We watched Marley and Me last Friday. It was very funny and very close to home in many ways. I think Quigley might give Marley a run for his money on World's Worst Dog, though he's calmed down a lot in recent months. And the only reason Quigley didn't do all the things Marley did was that we never gave him the chance. He is our seventh dog, after all, and Marley was the Grogans's first. We'd be pretty pathetic if we'd learned nothing in all those years of raising dogs.
We'd never let Quigley sit in the front seat of the car with us for one, and never open the window while he was doing it for another. He'd be out an open window at the first opportunity... or at least the first time he spied a dog on the side of the road. And putting him in the garage during a thunderstorm while we go away? I think not. Big enough mistake to leave him in the house while we went out to dinner. At least now he's learned how to be in the crate peaceably, and that's been a huge help. He likes it in there, and goes in on his own accord almost every afternoon.
Another similiarity is that one of our dogs -- Grumpy, the big black and tan/bloodhound cross the dog in Light of Eidon was based on -- also suffered from gastric torsion and almost had to be put down because of it. He was young enough they could do the surgery to turn his stomach back over, but while he was on the operating table, the emergency vet came and told us that the stomach could turn back over again the very next day and it would be better if we just put him to sleep then. Fortunately our vet called the emergency room at that moment and told them she'd recently learned a new technique whereby the stomach could be permanently attached to the side of the abdominal wall to keep it from turning over again. So they sewed him up and within a month she did the surgery and we never had another problem with it. He ended up dying of cancer at 12, I think.
And yes, we've been through the loss of way too many dogs, not to cry streams of crocodile tears at the movie's end. It's funny how my attitude toward that grieving has changed over the years. It's no longer a bad thing to be avoided at all costs, but something deep and significant. The pain is there but so is the appreciation. You grieve precisely because the animal has meant so much to you, has become so interwoven in your life... has been such a tremendous blessing and companion over so many years and in so many small and constant ways -- happy, funny, pleasurable and sometimes intensely annoying. But still, dogs truly do enrich a person's life.
Marley and Me was a tribute to that. It's a funny story, but it's also the story of a dog's life, how he changes his owners, how he shares in so many of their really important life moments, the way he drove them nuts, but was there when the tough times came as well, his unquenchable exuberance for life... I loved the scene toward the end, when Grogan finally lets him off the leash at the beach and he just revels in his freedom, the water, the other dogs. They filmed it really well.
And it made us realize Quigley's not quite as unusual as he seems. My husband is always saying he doesn't think Quig's all dog, so that was another close-to-home part because Grogan said he didn't think Marley was all dog either. Or maybe not even a dog at all, but something entirely different. He actually ate a phone, and lived. Which Quigley has not done.
Yet.
~~~
Showing posts with label Quigley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Quigley. Show all posts
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
The Hound
Life the houndEquivocal
Comes at a bound
Either to rend me
Or to befriend me.
I cannot tell
The hound's intent
Till he has sprung
At my bare hand
With teeth or tongue.
Meanwhile I stand
And wait the event
~Robert Francis
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Hair Clip Kibble
Quigley ate one of my hair clips on Sunday night. It's about 2 1/2" long with about seven tines on a side. I found part of the tabs that you use to squeeze it open, the spring and a few tines. I guess he thought it was kibble.
I am sorry to say, that even after all my practice slamming things on the Lord my first reaction was not good. Later though, I got around to realizing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. If some tine were going to perforate his intestine, well that was in God's hands. I think it was God the Holy Spirit who brought to mind pictures of the droppings of some of our former dogs that had rocks in them. If rocks could pass through, the small pieces of plastic probably could. So why think about it and torture myself with worry? How about I pretend it never happened and just go on?
Anyway, so far, he seems to be fine. He was very ... um... active today. Very pushy, willful, playful, intense. He barked at the dog next door until I had to bring him in. Later he barked at the neighbors behind us who have recently moved in and started some sort of landscaping improvement project (they're cutting down the jungle of weeds in the yard). He's also got half a dozen excavation projects going here and there. And the wind kept blowing weird things into the yard or onto the ground, which of course he found and had to eat. I have no idea why he was so ... mischievous. Maybe it was the wind...
Last weekend was a three day weekend for my husband. The Mondays after 3-days I'm always especially tired. We also had our monthly communion and pot luck on Sunday. I'm usually tired after those, too. Together I figured I'd crash yesterday, but I did pretty well. The crash came today. I crash weirdly. Instead of dozing off or collapsing into a nap as would seem logical, I just want to putter, don't want to get down to work, want to drift from activity to activity...
I did manage to get in my two hours of work (though I was hoping for more) (actually I think it probably was more. Maybe three hours). I'm on chapter 13 now, and in a tinkering phase. This is where I look at the section that needs fixing, have no idea what to do. Add a few things, take some things out, move other things around, put some of the things I took out back. Take out some of the things I added. Print it all up and put it in a folder for tomorrow. When I'll do more or less the same thing.
The progress is slow, incremental, spiraling. I think someone called it noodling. You go from complete chaos and "wrongness" to a gradual improving of the scene or sequence, one small area at a time. I keep getting ideas for things I've already written, too, so I have to go back to take care of those.
We took Quigley for his three mile walk, and though I started out wondering if I'd have to be carried back, I think it actually woke me up. I've just finished dinner. Now it's time to stretch and go to bed!
Tomorrow... an article about elitism.
~~~~
I am sorry to say, that even after all my practice slamming things on the Lord my first reaction was not good. Later though, I got around to realizing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. If some tine were going to perforate his intestine, well that was in God's hands. I think it was God the Holy Spirit who brought to mind pictures of the droppings of some of our former dogs that had rocks in them. If rocks could pass through, the small pieces of plastic probably could. So why think about it and torture myself with worry? How about I pretend it never happened and just go on?
Anyway, so far, he seems to be fine. He was very ... um... active today. Very pushy, willful, playful, intense. He barked at the dog next door until I had to bring him in. Later he barked at the neighbors behind us who have recently moved in and started some sort of landscaping improvement project (they're cutting down the jungle of weeds in the yard). He's also got half a dozen excavation projects going here and there. And the wind kept blowing weird things into the yard or onto the ground, which of course he found and had to eat. I have no idea why he was so ... mischievous. Maybe it was the wind...
Last weekend was a three day weekend for my husband. The Mondays after 3-days I'm always especially tired. We also had our monthly communion and pot luck on Sunday. I'm usually tired after those, too. Together I figured I'd crash yesterday, but I did pretty well. The crash came today. I crash weirdly. Instead of dozing off or collapsing into a nap as would seem logical, I just want to putter, don't want to get down to work, want to drift from activity to activity...
I did manage to get in my two hours of work (though I was hoping for more) (actually I think it probably was more. Maybe three hours). I'm on chapter 13 now, and in a tinkering phase. This is where I look at the section that needs fixing, have no idea what to do. Add a few things, take some things out, move other things around, put some of the things I took out back. Take out some of the things I added. Print it all up and put it in a folder for tomorrow. When I'll do more or less the same thing.
The progress is slow, incremental, spiraling. I think someone called it noodling. You go from complete chaos and "wrongness" to a gradual improving of the scene or sequence, one small area at a time. I keep getting ideas for things I've already written, too, so I have to go back to take care of those.
We took Quigley for his three mile walk, and though I started out wondering if I'd have to be carried back, I think it actually woke me up. I've just finished dinner. Now it's time to stretch and go to bed!
Tomorrow... an article about elitism.
~~~~
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
He Doesn't Realize He's Only a Dog
Yes, Quigley is finally all better. He got us up Friday morning at 3 am, again, with squirting stools, again, and my husband decided we should take him to the vet. Since I had to take my mother to see her radiation oncologist that same day, I knew the only way I was going to fulfill that obligation and get the dog seen, was if the Lord worked it out. So I gave it to him (after some silly, angsty ruminations at 3:30 in the morning) and at 8am called the clinic. After describing the situation to the receptionist, she said they would have to get him in that day."Can you be here by 9am?"
"Awesome!"
So we saw the vet and I took my mother to her doctor's appointment. At the vet, I learned that Quigley weighs at least 73 pounds and is not yet done growing. He's going to get bigger, broader and stronger.
Swell.
I also learned that he is a very unusual dog with unusually dominant traits. As in, maybe we should work with a trainer. (I'm thinking, yes, we need to run him through an obedience class... or rather, I do, and I don't have the time right now. I have a book to finish!!) (And trigger finger which means no gripping strength in my right hand). He is a handful, she confirmed.
