Just Pee in the Cup Already!

Sweet EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer has had some health issues of late.  The most annoying one (for all of us) is a stomach problem — she has issues with digesting her food and she burps louder and longer than a longshoreman.  Poor Em!

She willingly went to the vet’s because she likes it there.  I don’t like it at my doctor’s office, but I’m not a dog.  Anyway, the vet is aware of the issue; Em’s been on meds prior to this visit.  But, the problem returns.  He suggests obtaining a blood sample, giving her her annual shots (which were due), refilling her heartworm and flea prevention meds, and oh, here’s a plastic tray…please get a sample of her urine.

Excuse me?

This morning bright (well, actually it was dark) and early, the whole family goes out to the backyard to obtain a pee sample from EmmaLou.  I was on leash and flashlight duty; Devoted Spouse had the little (and I do mean little) plastic tray at the ready.  Em sniffs around, squats down, I yell at Devoted Spouse, “NOW!”, he slides the tray under her and EmmaLou jumps straight up in the air taking her precious pee with her.

Take Two:  “C’mon sweetie puppy girl…pee in the cup.”  Yes, dogs can get a hateful look on their faces.  Finally she squatted again and we repeated the above exercise.  It didn’t work the second time, either.

Devoted Spouse took EmmaLou out on her morning walk, where she peed like someone who’s had their bladder stopped up for a month.  Peed all up and down the street.  Did we get a sample?  No…forgot the tray.

While running errands, I stopped in the vet’s office.  They laughed and laughed but finally agreed I could bring her up late in the day and THEY would try the little plastic tray trick.

EmmaLou and I, meanwhile, have decided we should never speak of this barbaric intrusion into her personal life again.  Sigh…


Out of the Mouths of…Husbands

Reacting to my aching back and the fact I announced I was about to carry some loads of laundry to the basement, the conversation went like this:
Me:  I’m gonna take down some laundry in a little while.

Devoted Spouse:  No, you’re not.

Me:  Oh, yeah, I am.

Devoted Spouse:  No! You can’t carry down; you can’t carry up…but…you can karaoke.

Seriously, this is my life…sigh…

How to Have Fun While Your Dog is Wearing the Cone of Shame or Teasing EmmaLou 101

Yes, sweet little EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer, is wearing The Cone of Shame once again due to a slight ‘ouchie’ on her muzzle that needs to heal.  I’ve made up some things to do to pass the time while she is in this contraption.  These are games she and I can play (well, sort of) that will keep her occupied and me in hysterics (I know…this is going to come back to haunt me some day).

For example, EmmaLou loves to play with her toys.  Fetch is especially fun while she’s wearing the Cone. It works like this… I pick up one of her toys.  EmmaLou races over to me.  I throw the toy behind her.  She spins around and smacks whatever piece of furniture is there with her Cone.  I fall on floor in hysterics.  She manages to get to the toy, bends down, puts the Cone over it like a giant Hoover and scarfs it up.  I laugh harder.  Then we repeat.

Another fun game takes place at the kitchen table.  EmmaLou loves to join Devoted Spouse and me for a meal.  We eat and she sits there and looks particularly pathetic in hopes we will toss a morsel her way.  Wearing the Cone makes meal time so much more fun.  EmmaLou will place herself between my chair and Devoted Spouse’s (note this is a round table).  While she’s looking toward Devoted Spouse, I’ll quietly reach around her and tap on her Cone.  She flips her head around and looks for what touched her Cone.  I shoot milk out of my nose and fall into fits of manic laughter.  Again, repeat as necessary.

Here’s a great one that anyone can play.  While EmmaLou is on the couch, reach inside the cone and tickle her ear.  Then sit back and prepare to be highly amused as she tries in vain to scratch the ear and ends up only scratching the Cone.   A fun time for all!

I have more, but you get the idea.  EmmaLou chewed one of my books the other day.  Can’t imagine why…sigh…

New Olympic Sport Being Considered

Y’all ‘member EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer?  The 75 lb bane of my existence?  At 7 1/2 years old, she’s rapidly approaching doggie dotage.  Unfortunately, she has acquired a new habit; one that I’m finding difficult to live with, and that’s putting it mildly.

