Boob Is In The Building

Liz's building, right now. He arrived this morning.

O Holy Night

the stars are brightly shining; it is the night of the dear Saviour's birth

Fall on your knees

Hear the angel voices

Night divine;

The night when Christ was born

I Miss That Dog

thatisall

Christmas Card

We're happy! and we hope you are, too.

Decorating the tree:

and the hearth:

Mercy's happy:

... the sky's happy:

Felice Navidad! (ok, try to get that song out of your head for the rest of the day)
Merry Christmas!
From: those guys

Ho Ho Ho

Almost done with Christmas shopping, except for two people whose thought processes are obscure to me for some reason. So their gifts will end up being odd, I think. Maybe pre-packaged 200 pc cosmetics! No, kidding.

If only I knew what they wanted. If they could be like Mercy, whose thought processes are pretty easy to read, and go something like this:

Food CHEW! food, food, steal sock CHEW! bone CHEW! human! leap, knock over, CHEW! steal rug CHEW! steal shoe CHEW! food food! cat! chase under tree, knock tree about, run off with stuff, CHEW! food! treat! CHEW! bedtime OH NOES! run/hide

But I don't know what to get her for Christmas, either.

Thank Them

unobtrusively, because they serve:

watch this

Poor Us

Poor fish...


Spring is in 95 days.

ahem. Global warming? When can I expect some of that, you think?

It's Done

thatisall

Update

We planned the trip to the vet for today, but we just couldn't do it. Can't we just let Einstein decide it all? But he's not eating at all now and is pretty much out of it. I liquefied pills and dribbled it in his mouth and I think he got some and there is no outward evidence of pain so should we wait? or go, or not, or should we wait. and I don't think I can do this but I have to do it and so I will. take my dog to his death if I have to and if it's best and if I have to. Just not today. not today at all.

Not A Good Week

next week's not looking good either.

Einstein quit eating on Wednesday night; by Thursday I was laying on the floor with a flashlight trying to shove pills (at least) down his gullet. No go; but I did get a pain pill in there which I was thinking at the time was the ONLY important one. Einstein, of course thinks I'm being mean to him, like he always did with the ear wash. Bob and I both thought he would be dead by this morning - but! he woke up and ate his food. Yes he did.

Had him at the vet by 10:00 and no good news there. although he perked up and ate treats, etc. (???) the news is not good because the mass has grown behind his eye and probably into his brain so unless we want to remove his eyes and half his brain the options are limited: keep him pain free, somehow, as long as we can and then - I guess, you know what we have to do.

So, in the vet's office while we're getting this news my husband, who always swore he hated this dog, dissolves into tears. They bring us a print out with info on euthanasia but I'm speechless now and can only say, not today! maybe later, not today, and we came home loaded up with pain and comfort meds and info on how to get him in there in a hurry, if we must, TO DO THAT THING.

It seems I can't talk about this, at all, without becoming hysterical so please don't call and ask me about it.

It's different than when Bob was sick; I just assumed and expected the docs to rustle up something else from their bag of tricks - which would Work This Time. And so it did. There is no bag of tricks for Einstein nada nothing.

He still wouldn't get out of the car until I came and got him. I still have a yellow dog by my side everywhere I go; Mercy, who I called the child of Satan today because she's so bad. She isn't as bad as Einstein was, though whoda thunk it. I know I said she was a back up dog, but I didn't MEAN it, god's sake I thought we had 4 or 5 more years!

Last night when he was so sick it suddenly dawned on me that Mercy had dragged all of her toys, and all of her bones, over by him. and then she went and laid on the couch. There was a whole pile of stuff in front of Einstein. who didn't care, but it's the thought that counts I think.

You know, he was a born puppy when we got him. By that I mean, we didn't order him up. What is killing him now was always going to happen it was always meant to be no matter who had him and somehow I take comfort in that. I hope he's been happy here with us.

we had a good time, didn't we, Buddy?