Indeed. When we arrived, after weighing him, they brought us to a large room with a bench in one corner and counter with computer on it in another and nothing else in the room. The walls had chest high wainscoting on them, and above that were various framed pictures. There was also a little dog's-hind-end hook by the door where you could hang leashes on the upraised tail. Well, after smelling the entire floor thoroughly, Quigley decided he needed to examine the artwork, up on his hind legs to get a closer look at every one of the photos and especially the dog bottom hook. When the animal technican came in, of course she was rudely mobbed. When the vet came in a similar interaction ensued.
Sigh. I felt like a helpless mom with a total brat. Of course that's what I have. And ADHD doggy who just gets completely out of control when he gets excited. He's not that bad at home with us, but he's still a pain with other people.
So, while I felt a bit embarrassed by my overbearing pooch, I also felt vindicated. He is weird, he is difficult, he is very strong, very intense... I'm not making it up! (Stu says he doesn't realize he's only a dog!)
Even better, they discovered that whatever had caused the original diarrhea, mostly likely something weird he'd eaten, that was no longer a problem but he did have a secondary infection caused by the diarrhea itself. She gave us a tube of Fast Balance-GI for dogs and horses. I was to give him two doses a day for two days. By Friday night we were already seeing some improvement. By Sunday night he was completely normal.
She told me I didn't need to do all that rice and chicken stuff. Hallelujah! No more cooking rice! No more cleaning dishes, and going to the store for more rice and more chicken. No more wondering if I should be feeding him more chicken, or more rice, or more kibble. Was I causing this problem? No. It was an overgrowth of normal intestinal bacteria. For which he's still taking pills, but beyond that, all has returned to normal.
So that's over for now. But I want to see if I can get some of the Fast Balance stuff to have on hand for the next time. I'm sure there'll be a next time. Quigley is incredibly indiscrete when it comes to his dining choices.
I've also made some very decent progress on The Enclave. Not so much in pages/chapters (though I am currently working on ch 12) as in conception, characterization and plot coming together to make something I'm actually starting to like. Of course, I finally started praying that the Lord would either give me something to like in the story, or show me what's there that I can like. It's nice to finally be getting a bit excited about it.
I've been holding more or less to my two hours of sacred time, though when I overslept this morning, that messed me up a bit. More from the standpoint of me telling myself it didn't matter if I started late because I got up late. Except that after I let myself get away with that, I wasn't very happy and realized that I wouldn't do that with a doctor's appointment, so why was I doing that with this. What didn't I understand about "sacred" time? But you have to go through these things to really get them cemented and I like this plan.
Speaking of, I'd best get to bed so I don't oversleep again.
~~~~~
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
On Getting out of God's Way
Quigley's latest ailment and what's going on in writing have come together to strengthen some understanding I'm gaining about what it means to get out of God's way (which I mentioned in an earlier post, His Order and Timing) . In giving Quigley's situation over to God first, but also -- in the physical realm -- to my husband to handle, it's occurred to me that once you are no longer the one having to make the decisions, you don't have to do the assessments of what is going on. I don't have to answer why his stool is a certain way and what is the best way to deal with it. I don't really have to think about it at all, since it's not my problem.
Neither do I have to think about the big picture, what is actually happening now in his intestine, what might happen tomorrow, what needs to be done about it, etc, etc, because I don't have to make any decisions. In the case of Quigley, as I said, I've given his situation over to my husband to decide. In the case of the book, it's a little harder to see because it seems like I am the one making the decisions. There's no one else in this office but me, so...
And yet, when I start thinking I have to make the decisions about it, do something, figure something out, I get overwhelmed. I can't make them. I've asked God exactly this question (How do I get out of your way in this?), and I believe that over the last few days He's answered me . Here are my conclusions relative to how that works with writing:
Neither do I have to think about the big picture, what is actually happening now in his intestine, what might happen tomorrow, what needs to be done about it, etc, etc, because I don't have to make any decisions. In the case of Quigley, as I said, I've given his situation over to my husband to decide. In the case of the book, it's a little harder to see because it seems like I am the one making the decisions. There's no one else in this office but me, so...
And yet, when I start thinking I have to make the decisions about it, do something, figure something out, I get overwhelmed. I can't make them. I've asked God exactly this question (How do I get out of your way in this?), and I believe that over the last few days He's answered me . Here are my conclusions relative to how that works with writing:
How Do I Get Out of God's Way?
1. Stop demanding or even trying to solve the problem.
2. Stop trying to figure out what the problem is.
3. Relax and let Him provide answers in His order and timing.
4. Read through the text & make whatever changes occur to me.
5. If nothing occurs, that's fine, too.
6. Remember this is supposed to be fun: a privilege and a form of play.
It's working. I applied all of that today, and have a bunch of ideas for chapter 10 and 15 pages of text to work with. The Unity Meeting that formerly had nothing to do with Cam and his next scene, now has everything to do with him. In fact, I switched it from Lacey's pov to his. So now I can do some things with her, as seen through his eyes, that I couldn't do before. I'm jazzed.
Oh, and how's Quigley doing? I have no idea. He's eating a lot of rice and chicken, is acting fairly normal and energetic, there were no dark stools today (so far) but there was one very runny one this evening, despite three doses of Pepto Bismol.
It is so freeing not to have to figure out what any of that means, or what I need to do, just to remember that God's got His hand on it all, He knows what needs to be done, what is going on, and He will take care of all of it.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Quigley Again
I'm really tired. Quigley has diarrhea again. It started Friday night. Saturday he wouldn't eat anything and was not quite his usual self. We went for a three mile walk though, and on it he passed stool that looked like chocolate syrup with a couple of lumps in it, and smelling strongly metallic (as in blood). I found that quite alarming. We came home and started him on a bland diet.
Sunday he seemed to be fine, except he was so hungry he was chewing everything, so it became a matter of do we want to put rice and chicken in him or have him put dirt, grass, sticks, the carpet, dustbunnies, you name it in himself? That night on the walk he only had two droppings and they were yellowish and pudding-y. Well, at least we were past the dark chocolate stuff.
We went home thinking he was on the road to recovery and I think I fed him a bit too much rice and chicken, because despite gobbling it down, about an hour after eating it, he threw it up. And the meal before that, I think, as well. Then he stood or lay around shivering, looking lost and out of it, and sometimes it seemed like he was going to sleep where he stood. It was past time for bed, and cold, so maybe that partially accounted for it.
Then at 3 am he woke me up to take him outside where he squirted the chocolate syrup stuff again. He did that two more times a half hour to an hour apart. In between I brought him in and he was all wired and wanting to eat. So I fed him, boiled more rice, mixed it with chicken. Fed him again.
By 8:45am the stool was yellow and puddingy again. So I've been feeding him small meals of rice and chicken anywhere from an hour to two and a half hours apart throughout the day. Also gave him a dose of Pepto Bismol according to Internet advice my hubby collected. We did that last time, too. It seems to help. Anyway, lots of cooking of rice, cleaning bowls and searching the backyard for watery things I hoped not to see there today. Thankfully, I didn't.
Tonight on his walk we had the yellow pudding again, some of it with blood, but none of the dark stuff.
Despite all that, and the fact that I'm running on about 4 hours of sleep, I stayed the course with my two hours of 100% concentration on writing, and have begun to patch together the new chapter 10.
Now, I have to go to bed. I hope.
~~~
Sunday he seemed to be fine, except he was so hungry he was chewing everything, so it became a matter of do we want to put rice and chicken in him or have him put dirt, grass, sticks, the carpet, dustbunnies, you name it in himself? That night on the walk he only had two droppings and they were yellowish and pudding-y. Well, at least we were past the dark chocolate stuff.
We went home thinking he was on the road to recovery and I think I fed him a bit too much rice and chicken, because despite gobbling it down, about an hour after eating it, he threw it up. And the meal before that, I think, as well. Then he stood or lay around shivering, looking lost and out of it, and sometimes it seemed like he was going to sleep where he stood. It was past time for bed, and cold, so maybe that partially accounted for it.
Then at 3 am he woke me up to take him outside where he squirted the chocolate syrup stuff again. He did that two more times a half hour to an hour apart. In between I brought him in and he was all wired and wanting to eat. So I fed him, boiled more rice, mixed it with chicken. Fed him again.
