A dogs' life

First off, a very happy Gotcha Day to our Jazzy girl! We adopted her six years ago today. Usually we like to take our dogs someplace special on their big days but today Jasmine settled for some special alone time with us and a bone upstairs. She didn't seem to mind. Look at how great this girl is:







Our attention was less on Jasmine and more on Sam today. He has been limping all week and last night it got so bad that he was falling down, walking on three legs, and wouldn't climb the stairs at bedtime. We spent the week holding him and carrying him and dreading the worst possible scenario, that we might have to put him to sleep if the injury was severe enough. We thought broken hip, cancer, lyme disease... We were sure it was serious as we watched our dog fall to the floor because he couldn't use his back leg. We talked about what we would do if it meant treatment would make him suffer, that we would opt to put him down depending on his quality of life. We've been a wreck about it for days.



We made an emergency vet appointment for tonight and took Sam in with fingers crossed that it would be something simple like a sore toenail or paw.

The vet diagnosed him with a partial torn ligament, which although serious is nothing life threatening and nothing that he will need surgery to fix. He is now on medicine and strict rest. But he will be just fine. The vet loved Sam and said at 82.5lbs he's at a healthy weight and should heal up just fine. We are so thankful.

Six long years

I knew Sam was ours the first time I saw his peanut head on his gigantic body on the rescue website. Sean wasn't even home. He was in Florida, traveling for work, when I called him and told him I found OUR dog. THEE one. We were still living in our condo--sans furniture--and waiting for our house closing, which was pushed back so many times that we were fearful that we might end up homeless for a few days once our lease was up. But this was OUR dog. Nothing else mattered. He had to be ours. I sent Sean a cell phone picture and he agreed that Sam was the dog for us.



I believe Sean was still in Florida, or maybe he was at work, when I went to the kennel to visit Sam. He had been transported up north from our favorite rescue agency but was in boarding as he didn't have a foster to take him. I took a video of my first visit with Sam to show to Sean.



I still to this day get sad when I hear the woman who works at the kennel say, "Santa hasn't come yet!" You can bet we spoiled the shit out of that dog on his first Christmas with us.

Happy Gotcha Day, boy.

Get the skunk out of your dog

Two of our three dogs were sprayed by a skunk yet again this morning. For the third time. The baby woke up at 5:30, Sean let the dogs out at 6, and by 6:15 the smell of skunk had invaded the house. Sean immediately came upstairs to get me and we changed into clothes that we could throw away and brewed up our favorite skunk stink removal remedy as Avery and Jasmine waited outside.



The key to this is to get it on your dogs as fast as possible because the longer the skunk stays in their coats the harder it is to remove.

1 quart hydrogen peroxide
1/4 cup of baking soda
2 teaspoons of dish soap



We usually use an old plastic watering can that we save for such an occasion because it is easier to pour the solution onto the dogs. Our guys were sprayed so badly at close range this morning that we used the garden hose on them to get it right off since Avery was puking his brains out and Jasmine had obviously been sprayed in the mouth, too. It wasn't too cool, probably about 50°, but I felt bad having to spray them with cold water after such an ordeal.

We washed them again in the shower and they still smell--as they will for weeks, I'm sure--but at least now the smell is very minimal. The first time Jasmine was sprayed we bathed her with pasta sauce and she smelled like skunk and garlic for the longest time. This remedy is much less invasive. Just make sure you don't get it in your dog's eyes and leave it on for five minutes for best results.

Here's hoping you never have to use the skunk remedy!

Kate takes her first spin in a Lowes wagon

Lowes is Dylan's favorite place to shop because of these race car carriages. Katie took her first ride in one today and the two of them loved it.






My favorite part was when I was driving us out the door and Katie had her hand on Dylan's back. They looked like a tiny elderly couple snuggling up in a beat up antique car.

And today I found the rare opportunity to get all five of my babes in one photo with almost all of them looking at the camera!



For the first time in about a week and a half I am starting to feel better. I haven't been able to find the strength to walk much but today my legs have felt absolutely fine. So so glad.

So I vacuum my dog...

Life with three dogs and two kids is never easy and always fun. Take cleaning, for instance. It's impossible for me to get anything done without someone tagging along or needing me for something. So basically I attempt to clean pretty much all day everyday and if I get anything at all accomplished I am proud of myself.

Like vacuuming. Our dog Sam is terrified of our large vacuum--something to do with the pushing motion of the vacuum, he is the same way with the lawnmower--and so in between full floor vacuuming I use this tiny little Dirt Devil vacuum. Sometimes three times a day because Jasmine sheds so incredibly much. Sam doesn't mind the Dirt Devil at all and Jasmine loves it. She stands next to me until I turn the vacuum on her. Disclaimer: it does not hurt her at all, I tested it on myself before I ever tried it on Jazzy. Jasmine loves to be groomed and will sit there for hours as I brush her or give her a haircut and the vacuum is no exception.