EmmaLou had decided our house is now her bathroom.  Oh, she still goes outside and sniffs every blade of grass and she may occasionally make a deposit somewhere in the yard.  More often than not, I am awakened to the wafting aroma of … well… you know what comes out of a dog.  Let’s just say, I would rather be awakened by practice time from the marching band of the worst high school in Lower Slobovia than this.

The other day I had a new experience.  While working in my home office I was alerted to the sight of EmmaLou in the hallway.  She roamed around in circles and that emergency klaxon in the far recesses of my brain started going off.  This dog was about to make a deposit on my light-colored hallway carpet and I was a goodly distance away from her.  As she began to squat and get that glazed look in her eyes, I flew out of my ergonomic chair and sprinted for the hall bathroom all the while screaming at the top of my lungs, “Emma Nooooooooooooooooooo!”  D’ya think that stopped her from her mission?

Amazingly enough, I gathered gobs of tp and managed to “catch the first baby”, quickly turn around and sprint to the toilet and deposit it, grab another wad of tp and repeat the process.  Thinking I had finished handling (sorry) this disaster, I slowed my progress.  And that’s when it happened.  Everything she had been saving arrived and descended in slow motion onto my carpet.  I stood there in horror wondering if my dog had, in fact, been the result of a breeding experiment gone horribly wrong – a Golden Retriever and a hippopotamus perhaps.  I didn’t have enough tp left in the bathroom for this.

About that time, Devoted Spouse was running up the stairs with a large roll of paper towels and the ever-present gallon-sized bottle of Resolve.  As he hit the second to last stairstep I had acquired a large handful of Kleenex and managed to scoop what was left, once more wasting gallons and gallons of precious water flushing.

I lost count of how many times I hit that toilet handle and ran back to the hallway.  I imagine that day all the meters on the utility company Plasma Screens of Flushing were in the red zone.  EmmaLou was so proud of herself.  If I could expel what she did in those copious amounts; well let’s just put it this way: I’d probably now be a size 2….sigh…

Things That Make You Go Hmmmmm

Remember Arsenio Hall and his talk show.  He’d often talk about ‘things that make you go hmmmmm’.  Well, that’s what I found the other day in my local paper.  This is what I live to find — the small silly things we all do without thinking.  I would like to think this newspaper has someone who is in charge of the layout of the pages so they make sense.  The day this was printed, they must have been taking a nap.  But the good news is it certainly made me laugh.

I hope the picture comes out — the gist of it is on one side of the page is a story all about how to use your self-control while shopping and it lists lots of great ideas so we can all be more aware of where we’re putting our money these days.  The funny?  On the other side is a column entitled Deals of the Week and while some of them are, in fact, good deals, they’re certainly not the type of deals one would associate with exercising self-control.  Self-control has to do with clipping coupons and looking for good sales on clothes out of season.  These Deals of the Week are advertisements for a ‘deal site’ that leads you to “specials” only good for 24 hours (no buying pressure there!).  What strikes me as funny is the deals include casino getaways and money off a yoga class.  Okay maybe yoga can be justified as being healthy, but a casino deal — next to how to be a frugal shopper?

It just made me go Hmmmmmm….sigh.

Don’t Try This at Home…


I’ve had a few strange days lately; days when I’m not running all all cylinders and I’m certainly not making much sense.  This morning was one of those days.

All I wanted to do was make a pot of coffee – seems pretty simple.  I got the French Press out; I got the super airtight plastic bag filled with coffee beans out, and took the coffee grinder out of the cabinet and put it on the counter.  All ready to make the coffee.  I noticed that there were only a few beans in the bag – but I knew I had just opened a new shipment of my favorite Peet’s coffee and put the contents in an airtight  plastic bag stored in a basket on the counter.  So I emptied what remained of the first bag into the coffee grinder and went after the second bag of beans up in the basket.  As I opened the basket and turned it upside down to dump in the beans it suddenly hit me with a blinding flash.