By 8:45am the stool was yellow and puddingy again. So I've been feeding him small meals of rice and chicken anywhere from an hour to two and a half hours apart throughout the day. Also gave him a dose of Pepto Bismol according to Internet advice my hubby collected. We did that last time, too. It seems to help. Anyway, lots of cooking of rice, cleaning bowls and searching the backyard for watery things I hoped not to see there today. Thankfully, I didn't.
Tonight on his walk we had the yellow pudding again, some of it with blood, but none of the dark stuff.
Despite all that, and the fact that I'm running on about 4 hours of sleep, I stayed the course with my two hours of 100% concentration on writing, and have begun to patch together the new chapter 10.
Now, I have to go to bed. I hope.
~~~
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Quigley Discovers the Bear Rug
I think I mentioned that we have a bear rug on the wall of my office/son's former bedroom/storage room. One day, about a month or so ago, Quigley discovered it. He thought it was quite alarming and should NOT be on the wall. So he did what he always does when he discovers something that is not how he thinks it should be, or that he wants, or that is scary, or is weird or different or sometimes, just because: he started barking at it. I thought it was so funny I took a picture. (Again, you can see a bigger version if you click on the photo)Of course from Quigley's position you can see the teeth in the bear's open mouth, so perhaps this accounted for his alarm.
Today I worked my way through the end of chapter 5. It was difficult, but I think it's close to being "right". Then I looked through chapter 6 and it's here where things are going to get really difficult. For one thing, I don't think there's much of anything in chapter 6 that amounts to anything. So I'm going to have to do some cutting and shifting and figuring. What I hope to do is move some elements forward from where they are currently in the story. Or if not that, I could develop my pov character and her friend a bit more than I have. I'll have to see where the Lord leads.
Oh, and in yesterday's post I tried to show how Pastor Rory Clark had personalized one of his concepts using these little arrows or whatever they are: <
What it should have said (and I've fixed it on the blog itself) is:
God considers [insert your problem here] to be His responsibility.
Just wanted to clarify that because the line has been one I've really enjoyed these last few days. And one I've used all the time.
~~~
Sunday, August 17, 2008
The AZ Group
Here is a smaller than I expected picture of the AZ group that attended the 2008 New England Bible Conference in Massachusetts last week. I'm second from the left. As you can see, most of us are wearing long pants, long-sleeved shirts/jackets, etc. I should note that the tallest person in the back is not from Arizona, so far as I know. Also, two of our group reside in Colorado in the summer, Tucson in the winter, so I guess they could count for Colorado and Arizona.It already seems like an age ago. At church today people asked how my week was, and I could hardly remember. Well, there's been a continuing issue with Quigley. He is acting all fine and lively but his digestive tract has not been right for days, so I've been cooking a lot of rice and examining a lot of droppings.
Tomorrow (Monday) I take my mother for her third chemo session. This time we are bringing our lunches since I expect they will want to go very slowly with the infusion to avoid a repeat of the reaction she had last time.
Here is a snippet from my conference notes that I especiall liked:
Every day when I wake up, I should say, "What does God have planned for me today? What will happen in my life that I can learn of the Lord Jesus Christ and how He responded to life and to His father."
~~~~
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Quigley Update
Well, once I gave the whole affair over to the Lord and stopped trying to take care of it myself, He took care of it.
Quigley came home from his walk with Stu last night just fine, and Stu had gotten another stool sample, similar to the one I had, but in more quantity. Quigley drank and we gave him a bit of Pepto-Bismol as per Internet advice. Then he ate a small bit of rice and chicken, and was much more alert and lively than he'd been all day, playing around and generally being a nice dog. Right before bed he ate another bit of rice and chicken and we decided we didn't need to bring him in this morning (Thursday).
I do think, however, based on the way he's acting today, that he really wasn't feeling well yesterday and was indeed more lethargic than normal. Today he's been very interested in food, hanging around the kitchen, pressing himself against me as he tries to get close to the counter, pouncing on bits of ice if they fall from the freezer, none of which he did yesterday. Today I've already had to lock him in his crate for chewing on the rug, and just now had to chase him out of the office for trying to chew the cardboard boxes of my bookmarks. Whereupon he went outside and wrestled with a large, plastic dog-biscuit can. Again, not how he had behaved yesterday. He's also eaten three times already, and ends by looking for more.
Yesterday, he literally just lay around, getting up only to change rooms. When I put him outside, he lay down where he was.
Also, I have to fill in a bit of back story regarding my experiences with dogs and diarrhea. Our first dog got colonitis one summer when we were staying in Flagstaff -- squirted puddles of bloody diarrhea and had to spend a couple days in the hospital. Our third dog had bloody diarrhea from parvo and had to spend a day in the hospital. Most recently, Bear had diarrhea and vomiting during an acute attack of kidney failure on a Saturday, and I was advised to withhold water and food and wait for the doctor on Monday, when it turned out what I should have done was bring him in immediately for sub-Q fluids. So I'm kinda prepped to get weird about diarrhea that's bloody and doesn't end.
Not that that's any excuse for freaking out, just that I can see I have a weakness there. Of course I have a bigger weakness in repeatedly thinking I have to solve the problems and head off the disasters I'm envisioning, when I should be bringing them to the Lord.
~~~~
Quigley came home from his walk with Stu last night just fine, and Stu had gotten another stool sample, similar to the one I had, but in more quantity. Quigley drank and we gave him a bit of Pepto-Bismol as per Internet advice. Then he ate a small bit of rice and chicken, and was much more alert and lively than he'd been all day, playing around and generally being a nice dog. Right before bed he ate another bit of rice and chicken and we decided we didn't need to bring him in this morning (Thursday).
I do think, however, based on the way he's acting today, that he really wasn't feeling well yesterday and was indeed more lethargic than normal. Today he's been very interested in food, hanging around the kitchen, pressing himself against me as he tries to get close to the counter, pouncing on bits of ice if they fall from the freezer, none of which he did yesterday. Today I've already had to lock him in his crate for chewing on the rug, and just now had to chase him out of the office for trying to chew the cardboard boxes of my bookmarks. Whereupon he went outside and wrestled with a large, plastic dog-biscuit can. Again, not how he had behaved yesterday. He's also eaten three times already, and ends by looking for more.
Yesterday, he literally just lay around, getting up only to change rooms. When I put him outside, he lay down where he was.
Also, I have to fill in a bit of back story regarding my experiences with dogs and diarrhea. Our first dog got colonitis one summer when we were staying in Flagstaff -- squirted puddles of bloody diarrhea and had to spend a couple days in the hospital. Our third dog had bloody diarrhea from parvo and had to spend a day in the hospital. Most recently, Bear had diarrhea and vomiting during an acute attack of kidney failure on a Saturday, and I was advised to withhold water and food and wait for the doctor on Monday, when it turned out what I should have done was bring him in immediately for sub-Q fluids. So I'm kinda prepped to get weird about diarrhea that's bloody and doesn't end.
Not that that's any excuse for freaking out, just that I can see I have a weakness there. Of course I have a bigger weakness in repeatedly thinking I have to solve the problems and head off the disasters I'm envisioning, when I should be bringing them to the Lord.
~~~~
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
A Warning from our Pastor
On Monday, as we were making our various ways home from the New England conference, our pastor sent us all an email warning which said, in part:
But the next day, he still had it. Sometimes it was thicker than others and in late afternoon he left one that had blood in it. So we fed him a bland diet of rice and chicken. He loves rice and chicken and gets all excited just when I'm making the rice. He gobbled down a whole batch of it last night. Then we took him on his walk and though he stopped frequently, he never left enough to even pick up.
This morning when things were a little bit more formed in his first two droppings, with no blood n them, I thought he was getting better. Then he refused to eat. No rice, no chicken, no yogurt (which he loves) -- he wasn't even very interested in the treats during our (very brief) training session. And he seemed very lethargic. Finally I called the vet, and was told to withhold food for the rest of the day and bring in a stool sample this afternoon or tomorrow (Thursday) morning.
Well, when I went out around three o'clock and found he'd just had another squirt, and it was very runny with blood now mixed throughout, I collected as much of it with a spoon as I could (about a tsp) and put into a ziplock bag and took it to the clinic for sampling.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to do both parts of the test, though the part that was done didn't show any bacteria or parasites (the other part still could, which means we still don't know anything) (which seems to be the story of my life when it comes to medical tests, both for myself and for my dogs). When I was asked if Quigley was being normal in all respects except for this, I said no, and told about his lack of interest in eating, the lethargy, and the limited drinking. That wasn't good, and I was advised to bring him in tomorrow, along with another stool sample, because he might need to be watched or get fluids.