I set the camera up on a tripod a few minutes ago to capture what it's like to vacuum in this house. Dylan hit his head twice in the span of five minutes and of course I had to vacuum Jasmine as well as the floor.

Poor kid. He had just hit his head prior to this blow which is why I was holding him in the very beginning of this clip.



Here's another video of Jasmine getting vacuumed. She also runs into the bathroom when I run the blow dryer because she enjoys that, too.



I swear, I can't make this stuff up.

Good fences make good (dog) neighbors, except when your neighbor's dogs are assholes

When our neighbors moved in they had one dog, a tiny lassie girl, who was barky but not too much of a bother.

And then they adopted four more dogs. Let me repeat that FOUR MORE DOGS. A total of FIVE little yippy barky dogs.

Yay for dog adoption, I mean really, I'm totally all for it, all three of our dogs are rescues. However, our town has a three dogs only rule for a reason. Five dogs is ridiculous.

And if they were five nice dogs I'd be 100% fine with it. We love our dogs, I'm sure they love theirs, I can handle barking. But these dogs are huge assholes. They are vicious. They come out in attack mode, racing at the fence and growl-barking at our dogs. Our dogs don't disappoint them either. They give it everything they've got to get at these little yippers. Jasmine rips giant holes in the fence with her face and comes in covered in blood with wood splinters in her mouth. She doesn't care if it hurts, she wants at those bitches. Get it? Bitches! Because they are female dogs?!

We haven't been able to let our guys outside very much because the neighbor dogs instantly bark at our pups when they are outside and our neighbors oddly let their dogs out without checking to see if perhaps the reason their dogs are barking is because our dogs are in the backyard. I am so tired of the dog fights.  

Our other neighbors on the right side of us have always had large dogs and our dogs love to see each other through the fence. They play together, they couldn't be bothered if our neighbor's dog Jethro is out. Jethro is not mean like the nippers.  My dogs get hurt because of them. Our yard is no longer peaceful. They bark around the clock. So today we took drastic action and extended the kids' play area the entire length of our yard so that the dogs have an extra barrier between us and the neighbors. 

I'm sad to do it because it makes our yard smaller for our guys to run around--Avery especially loves to play ball in our yard and run circles--but it has to be done before someone's dog is seriously injured...or eaten. We take our guys running a lot anyway so they still get plenty of exercise.

It was a long day of working in the yard to prepare for the new fence. I spent an entire hour trying to get our weed whacker ready to cut the grass in the play area with new gas and new line and could not get this thing to start. Pops came over and had it running for me within a few seconds. Well then. He and Dylan mowed the lawn while I weed whacked.



And later Gramma came over to hold Kate for me while Dylan and I trimmed back bittersweet and removed spruce trees.



Here's before we rerouted the fence:



Kate was pretty content relaxing in the yard today.






Here Dylan is making her smile as he swings on the swings:



When Sean came home from work we got to work. We finished the fence in about two hours. I still need to paint the fence and do tons of yardwork.







We have yet to test out the new barrier with the neighbor's dogs outside. I'm pretty sure our life is about to get a lot more peaceful. I'll be glad to never see Jasmine with a bloody face again.

I promise we'll come home

We're going on a mini vacation this weekend, our first trip away since we adopted our special needs dogs back in 2007. Six years without a vacation. It is much needed.





But as excited as I am to go away, I'm sad to be leaving our puppies behind. They will be more than well taken care of with the best house sitter we know, but our guys have separation anxiety and Sam especially doesn't take being without us very well, even for a few hours. This morning I took the kids out shopping for some last minute extras we needed for our trip and Sammy had the saddest face when we left. My heart broke. Oh babies, I really don't want to leave you, but we need to go away now and then, too. I'm sure I will have more separation anxiety than they will.

Is anyone else this crazy about the canine members of the family?

Happy 5th Gotcha Day, Avery!

We adopted our youngest pup Avery on July 12, 2008. He's a great boy, always tolerating the other two dogs humping him, and dare I say he is our best-behaved dog.






I'm pretty sure we are crazy for adopting three large rescue dogs, our house is never quiet and never clean, but Avery completes our pack and life wouldn't be the same without him.

We love you, buddy!



And if you're really bored, click HERE for an 8-minute Avery video from his fist year with us.

Does the Thundershirt work?