Those weren’t coffee beans in that bag, they were chocolate covered graham crackers – specifically the diet kind.  And they were making their way in slow motion down the plastic toward my brand new Krups coffee grinder.  Ack.  What was going on in my brain and could I stop it in time before I ground up chocolate graham crackers instead of coffee beans?  The answer is yes, in the nick of time I snapped out of it and realized I had grabbed the wrong plastic bag – but in my defense it was a plastic bag and there were small items brown in nature inside and my brain equated that with coffee beans.

beans or cookies, what to do, what to do?

beans or cookies, what to do, what to do?

How does one retire one’s brain because I honestly think that’s what I need to do now; retire my brain.  Or at least send it on a little vacation of its very own.  Because somewhere along the way in this story I looked down and realized I had my flip flops on the wrong feet — oh those were my feet alright, but the left shoe was on the right foot. Now you might think with flip flops that’s not a big deal, but it was uncomfortable and it simply didn’t register why in my brain my feet hurt.  Gah…

I’m thinking this can be residue stress as a result of the massive refrigerator mess of 2009 – coupled with the fact I have studied my heart out and been doing very well, only to receive an 84 on a quiz Friday (which in the Seminary’s strange grading mind equals a “C” and in my mind should equal a “B”)  – yes, that has to contribute to my fuzzy headedness this morning.  Otherwise, I’m just going batty in my old age, and I’d rather not accept that just yet.

As for battiness, it isn’t just me – my laptop seems to have developed dementia all on its own – this morning as I opened my laptop the key which is used for double and single quotations (“,’) popped off and will not go back on — so as I use these grammatical marks I’m forced to hit this strange little button where the key once was – now I’ve been down this road before with this laptop – the “e” button popped off but I snapped it right back on.  Unfortunately, my quotation mark key isn’t in the mood to snap and if I glue it, well then it won’t work at all – I may be slightly challenged this morning but I’m not totally whacked out.  This is definitely going to slow down my typing – or I shall be forced to write without the use of quotations or contractions.

Dell makes crap keyboards, yes that's key that fell off

Dell makes crap keyboards; yes there is the key that fell off

At least if I get my homework reading done this morning, I can reward myself with watching Ohio State beat the pants off the Navy today.  Or I can sit here and figure out how to toss this laptop and its quotation key out my front door without further damaging my back or the door – should probably open it first, eh?

For the safety of all of you I’m staying inside today.  Carry on.


Church Uniforms…Sounds Like a Project Runway Episode to Me

Oh puhleeze spare me the psychobabble

Oh puhleeze spare me the psychobabble

Read an article today that left my jaw hanging open.  Seems Mr. and Mrs. Tom Cruise are getting into the fashion business.  And they’re not designing cute outfits for kids, or stuff for the savvy celebrity; no, they are designing uniforms for the Church of Scientology.  Again – uniforms for the Church of Scientology.

Okay – first of all Scientology isn’t a religion; it’s a cult started by a science fiction writer who then promptly disappeared from sight.  Oh wait – let me quote to you from their website the definition of the Church of Scientology:

“Scientology is a religion in its highest meaning as it helps bring man to total freedom and truth.  The essential tenets of Scientology are:  You are an immortal spiritual being.  Your capabilities are unlimited, even if not presently realized.  Furthermore, man is basically good.  He is seeking to survive.  And his survival depends upon himself and his fellows and his attainment of brotherhood with the universe.” That comes right from their website.  So then I looked up the word “religion” on dictionary.com and I got this:

“a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.” The key words here are “when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies”; ergo, Scientology is not a religion.  I rest my case.  No hate mail – my blog, totally my own personal opinion here.

Anyway, enough preaching – back to the fashion nonsense — I can understand clerical clothing — look at Catholicism and priestly robes –priestly garments go all the way back to the Old Testament – so I don’t have a problem with that.  But what Tom and the Mrs. are designing are, and I quote:

“The scarlet-lined black capes with skirt and trouser suits are almost identical to the sort of clothes favored by Tom and Katie, if a little more vampire-themed.”

Now that’s just plain creepy.  Why would you need to wear a cape anyway – do they think they’re superheros?  I’m just so amazed at what people are doing these days and calling it religion or a “church”, I can’t find the words to describe it.  I dunno, I’m thinkin’ these people are just one step away from the Jim Jones Kool-Aid…go HERE for the original article – I couldn’t possibly have made this stuff up if I tried.