The additional complicating factor in all this is that it turns out my husband doesn't think Quigley's acting particularly lethargic. Apparently he's been acting like this for the whole week I was away. If he's still eager to take his walk, and able to do so, then he's behaving as he has been for the last 9 days. If that is so, then we don't need to bring him in tomorrow (Thursday) and have him watched and get fluids but can go ahead with our original plan to wait until Thursday night/Friday morning to see if he's going to get better before going in to the vet at all. Arg.
I can soooo see that this little affair has been orchestrated to produce maximum uncertainty and confusion and distraction. Why am I not surprised? (Our battle is not against blood and flesh...) If I'd not been gone a week before this happened, and Quigley had suddenly gotten the diarrhea and starting acting like this, then it would have been different, because the behavior is strikingly different from what it was before I left. If he'd not gotten the diarrhea and was acting all mellow and stodgy like he is, then it would be easy to believe that he is finally "maturing" into a typical adult hound. (Even the not eating wouldn't be all that alarming because sometimes in the morning he doesn't eat much) Instead... we have confusion, inconclusive tests, disagreement from different perspectives, the pressure to try to see into the future and from that predict the best course of action, tension, the huge temptation to worry... DISTRACTION!
Well, I was warned. And now have opportunity to apply all the doctrines I've learned, especially last week. And what I know is... I have no clue. I don't know what's wrong with him. I don't know what is going to happen. I don't know what he needs. I don't know what to do. I can't stand not knowing, and I can't stand all the waiting in uncertainty. Which is probably why this test is here. Again.
So I have to put it all into God's hands and not think about it. Even if I make wrong decisions, He can still take care of things. It's His plan that matters, not mine. One of the things we learned last week was the importance of really focusing on and believing and living in the fact that He loves us. That He loves me. Personally. Specifically.
When you know that you are loved with the kind of love He has for us, that would drive Him to send His Son to the cross, that would drive His Son to agree to GO to the cross -- and that this One who loves you is the creator and ruler of the Universe -- what can there possibly be to worry about? He will handle it. He wants you ... He wants ME to trust Him with all of this and forget about trying to work it out myself. He really and truly does not need me to help Him with all my attempts to peer into the future and make the "right" decisions so as to avoid a possible disaster, to demand we do things my way because "I am right." How do I know I'm right? Maybe I'm not. I have no clue.
What I do know is that while I definitely do not have all the facts, He does. What I know is that nothing happens in my life that He did not choose, down to the smallest detail, to be a part of His perfect and wonderful plan that provides ultimately only His highest and best for me. If I don't understand, well, that's part of it. Because more than anything He just wants that trust. He wants me to know who He is and then to trust Him in that, regardless of what sight says. And He wants me to bring to Him all my concerns by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving...
So right now I have no idea what is going to happen. Except that I think I'm going to go eat dinner now, and maybe I'll manage to get in a bit more work on Enclave this evening before it's time for bed. As for tomorrow? One day at a time.
~~~~
So I got home Monday night, we took Quigley on his walk and he had runny, watery diarrhea. Well, maybe it was stress, we thought. Or something he ate. No biggie. He seems to get diarrhea somewhat regularly, though not usually all watery.All of you are now going to face brand new challenges, especially from our best friend's enemy - BEWARE!
The conference has not ended; THE CONFERENCE HAS JUST BEGUN.
But the next day, he still had it. Sometimes it was thicker than others and in late afternoon he left one that had blood in it. So we fed him a bland diet of rice and chicken. He loves rice and chicken and gets all excited just when I'm making the rice. He gobbled down a whole batch of it last night. Then we took him on his walk and though he stopped frequently, he never left enough to even pick up.
This morning when things were a little bit more formed in his first two droppings, with no blood n them, I thought he was getting better. Then he refused to eat. No rice, no chicken, no yogurt (which he loves) -- he wasn't even very interested in the treats during our (very brief) training session. And he seemed very lethargic. Finally I called the vet, and was told to withhold food for the rest of the day and bring in a stool sample this afternoon or tomorrow (Thursday) morning.
Well, when I went out around three o'clock and found he'd just had another squirt, and it was very runny with blood now mixed throughout, I collected as much of it with a spoon as I could (about a tsp) and put into a ziplock bag and took it to the clinic for sampling.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to do both parts of the test, though the part that was done didn't show any bacteria or parasites (the other part still could, which means we still don't know anything) (which seems to be the story of my life when it comes to medical tests, both for myself and for my dogs). When I was asked if Quigley was being normal in all respects except for this, I said no, and told about his lack of interest in eating, the lethargy, and the limited drinking. That wasn't good, and I was advised to bring him in tomorrow, along with another stool sample, because he might need to be watched or get fluids.
The additional complicating factor in all this is that it turns out my husband doesn't think Quigley's acting particularly lethargic. Apparently he's been acting like this for the whole week I was away. If he's still eager to take his walk, and able to do so, then he's behaving as he has been for the last 9 days. If that is so, then we don't need to bring him in tomorrow (Thursday) and have him watched and get fluids but can go ahead with our original plan to wait until Thursday night/Friday morning to see if he's going to get better before going in to the vet at all. Arg.
I can soooo see that this little affair has been orchestrated to produce maximum uncertainty and confusion and distraction. Why am I not surprised? (Our battle is not against blood and flesh...) If I'd not been gone a week before this happened, and Quigley had suddenly gotten the diarrhea and starting acting like this, then it would have been different, because the behavior is strikingly different from what it was before I left. If he'd not gotten the diarrhea and was acting all mellow and stodgy like he is, then it would be easy to believe that he is finally "maturing" into a typical adult hound. (Even the not eating wouldn't be all that alarming because sometimes in the morning he doesn't eat much) Instead... we have confusion, inconclusive tests, disagreement from different perspectives, the pressure to try to see into the future and from that predict the best course of action, tension, the huge temptation to worry... DISTRACTION!
Well, I was warned. And now have opportunity to apply all the doctrines I've learned, especially last week. And what I know is... I have no clue. I don't know what's wrong with him. I don't know what is going to happen. I don't know what he needs. I don't know what to do. I can't stand not knowing, and I can't stand all the waiting in uncertainty. Which is probably why this test is here. Again.
So I have to put it all into God's hands and not think about it. Even if I make wrong decisions, He can still take care of things. It's His plan that matters, not mine. One of the things we learned last week was the importance of really focusing on and believing and living in the fact that He loves us. That He loves me. Personally. Specifically.
When you know that you are loved with the kind of love He has for us, that would drive Him to send His Son to the cross, that would drive His Son to agree to GO to the cross -- and that this One who loves you is the creator and ruler of the Universe -- what can there possibly be to worry about? He will handle it. He wants you ... He wants ME to trust Him with all of this and forget about trying to work it out myself. He really and truly does not need me to help Him with all my attempts to peer into the future and make the "right" decisions so as to avoid a possible disaster, to demand we do things my way because "I am right." How do I know I'm right? Maybe I'm not. I have no clue.
What I do know is that while I definitely do not have all the facts, He does. What I know is that nothing happens in my life that He did not choose, down to the smallest detail, to be a part of His perfect and wonderful plan that provides ultimately only His highest and best for me. If I don't understand, well, that's part of it. Because more than anything He just wants that trust. He wants me to know who He is and then to trust Him in that, regardless of what sight says. And He wants me to bring to Him all my concerns by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving...
So right now I have no idea what is going to happen. Except that I think I'm going to go eat dinner now, and maybe I'll manage to get in a bit more work on Enclave this evening before it's time for bed. As for tomorrow? One day at a time.
~~~~
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Catching Up
Where does the time go? I knew I had missed a few posts but when I logged on and checked the last one, I was astonished to find it was a week ago. Well, there've been a series of smallish but annoying happenings that were momentarily distracting, but turned out not to be a big deal. Nuisances, time consuming ones, but no more.
Like the bizarre cyst I've developed under my tongue. I've actually had it for maybe two months, and thought it was a blister that I sometimes get from a food allergy. I had been pressing on it with my tongue, releasing the fluid in it, and flattening it. I kept thinking it would go away. Finally, last Wednesday, I couldn't release the fluid no matter how hard I pressed. That's when I realized that I'd had it too long, and probably should get it looked at. But who would I call to look at it? Thursday morning I talked to the nurseline through my husband's work, and was advised to see a doctor within three days, so I called my primary care physician and got in that afternoon.
