatment.  Even a sedated bulldog can still complain, just groggily.

Cupcake we carried, because you know her legs don't work, inside and into her crate.  It is amazing how bulldogs can demand, and get, the literal Royal Treatment. 
She did fine the rest of the evening, though she did get up to let us know she needed to go out a couple of times.  OF COURSE, she was carried to and from.  Her butt and paws wiped (not at the same time), before being put back into her crate.  Mountain View Humane Society had given both girls a soft towel for their crates for the trip home, just in case.  Apparently our gals convinced even them they were Royals. 

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful.  Layla threw up again later when her pain pill finally hit her stomach (thankfully late enough afterwards that she didn't throw it up).  She's been sick again this morning, but, being Royalty she DOES have a sensitive stomach. 

Cupcake decided she really liked her new towel in her crate.  She smooshed it up against the crate door.  Then, this morning, she began nibbling on the tag.  I called to her and she quickly looked up and around, certain that it wasn't her who was being scolded.  She, of course, hadn't been doing anything.  ... right ...

Foster on the other hand has had the hardest time adjusting.  He's been very upset that the girls are being carried and he isn't. After-all, even though he weighs a good 150lbs now he still is certain that he is no more than the size of a bulldog.  And if they can be carried then he most certainly should be as well.  He's gone to the back door several times, out onto the frozen porch, only to look back at me with eyes that say "Well, are you going to carry me down these steps or not?"  ... not.
So, since he's had to endure such stress and trauma, and since he's not one to be out-done by any other dog, he's decided his stomach is now upset too.  He got given a gas pill and some rice in his food, which he didn't eat.  He's now back on the couch.  It is all that darn stress ...

Kid Stuff & Being a Mom

There are definite "you know you're a Mom when" moments.

Like when you find yourself at the end of your rope, mad with despair, cursing to yourself "who keeps putting my spoon in with the other spoons?!?!" .. and you're dead serious. Damnit, don't they know my tea spoon doesn't go in with the other spoons??? I am trying to seek my almighty moment of Zen, I'm being good and not drinking coffee (or rum), so where the hell is my tea spoon?!?!??!

Yea .. that was definitely a moment.


Not all moments induce such madness. Sometimes you have to learn to laugh at it. Like when you walk past your kids' room as see this

and it isn't even 9:30 in the morning yet. Actually, I snapped this photo and sent a copy of it to Justin, with the message of how I know he doesn't think I make the kids clean up at all during the day .. so here. He was shocked and wanted to know when the photo was taken. I told him that not only was that mess done this morning but that yesterday they made a mess of that equivalence a couple times over. ~ They have to clean up for lunch so that gives them plenty of chances to try and out-do their morning mess level later in the day.
I laughed about this one. They did clean it all up before lunch.

I happened to be walking by the living room yesterday morning and overheard this from Shannon - Tristan, see these towers I'm building?? When you see these towers Tristan you're eyes are gonna SPARKLE!!! And you're gonna say "Who built these towers" (my note, he said that in a voice filled with awe .. no joke) and I'm gonna say "I just can't bear to tell you." (my note again, that one was said like it was the heaviest of burdens)
He kept repeating this over and over to Tristan.

And then some afternoons, as I am trying to get dinner ready, scenes like this occur:

4pm - Shannon, with great pride - Mommy, see what I can do with Foster! (sets rope toy on table) - Ok Foster, I'm not going to give you your treat yet. (begins gently pulling dog's tail around the dog, making dog chase his tail) See Mommy, I can make him chase his tail!! Ok Foster, now you can have your treat. - (to me) Sometimes he chases his tail himself and sometimes he needs help chasing his tail.

-5:20pm - I am beginning to make dinner. Tristan opens the cabinet doors beneath the sink, looks in & asks "How come that leads to the basement??" (it doesn't), Foster leans in and looks too, apparently wondering the same thing.

OK.

Or I turn around to see a battle scarred cowboy straddling a butter knife next to a severed foot on my kitchen island. You think I am joking. I'm not.

And you just sigh....