TGIF!

I had a couple of different blog entries I considered posting today, but both of them were on pretty serious subjects, perhaps controversial subjects. But I have decided that I would rather end the week on a lighter note.

So, I found this video that seemed to embody exactly how I feel after a long week at work, a week that contained several doctor visits, a painful cortisone shot, and an equally painful IEP meeting.

Here's hoping your weekend is happy and that you can stay warm!



For more incredibly cute 'sleepy' videos, check out this link!

Dog Brain on Drugs

Adjusting to life with Rocky dog has been quite an adventure so far – both for the family and for Rocky. The dog which came home from the SPCA with us was calm and well-behaved. Once he figured out that we had to go to school and work 5 days a week, he was a little miffed. And he expressed his displeasure by destroying his crate – actually 3 crates – and wreaking havoc around the house.

The vet calls it extreme separation anxiety. And on Friday, Rocky was prescribed seizure medicine – Phenabarbitol – to help ‘calm’ him. The vet called in the prescription to our local pharmacy, and the pharmacist had a great laugh as she entered Rocky’s information into our family record of medicines. We are probably one of their best customers, if not the best given all the prescriptions my kids and I take. And now we have one more family member on their roles. If only my insurance prescription coverage extended to Rocky….

Rocky’s meds seem to be helping a bit. We took a couple of short trips over the weekend to see how he would handle the situation. He didn’t destroy another crate, although he did bark a lot when we left. But I was encouraged. Yesterday morning and this morning, I could almost read it in his eyes that he knew we were going for a longer time. Yesterday he barked a while, but then settled down, and he didn’t get out of his crate. This morning he barked a little longer, and I won’t know until this afternoon how he does with the whole day.

He’s such a good dog other than the separation anxiety and his strange obsession with Tickle Me Elmo, and I really hope we can work through this. If anyone has other ideas, I would love to hear them!

Welcome Home, Rocky!

Ring, Ring….Ring, Ring.

Amy: Hello?

Ashley’s Mom: Hi, Amy, it’s me. How are you doing?

Amy: Fine, what’s up?

Ashley’s Mom: I heard about this great little boy today that really needs a home and…

Amy: Wait, you CANNOT adopt another child!

Ashley’s Mom: But he’s so cute, and Amy, he lives in a hospital. No child should grow up in a hospital. He needed to be there early on, and he does have a trach, but that is all. He’s young, he’s spirited, and he’s really smart. He just needs a family to call his own.

Amy: You CAN’T. You already have 4 kids, three with significant disabilities, and your health isn’t the greatest. Do I need to remind you that you have Lupus and Rheumatoid Arthritis? Do I need to remind you how tired you are most days? Do I need to remind you that you are a single mom and that you have to work a full time job? Come on, let’s be realistic here.

Ashley’s Mom: I know in my brain that you are right, but my heart wants to ignore my brain. It probably doesn’t even matter because any social worker in their right mind would probably have all the same reservations that you do. But he’s just such a great kid with so much potential.

Amy: I know, and I wish it could work out, but you have to think of your current situation also. You know I’m right…

Ashley’s Mom: I know, I know. OK, let’s change the subject. The kids and I visited the SPCA today. They had some great dogs there, and the kids were so excited and sad at the same time. Since Lizzie Dog had to move to her retirement home, the kids have wanted another dog so badly…

Amy: Wait! You adopted a dog, didn’t you?



Welcome Home, Rocky!!


Rocky is a 3 year old American Foxhound. The SPCA feels he was a hunting dog that wasn't hunting so the owner just released him. He very calm and loving, and great around the kids. He has already learned a couple of sign language signs, and he is a great walking partner for me at night. We're planning to let him become a therapy dog!

Meooooowwwwww

Now I understand why the good folks at the SPCA grilled me before allowing me to adopt my cat, Kitty Carlysle. They wanted to make sure that I understood that having a pet was not going to be a cheap journey. Sure, it’s easy not to think about costs when you’re holding a small, purring kitten, but the SPCA staff knows that the future could hold many expenses. Today I proved their point.

Kitty Carlysle, now three years old, had seemed uncomfortable for the last couple of days. She wasn’t her usual haughty, mischievous, camel-cricket-catching self. She also would cry occasionally when using her litter box. The final clue that something wasn’t right was when my perfect little lady of a cat had an accident outside her litter box, and that accident was tinged with blood.

I placed an emergency call to Dr. Lucy, our family veterinarian, and was told I should bring Miss Kitty in right away. I was told to leave her for a few hours so the vet staff could obtain a urine sample (don’t even want to know how that was accomplished!), and could run a few tests. All signs were pointing to a urinary tract infection, but Dr. Lucy wanted proof from her tests.

Two hours passed before I received the call verifying that Kitty had a urinary tract infection. She would need antibiotics and special food – food that would hopefully keep future such infections at bay. Apparently if a cat had one such infection, similar infections will frequently follow. The new food, available only by prescription, would keep urine PH levels appropriate and thus help prevent future days like today.

I was told to come back and get Miss Kitty, and the whole way there I wondered how expensive this would all be. It’s been my experience with past vet visits, that leaving with a bill less than $100 almost never happens. A vet visit reminds me a a shopping trip to Costco, our big box, warehouse style store when things are bought in large quantity supposedly at a lower cost. I’ve always said the store shouldn’t be called Costco, but rather the $100 dollar store because it’s impossible to go in and not spend at least that much.

True to form, the vet bill was $161! Yikes!! That was more than it cost to take my youngest daughter to the pediatrician for two ear infections. Besides the vet time, there was a charge for two diagnostic tests, a charge for the antibiotic (which looks suspiciously like amoxicillin), and a pretty hefty charge for both dry and wet prescription cat food.

So Kitty is back home and resting well. She enjoyed her expensive new food (as well she should!), and has had her first dose of antibiotics. Have you ever had to get a syringe-full of liquid medicine in an unhappy, squirming animal that has razor blades coming out of its feet? The next medical visit will be fine, I fear