Of course, it's distracting, especially with all the cancer talk that's been going on in our lives lately, and not just because of my mother. But I more or less refused to let myself go there and a good thing, since it's only a nuisance, the doctor said. Something that can be cut out on an outpatient basis (or might even go away on its own). He thought I'd get in with an ear, nose and throat guy within a week but they were booked up, so it won't be till next week that I can see anyone. Meanwhile I'm really thinking the thing is going away on its own.
On Tuesday (last week) I had replied -- finally -- to an email asking if I'd read a new fantasy novel for possible endorsement. Normally I don't do that sort of thing, but this time, being on "vacation" I thought I might give it a shot. The only problem was that the book in question is the second in a series of which I'd not yet read the first. But the publishers willingly offered to send me the first book to read in prepartion for the second. I told them that I'm a fast reader and if a book grabs me I'll finish it in a day or two, depending on the length. Both books arrived Wednesday evening, so I figured I'd have Thursday to read the first. And except for the intrusion of the matter of the cyst, I did. Except...
It didn't grab me. I kept stopping and thinking of other things I could do. Wanted to do. Eventually I stalled out at something like page 31. The next day I read about three more pages and stalled out again. I haven't been able to pick it up since. I have read that for some readers it's slow going in the beginning, but picks up later, so maybe that will be my experience as well. But I also don't think it's my cup of tea to begin with. And there's almost an aversion in me now toward reading it...
On Friday, Quigley tore up one of the cushions on one of our couches while we were away at dinner. We returned to a happy-to-see- us, tail-wagging dog at the back door, walked through the kitchen and dining room to the living room and stood there with our mouths hanging open. He had shredded the fabric and the batting, and tore out chunks of the foam base of the cushion, further reduced some of the chunks to bits and pieces, added in the shredding of several paper items and spread it all across the living room floor. He was having a jolly, old time. We were not.
None of our dogs has ever done such a thing, so we were completely shocked that he had. The only good thing about it is that that couch was old and on its last leg. We planned to replace it with a new one and were only waiting until we were sure Quigley was reliable. Well. We're sure now that he is not. Just in case we doubted, tonight he chewed a hole in his bed.
And yesterday he tore a hole in the orca chew toy I'd just bought him that was supposed to be for Rottweiler-type power chewers and designed to provide "long-lasting chewing enjoyment." Try five minues.
Friday he swiped the Fels Naptha soap off the kitchen counter that I was using to scrub barbeque grease out of my shorts... which gave him diarrhea for the next four days (the Fels Naptha, not the shorts). Sunday he was mugged at the dog park by a huge German Shepherd, a husky or malamute type dog and a pack of followers...
But tonight he and I took a walk around the park in perfect weather, with very few people, storm winds cooling us off and storm clouds providing great sunset views.
And yesterday my mother had her first session of chemotherapy where everything went splendidly. Instead of the six hours they told us it might take, it only took two. She had no allergic reactions, little discomfort, did not get sick and had a generally normal day. Today she had to return for a post-treatment shot designed to keep her blood count from dropping, one that she was warned might make her feel bad and achy. So far, though, that's not bothered her either. I grateful for the Lord's answers to prayer, and His gentleness with her in this situation.
And finally, rounding out the end of the missing week, today I talked with my editor for 2 hours about The Enclave as she gave me her feedback on it. Almost none of it was surprising (except maybe the part about it actually hanging together and not being boring). I'm not sure I'm ready to work on it yet, but I'm thinking I might start reading it tomorrow or the next day. Just read it through, nothing more. See what's there, but not make myself have to figure anything out. But first I have a couple of birthday cards to finish.
Well, that's it for this post. Hopefully I'll be back tomorrow rather than next week! That's my intent, anyway.
--
Like the bizarre cyst I've developed under my tongue. I've actually had it for maybe two months, and thought it was a blister that I sometimes get from a food allergy. I had been pressing on it with my tongue, releasing the fluid in it, and flattening it. I kept thinking it would go away. Finally, last Wednesday, I couldn't release the fluid no matter how hard I pressed. That's when I realized that I'd had it too long, and probably should get it looked at. But who would I call to look at it? Thursday morning I talked to the nurseline through my husband's work, and was advised to see a doctor within three days, so I called my primary care physician and got in that afternoon.
Of course, it's distracting, especially with all the cancer talk that's been going on in our lives lately, and not just because of my mother. But I more or less refused to let myself go there and a good thing, since it's only a nuisance, the doctor said. Something that can be cut out on an outpatient basis (or might even go away on its own). He thought I'd get in with an ear, nose and throat guy within a week but they were booked up, so it won't be till next week that I can see anyone. Meanwhile I'm really thinking the thing is going away on its own.
On Tuesday (last week) I had replied -- finally -- to an email asking if I'd read a new fantasy novel for possible endorsement. Normally I don't do that sort of thing, but this time, being on "vacation" I thought I might give it a shot. The only problem was that the book in question is the second in a series of which I'd not yet read the first. But the publishers willingly offered to send me the first book to read in prepartion for the second. I told them that I'm a fast reader and if a book grabs me I'll finish it in a day or two, depending on the length. Both books arrived Wednesday evening, so I figured I'd have Thursday to read the first. And except for the intrusion of the matter of the cyst, I did. Except...
It didn't grab me. I kept stopping and thinking of other things I could do. Wanted to do. Eventually I stalled out at something like page 31. The next day I read about three more pages and stalled out again. I haven't been able to pick it up since. I have read that for some readers it's slow going in the beginning, but picks up later, so maybe that will be my experience as well. But I also don't think it's my cup of tea to begin with. And there's almost an aversion in me now toward reading it...
On Friday, Quigley tore up one of the cushions on one of our couches while we were away at dinner. We returned to a happy-to-see- us, tail-wagging dog at the back door, walked through the kitchen and dining room to the living room and stood there with our mouths hanging open. He had shredded the fabric and the batting, and tore out chunks of the foam base of the cushion, further reduced some of the chunks to bits and pieces, added in the shredding of several paper items and spread it all across the living room floor. He was having a jolly, old time. We were not.
None of our dogs has ever done such a thing, so we were completely shocked that he had. The only good thing about it is that that couch was old and on its last leg. We planned to replace it with a new one and were only waiting until we were sure Quigley was reliable. Well. We're sure now that he is not. Just in case we doubted, tonight he chewed a hole in his bed.
And yesterday he tore a hole in the orca chew toy I'd just bought him that was supposed to be for Rottweiler-type power chewers and designed to provide "long-lasting chewing enjoyment." Try five minues.
Friday he swiped the Fels Naptha soap off the kitchen counter that I was using to scrub barbeque grease out of my shorts... which gave him diarrhea for the next four days (the Fels Naptha, not the shorts). Sunday he was mugged at the dog park by a huge German Shepherd, a husky or malamute type dog and a pack of followers...
But tonight he and I took a walk around the park in perfect weather, with very few people, storm winds cooling us off and storm clouds providing great sunset views.
And yesterday my mother had her first session of chemotherapy where everything went splendidly. Instead of the six hours they told us it might take, it only took two. She had no allergic reactions, little discomfort, did not get sick and had a generally normal day. Today she had to return for a post-treatment shot designed to keep her blood count from dropping, one that she was warned might make her feel bad and achy. So far, though, that's not bothered her either. I grateful for the Lord's answers to prayer, and His gentleness with her in this situation.
And finally, rounding out the end of the missing week, today I talked with my editor for 2 hours about The Enclave as she gave me her feedback on it. Almost none of it was surprising (except maybe the part about it actually hanging together and not being boring). I'm not sure I'm ready to work on it yet, but I'm thinking I might start reading it tomorrow or the next day. Just read it through, nothing more. See what's there, but not make myself have to figure anything out. But first I have a couple of birthday cards to finish.
Well, that's it for this post. Hopefully I'll be back tomorrow rather than next week! That's my intent, anyway.
--
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
The Thief Strikes Again
[It's raining! As I write this. A thunderstorm blew into town today. Lots of lightning, not much thunder. We took Quigley to the dogpark and got sort of rained on while he played with a Rottweiler.]
So yesterday amidst the whole cut-up paper clip incident described in the last post, I had informed Quigley quite clearly that I was very unhappy with him for getting something and running away and eating it before I could see what it was... very unhappy. Not going to have anything to do with him unhappy. Banish him to the backyard without even doing tricks unhappy.
Okay, yes, when I found the clip and realized he wasn't going to die, after all, and we weren't going to have to spend $2000 after all I put all that behind me and let him back in, so it only lasted the morning.
But still, it didn't do very much good. At the end of the day, I was in the dining room and things got very quiet. I realized I didn't know where he was so I went into the living room and found him coming in from the bathroom -- actually I think he was looking for me. So I could see what he had: the roll of toilet paper in his mouth and the funniest look on his face. Kind of "I know I'm bad/Are we going to play?" He was too funny, so I took a picture, then got the treat and traded it for the toilet paper and he didn't run away but gave it up easily...
So yesterday amidst the whole cut-up paper clip incident described in the last post, I had informed Quigley quite clearly that I was very unhappy with him for getting something and running away and eating it before I could see what it was... very unhappy. Not going to have anything to do with him unhappy. Banish him to the backyard without even doing tricks unhappy.
Okay, yes, when I found the clip and realized he wasn't going to die, after all, and we weren't going to have to spend $2000 after all I put all that behind me and let him back in, so it only lasted the morning.
But still, it didn't do very much good. At the end of the day, I was in the dining room and things got very quiet. I realized I didn't know where he was so I went into the living room and found him coming in from the bathroom -- actually I think he was looking for me. So I could see what he had: the roll of toilet paper in his mouth and the funniest look on his face. Kind of "I know I'm bad/Are we going to play?" He was too funny, so I took a picture, then got the treat and traded it for the toilet paper and he didn't run away but gave it up easily...
----
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Cut-Off Paper Clips
This morning I was supposed to take my mother to the outpatient services at the hospital to have an MRI. Yesterday in planning our timing, I said I would aim to pick her up at 7:40 barring any more crises (like the matter of the baby bird last week). But that, of course, having a dog, a crisis was not wholly unexpected.
And I'd just posted yesterday some of Sun Tzu's principles of strategic keys to victory.
So of course, there was a crisis. Yesterday I tried to fix my broken purse shoulder strap clasp with a cut off paper clip, a cockamamie idea whose efficacy and wisdom I even wondered about at the time. The spring had come out, you see, so the little latch had nothing to hold it in place and the strap came off the D-ring every time I set the purse down. So I cut off the end of a paper clip, squeezed the "U" end into a "V" and stuck it into the spring hole, holding the latch in place. That seemed to do the trick and I hung my purse on the back of the dining room table chair where I always do.
Later, Quigley had some sort of weird fit there, chasing his tail, biting it, tugging on it, going round and round as he caroomed off the walls, the dog crate and maybe the purse, though it was on the opposite side of the chair. Then this morning, as I was getting ready to go and all was progressing smoothly, Quigley suddenly romped from the dining room into the living room with something. He was tossing it about, falling down, rolling around, having a good old time as he often does with stolen things like socks, pens, a hair clip, a hair scrunchie and just as often, a piece of his chew. Since his reaction to me trying to see what he has is now to run away (grumble, steam) I decided to head him off by getting some sausage to offer him as a bribe. But as soon as he saw me coming he ran, chewing on the mystery object, and when I tried to get him, he scrambled under the coffee table, chewing even more. I had to haul him out by his hips. By the time I looked in his mouth, I found nothing but a few slimy bits of food. Whatever he'd gotten, it was gone.
"Fine!" I told him. "Eat whatever you find lying about and if it kills you, at least I won't have to deal with you any more!"
I put him outside, and about eight minutes before time to leave I picked up my purse, set it on the table, the strap fell off and I realized the cut-off paper clip "stay" was gone. I was immediately absolutely sure that was the mystery item he'd found earlier. And eaten. The three quarter-inch long metal V with two points on the end was now making its way through his digestive tract where it would surely penetrate delicate intestinal walls and kill him! I searched frantically in the dining room but found nothing. And I had to go.
So I went. While waiting at the hospital for my mother's hour long procedure to be completed, I called the vet. They'd see him on an emergency basis ($70 fee for that) and I set up an appointment. Then I went back to my chair and started thinking and talking with the Lord.
It just seemed like a set-up. I didn't know for sure Quigley had eaten the paper clip. It only seemed as if he had. And to have it all happen right before I left is so typical of events designed to test, whether from the Kingdom of darkness or from God Himself, making things look like they're one way, not giving me any way to be sure and forcing me to trust Him for some pre-ordained period of time. It also played in that I had to sit there in that waiting room alone for an hour, helpless to act, free to brood. I did not. I had brought a book and read it, determined not to spend any time imagining something that might turn out not to be true.
When I got home I prayed the Lord would show me where the paper clip V was, if not in Quigley's gullett. I looked thoroughly through the dining room now. Nothing. I cleaned the table, I moved the chairs and dog bed... nothing. I finally got the counter brush and began to sweep around the table legs and in the corners closest to where the purse had been. I swept up small wads of dog hair, two staples, some bits of gravel and dirt... no clip. So I moved to the other side, which seemed quite unlikely, swept at the crack between two cabinets, and all along the front. Then I pushed all the dirt into the dustpan and examined it. Still nothing. So I went back to the cabinets and there was the clip. As if it had fallen from the ceiling. Hallelujah! Thank you Lord!
I canceled the emergency vet appointment, and re-affirmed the concept that torturing yourself with what-ifs is always a bad idea. So is cutting up paper clips for any reason when you have a dog like Quigley. My purse clasp is now held together with duct tape, that wonderful all purpose adhesive/fastener! And the cut up paper clip V has been glued into my journal as a reminder not to be so stupid again. Though maybe I should fasten it with duct tape as well! In fact... I think I'll go do that right now.
----
And I'd just posted yesterday some of Sun Tzu's principles of strategic keys to victory.
So of course, there was a crisis. Yesterday I tried to fix my broken purse shoulder strap clasp with a cut off paper clip, a cockamamie idea whose efficacy and wisdom I even wondered about at the time. The spring had come out, you see, so the little latch had nothing to hold it in place and the strap came off the D-ring every time I set the purse down. So I cut off the end of a paper clip, squeezed the "U" end into a "V" and stuck it into the spring hole, holding the latch in place. That seemed to do the trick and I hung my purse on the back of the dining room table chair where I always do.
Later, Quigley had some sort of weird fit there, chasing his tail, biting it, tugging on it, going round and round as he caroomed off the walls, the dog crate and maybe the purse, though it was on the opposite side of the chair. Then this morning, as I was getting ready to go and all was progressing smoothly, Quigley suddenly romped from the dining room into the living room with something. He was tossing it about, falling down, rolling around, having a good old time as he often does with stolen things like socks, pens, a hair clip, a hair scrunchie and just as often, a piece of his chew. Since his reaction to me trying to see what he has is now to run away (grumble, steam) I decided to head him off by getting some sausage to offer him as a bribe. But as soon as he saw me coming he ran, chewing on the mystery object, and when I tried to get him, he scrambled under the coffee table, chewing even more. I had to haul him out by his hips. By the time I looked in his mouth, I found nothing but a few slimy bits of food. Whatever he'd gotten, it was gone.
"Fine!" I told him. "Eat whatever you find lying about and if it kills you, at least I won't have to deal with you any more!"
I put him outside, and about eight minutes before time to leave I picked up my purse, set it on the table, the strap fell off and I realized the cut-off paper clip "stay" was gone. I was immediately absolutely sure that was the mystery item he'd found earlier. And eaten. The three quarter-inch long metal V with two points on the end was now making its way through his digestive tract where it would surely penetrate delicate intestinal walls and kill him! I searched frantically in the dining room but found nothing. And I had to go.
So I went. While waiting at the hospital for my mother's hour long procedure to be completed, I called the vet. They'd see him on an emergency basis ($70 fee for that) and I set up an appointment. Then I went back to my chair and started thinking and talking with the Lord.
It just seemed like a set-up. I didn't know for sure Quigley had eaten the paper clip. It only seemed as if he had. And to have it all happen right before I left is so typical of events designed to test, whether from the Kingdom of darkness or from God Himself, making things look like they're one way, not giving me any way to be sure and forcing me to trust Him for some pre-ordained period of time. It also played in that I had to sit there in that waiting room alone for an hour, helpless to act, free to brood. I did not. I had brought a book and read it, determined not to spend any time imagining something that might turn out not to be true.
When I got home I prayed the Lord would show me where the paper clip V was, if not in Quigley's gullett. I looked thoroughly through the dining room now. Nothing. I cleaned the table, I moved the chairs and dog bed... nothing. I finally got the counter brush and began to sweep around the table legs and in the corners closest to where the purse had been. I swept up small wads of dog hair, two staples, some bits of gravel and dirt... no clip. So I moved to the other side, which seemed quite unlikely, swept at the crack between two cabinets, and all along the front. Then I pushed all the dirt into the dustpan and examined it. Still nothing. So I went back to the cabinets and there was the clip. As if it had fallen from the ceiling. Hallelujah! Thank you Lord!
I canceled the emergency vet appointment, and re-affirmed the concept that torturing yourself with what-ifs is always a bad idea. So is cutting up paper clips for any reason when you have a dog like Quigley. My purse clasp is now held together with duct tape, that wonderful all purpose adhesive/fastener! And the cut up paper clip V has been glued into my journal as a reminder not to be so stupid again. Though maybe I should fasten it with duct tape as well! In fact... I think I'll go do that right now.
----
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Recover and Recharge
Today I read an article online about creativity fatigue. This is from Alexia Petrakos's post, "How to Recover and Recharge from Creative Burnout" on Collective Creatives - a cooperative artisan blog:
"Creativity comes in cycles. One month you’re churning out piece after piece, everything you put your hand to comes out fabulous. It seems like it’ll go on forever. You are the Productivity Queen! Next month you crash and burn. You can’t even bear to look at your studio, let alone make something. This is when you need to recognize the signs your body is sending. After a time of great creative work, your brain, spirit and body need a break. You’ve spent your creative energies and your well is dry. It’s time to recharge."
I think that I could paraphrase that second to last sentence to "after a lengthy period of sustained and concentrated creative work, your brain, emotions and body need a break." Now it applies to me. Some of the things she suggests are write in a journal, take a vacation, read a book, take a walk and sleep -- as in take more naps. She left out sit and stare out the window.
I have never experienced myself like this, being so without motivation. There are tons of things I should be doing... I should be catching up on all the cleaning that has been put off while I took care of the dog, nursed my trigger finger and wrote Enclave. (Instead, I'm just doing the bare minimum and one or two extra tasks a week). I should be answering my emails, but for some reason, can't seem to make myself do it. No words. I should be writing a newsletter but, again... can't seem to make myself do it. I should be cleaning out my files, backing them up, and reworking my website. I should be tackling all the house projects that have been put on hold while I was writing Enclave. But I can't seem to make myself do any of it.
Of course, I have been taking my mother round to her tests and doctor's appointments -- we have two more scheduled for the upcoming week, which isn't exactly a vacation, but sort of. It does seem to consume much of my energy for the day. And the heat doesn't help, either, since that always sucks the life out of you.
And we've been walking Quigley -- he and I went together around the park Saturday night and it was exquisite. After day of 107 degree temps, a sort of thunderstorm developed over the mountains and then dumped rain which sent a semi-sustained wind through the city. The temps dropped to the mid eighties during our walk (plus I love the wind) and it was downright comfortable. Quigley was as good on the walk as Bear ever was. It was wonderful.
My son returned from San Diego this weekend and we celebrated Father's Day on Saturday morning with breakfast at our favorite breakfast place, Millie's Pancake Haus. Those were all wonderful, fun things, but they take up time. And energy.
But beyond those things and the day to day requirements, I've mostly continued to spend my time making cards, playing with my stamps, ordering new ones and just sitting. I enjoy doing mindless things, like cutting out stamped images with small scissors. It's easy, and you make measurable progress. Plus I love looking at the shapes and colors and putting them together into pleasing designs.
It dawned on me today that I'm still tired. And that I'm tired in a way I've not been before -- not just physically but mentally and emotionally and ... willfully (?) That is, my capacity to make myself do things seems to be very weak. A friend in college told me today that she feels this way after a semester ends and it doesn't go away in a week (which I was expecting). More like a month.
I doubt I have a month, but I think I'm going to give myself grace here. It's been a difficult, confusing, chaotic year. I can continue to go gently and while I might not be napping, the sitting and staring, or playing with the cards, is a form of resting. A weird one, for me, but resting, nevertheless.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Baby Mockingbird
Here's our baby mockingbird. I wanted to take more pictures, but he didn't like the flash, which I'd never intended to use anyway, but by the time I figured out how to turn it off, he ran away every time I got out the camera. He has a little cubby in the fence that he can run to if something big and scary comes by. I feel better, knowing that. He seems like way-too-obvious dinner in his current, flightless state. In fact, I saw one of the parents fighting off a female grackle that was showing a bit too much interest in him. So I went out and scared it off!Needless to say, Quigley had to stay mostly in the house again today. In fact, while I went with my mother to see the radiation oncologist, I left him in alone for the first time. He did great.
I washed windows, set up my new flatscreen, vacuumed and worked on a card with a cow on it. So again, I was mostly wordless.
Okay, my eyes are crossing. Time for bed!
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Still Wordless
This is quite weird. I ended up looking through a rubber stamp catalog with my mother while we waited for the CAT scan on Monday. (Which, contrary to what I'd read on the Internet, took only 20 minutes, not the predicted hour.) After we had exhausted the rather skimpy catalog and she went away to be scanned, I still didn't read any of the stuff I'd brought, but looked through a Sunset magazine. As in, looked at the pictures...
Today I caught up on some chores and spent the rest of the day working on cards, figuring out layouts, playing with new stamps and papers, experimenting with different techniques and creating an "inspiration journal" that is really more like a "bungling..." er... "exploration and problem-solving" journal.
Oh, and we've had a baby mockingbird that has just jumped out of the nest in our back yard today. Quigley started barking up a storm this morning and I went out to see what he had. The bird ran away as soon as Quig was distracted and I managed to intercede before he really pounced. Whenever he finds something new, his first reaction is to bark frantically and keep his distance. Then as he gets braver it crescendos into The Pounce. Which is very energetic and would probably crush a baby bird. If not, The Pounce is followed by The Bite-And-Shread.
Later, I thought the bird was gone, so we went out again. (He looks like he's right at the edge of actually flying, but so far all I've seen him do is run) Quigley found him right away. He was standing in the grapefruit tree treewell, staring at Quig who was not barking but sniffing very cautiously and with great interest. His nose got maybe 10 inches from the bird, when the baby opened its beak, flapped its wings and chirped, where upon Quigley backpedaled frantically and got out of there. When he recovered his courage and came back for more, I told him to leave it alone. (More like, "No, no, no! Leave the baby bird alone! No!"). He actually listened and obeyed, though, and we went back inside.
He's spent most of the day inside, which was fine since it was 109 outside, and he finds that too hot. He's been unusually lethargic ever since this heat wave got going. We took him on the three mile walk around the park last night and he was really dragging at the end. Even though the humidity's at about 10 percent , so the evaporative cooler's been working really well. Of course there wasn't a cooler on the walk, and it was still something like 99 when we were out there. But Quigley's still something of a puppy at 8 months and this is his first Arizona summer. Plus he gets to lie around in the house all day, so he's not really getting acccustomed to 100+ temps.
If the bird's still out there tomorrow, I think I'm going to try to take a picture.
Today I caught up on some chores and spent the rest of the day working on cards, figuring out layouts, playing with new stamps and papers, experimenting with different techniques and creating an "inspiration journal" that is really more like a "bungling..." er... "exploration and problem-solving" journal.
Oh, and we've had a baby mockingbird that has just jumped out of the nest in our back yard today. Quigley started barking up a storm this morning and I went out to see what he had. The bird ran away as soon as Quig was distracted and I managed to intercede before he really pounced. Whenever he finds something new, his first reaction is to bark frantically and keep his distance. Then as he gets braver it crescendos into The Pounce. Which is very energetic and would probably crush a baby bird. If not, The Pounce is followed by The Bite-And-Shread.
Later, I thought the bird was gone, so we went out again. (He looks like he's right at the edge of actually flying, but so far all I've seen him do is run) Quigley found him right away. He was standing in the grapefruit tree treewell, staring at Quig who was not barking but sniffing very cautiously and with great interest. His nose got maybe 10 inches from the bird, when the baby opened its beak, flapped its wings and chirped, where upon Quigley backpedaled frantically and got out of there. When he recovered his courage and came back for more, I told him to leave it alone. (More like, "No, no, no! Leave the baby bird alone! No!"). He actually listened and obeyed, though, and we went back inside.
He's spent most of the day inside, which was fine since it was 109 outside, and he finds that too hot. He's been unusually lethargic ever since this heat wave got going. We took him on the three mile walk around the park last night and he was really dragging at the end. Even though the humidity's at about 10 percent , so the evaporative cooler's been working really well. Of course there wasn't a cooler on the walk, and it was still something like 99 when we were out there. But Quigley's still something of a puppy at 8 months and this is his first Arizona summer. Plus he gets to lie around in the house all day, so he's not really getting acccustomed to 100+ temps.
If the bird's still out there tomorrow, I think I'm going to try to take a picture.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
May is Halfway Over
These are Desert Marigolds. They are common desert flowers. Most all the desert flowers are yellow because yellow is easiest for the bees and other insects to see so they can come and pollinate things. Yellow also goes splendidly with our blue skies and purple mountains!Alas, spring is very nearly over now. Today it was 96 degrees according to my car thermometer. It was still 90 when we took Quigley for his walk at 6:30pm (three miles round the park now).
This has been a crazy month. Mother's day, the death of a friend's mother, a doctor's appointment (that shoots a morning's worth of time to work), a graduation reception, and last night my son's official graduation from the Eller Business College with a Master of Science degree in Management Information Services. Last week he was flown to San Diego to interview for a job, which he decided on Friday to take and will be leaving in about two weeks. On... um... June 1, in fact, which is also my deadline for this book. That cannot be coincidence!
It also means that get togethers we'd have put off until June can't be put off, so we're tending to do whatever comes up now because we know it may be a long time before we can do it again.
We also have an anniversary, a birthday celebration, and I'm on temporary duty watering my mother's yard while she visits my sister in New Mexico. Plus Quigley, who has settled down a great deal, though he's still AWFUL with visitors and still needs some sort of serious outing every day. We alternate between the two mile walk, the three mile walk and an hour or two at the dog park, where he is extremely friendly to all the people and really quite nice, except for the jumping up. They are mostly dog people though, so they aren't too bothered and he's not too intense about it, either.
Anyone who comes to our house for a visit, however, will be assaulted and mauled in his exuberance. He seems to think people enjoy being punched in the stomach by his paws, and also that they like to have their arms held in his mouth. We are having trouble getting through to him that they do not...
As for Enclave... I finished chapter 26 last week, then went back to address 24, which meant I first had to go back to chapters 2 and 5 to put in all the changes I'd decided they needed. That done, I finished 24 and am now about halfway through ch 27, lost in the chaos of all the possible things that could happen, trying to figure out which things will happen, and how they all interelate in terms of cause and effect. It's very fluid. I'm determined not to get all upset when the chaos comes, just take it in stride and wait for it all to settle out.
I am close to the end now, but I still don't know how far, exactly. Things are combining and telescoping in ways I hadn't anticipated, so what had a week ago looked like chapters and chapters worth of material, doesn't look like quite so much now. And it IS only a first draft!
Have a great week
Karen
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Annual Bassett Hound Olympics
The Annual Bassett Hound Olympics was held in Ocean City New Jersey last month. I thought this video was good for a laugh, or at least a smile. Though I think it's unfair to compare their athletic abilities with other dogs. I mean, their legs are short. Their bodies are almost as long as Quigley's. Their ears are longer. It's not fair to expect them to be able to jump and run when they don't have any legs...
http://abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=4750189
I'm not surprised that I might enjoy watching such laid back hounds, sort of a break from the totally unlaid back hound I live with.
We took Quig to the dog park tonight. He was going nuts in the yard and car. Had earlier been fighting with his big Milk Bone can, digging random holes and eating the bermuda grass roots (Bear used to eat the grass; Quigley digs it up and eats the roots. How weird is that?) So he gets in the dog park and instead of running madly around like the little Weimaraner who's only a month younger, he trots from person to person (jumping on them happily), and spends a lot of time in contemplative sniffing. C'mon, Quigley! We brought you here to romp, not sniff. Admittedly at home he can't smell the smells he's smelling there, but still... He really likes all the people, and the people mostly like him.
Finished ch 25 today. More or less.
Karen
http://abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=4750189
I'm not surprised that I might enjoy watching such laid back hounds, sort of a break from the totally unlaid back hound I live with.
We took Quig to the dog park tonight. He was going nuts in the yard and car. Had earlier been fighting with his big Milk Bone can, digging random holes and eating the bermuda grass roots (Bear used to eat the grass; Quigley digs it up and eats the roots. How weird is that?) So he gets in the dog park and instead of running madly around like the little Weimaraner who's only a month younger, he trots from person to person (jumping on them happily), and spends a lot of time in contemplative sniffing. C'mon, Quigley! We brought you here to romp, not sniff. Admittedly at home he can't smell the smells he's smelling there, but still... He really likes all the people, and the people mostly like him.
Finished ch 25 today. More or less.
Karen
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Chaos to Order
Well, ever since Quigley was released from the cone, able to be put into the back yard, and life has somewhat found its way round to normal, I've actually been able to get some work done on my WIP. Imagine that!On Thursday I got a late start on account of working in my journal a bit regarding the message we'd heard Wednesday night (still on rest and quite fantastic). I returned to ch 22 and the second main scene of the chapter, for which I'd just laid in a few notes the day before. At that point I had no idea what the purpose of the scene was. The parts I did have were side issues. So I started working and thinking and sorting...
Suddenly an image came into my head that had nothing to do with the scene I was trying to develop in 22, but involved some pods and told me where the black boxes came from. Oooh. Creepy. Cool... I LIKE it.
Now, which of my characters would be the one viewing the image I'd just seen?
One thing led to another and eventually I'd gone back to ch 16 and inserted the scene in Storyline 2, refined an existing scene in the same sequence and in the process added 4 more pages.
Friday I addressed the beginning of ch 21, another part of Storyline 2 that I'd only made notes on but hadn't written. I was overwhelmed by all the ideas that were floating about, and the way that trying to follow any one of them would lead me on very long thought trips that always ended up with me totally lost and confused. So I sat down and decided to try to come up with a very simple sequence of cause and effect using the central idea and/or material I already have, even if it seemed trivial.
I worked all day and ended up with a chapter. Only 7 pages, but I'm trying to keep Storyline 2 shorter, and 7 pages is about right.
Saturday I went back to chapter 22 where, once again, I was trying to figure out what the point of the second scene was. I have a sequence though and tomorrow I plan to pursue it. Who knows where that will lead.
This all fits right in with the lessons on resting. I might have to just put in some quotes from them, because they were so good. In summary it involves staying out of the future, not thinking about the problem, but thinking instead about God, the one who is in control, who knows all the details, who is FOR me, who is the one who will accomplish my work for me, who has promised me rest if only I'll believe Him...
This message is finally beginning to get through to me. I'm not sweating the writing and the blankness and the chaos, just moving along. And if I'm not working at a frenetic desperate pace, but taking a break to, oh, eat a cookie, stare out the window, play with my dog... I think it's okay.
Quigley has been ... wonderful. I'm loving him! I love his red coat. I love the way he moves. He's so sweet and loving now. He will stand there and let you hug him for a long time and no biting. Just licks.
He's still puppy, of course, and right now into swiping things, but it's cuter and funnier than it is disturbing. And we just go to him and ask him, "What are you doing? That (shoe/paper/bottle) is not yours. Give." We might have to repeat "give" a number of times but eventually he complies.
Okay, sometimes he tries to escape by fleeing under the coffee table, but we get him and then he has to "give." I like the way he does respond. I like that we tell him to "give" and he does, rather than forcing us to pry his mouth open and take it. He now knows how to sit, down, stay, shake, come, crawl, "take it," "get in your bed" and walk on a leash. None of those are perfect, and distractions do distract, but things are definitely getting better.
He's also lost all his puppy canines, and his biting is much more under control.
Time for bed.
Karen
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
All Done
We went to the vet Tuesday for our final, prepaid check up and stitch removal. And that was exactly what happened. The second stitch was removed, the eye was pronounced healed, and though there is a bit of a scar, Dr. Merideth was confident that with time it would thin out and be no problem at all.Quigley had destroyed his cone Tuesday morning before we left and I had to put the other, smaller one on. I knew there was a reason God gave us two of them. But after the final check, no more cone. Hooray! Hallelujah! Wonderful.
Here's a picture of him without his cone, playing with a stick. I should try to do a video, because he is so funny with the stick. He throws it around and prances about the yard with it in his mouth. If I use it to make the wind chimes sound, then he's REALLY happy to get it.
Since I can now put him in the backyard again, that's what I did. I managed to get about 8 pages written of ch 22. And I got my deadline extended again, to June 1, though I'm hoping to be done before them. But then, I've said that before.
Grace,
Karen
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