This is our girl Jasmine:



We adopted all three of our dogs from American Lab Rescue, a fantastic organization which finds southern dogs in need of homes and ships them all over the country to be adopted. Jasmine was rescued from a high kill shelter in Louisiana. We fell in love with her from her adoption photo because she had this giant tongue sticking out and looked as if she was smiling. We soon discovered that the reason she looked like she was smiling in her picture was because she was most likely panicking when the photo was being taken.

Jasmine is the sweetest and most anxious dog I have ever met. She is afraid of fire alarms and being left home alone. She is afraid of car rides and loud noises and snow plows. She panics when Sean and Dylan go upstairs to dance around in our bedroom because the sounds of their footsteps sound like thunder.

She is petrified of storms. Petrified.



Whenever it rains Jasmine immediately jumps into my lap and trembles uncontrollably until the storm clears. We tried several methods to try to calm her: anxiety medication prescribed by the vet, keeping her in a covered crate when it rains, DAP diffusers which give a calming dog pheromone scent, sensitivity training. Nothing worked until I bought her a Thundershirt.



Friends ask me all of the time, "Does the Thundershirt really work?". I've heard that it works on certain dogs but not on others but for our Jazzy girl it is a life changer. She still gets nervous and shakes during storms even when wearing her Thundershirt, but her anxiety level transforms from severe terror down to a gentle worry. When she's wearing her Thundershirt she becomes calm enough after a while that she climbs off of my lap and falls asleep on the floor. There were nights that I spent the entire night hugging her close before we bought her a Thundershirt and she trembled for eight straight hours.



We're having a rainy Friday and Jasmine is adorned in her shirt. So far there has been no thunder so she isn't too afraid, but she still enjoys wearing her shirt. She seems to feel safe.



I cannot recommend the Thundershirt enough. This simple $40 velcro garment has improved the quality of life for our dog and has given us a more peaceful household. If your dog suffers from anxiety this shirt may or may not work, but Jasmine and I give high praise for this product. Buy it.



I was not paid for this blog entry and it is no way endorsed by Thundershirt or any of its affiliates. I love this product and thought you should know about it. You can purchase a shirt for your dog at Thundershirt.com or Amazon.com.  Your dog will thank you. 

Good fences make good neighbors

The house next door to us was vacant when we moved here in 2007 and stayed that way for nearly three years until finally purchased by a quiet single mom with older kids and a small lassie dog. We had no issues with them--other than the small detail that they leave their trash receptacle on the street for days after garbage day--until recently.

Our neighbors have acquired three (THREE!) more tiny dogs and they are total yips. These little ankle biters act as if they rule the neighborhood and come running out of their house in attack mode, barking at our fence and provoking our dogs for a reaction. And our dogs do not let them down one bit. Jasmine especially. She literally tries to attack them through the fence until her face is covered with blood (hers) and there are holes in the fence.

It's a big problem. We've gone from having a lovely fenced in yard where our guys spend most of their summer days while we play outside to not being able to let them outside for more than a few minutes or else a fence fight might break out. Technically, this town only allows three dogs and our neighbors are breaking the rules by owning four, so although I'm not going to report them I secretly hope that the town finds out and forces them to get rid of the biggest pain in the ass ankles so that we may have our peaceful yard back.



This morning I ran out to grab our dogs as they bit at the fence at the yippy neighbor dogs. Jasmine had nearly eaten one of the fence panels off and those little brats were in danger of getting eaten.

So Sean went out back in the rain and built thee best reinforcement line along the bottom of the fence.

Suddenly, all is quiet in the yard because these seven dogs can't get access to each other any longer. I'm sure it won't last, there will be holes popping up in other spots along the fence in no time, but for now it is glorious.

This feels like I've won the peace and quiet lottery. My husband is my hero.

SAH(dog)M

Everyone says that I am lucky to be able to stay at home with my children, and I am lucky--don't get me wrong--but some days life is downright hard and I get jealous of the moms who drop their babes off at daycare with a snack bag and an "I'll see you later, have a great day!" and spend the day at a job they hate but where they get to socialize with other people while not being coated in spit up and boogers. 

For me I think the stress is less about the kids and more about being at home ten hours a day. I'm still recovering from my cancer treatments and even though I'd like to pretend that I'm healed I get exhausted just putting my hair up into a ponytail. So getting everybody dressed and ready to do fun things outside of the house is beyond tiring and we don't do it as often as I'd like. 

The hardest part about staying home for me is our three dogs.  I love them, I really love them, but they are total assholes.  They get into everything. If I leave a kitchen gate open they sneak in and eat a loaf of bread and the box of cereal I left on the counter or shred a bag of flour and yes, that did happen recently.   

When I let them outside to play the neighbor dogs attempt to fight through the fence and my guys constantly end up with splintered bleeding faces from trying to eat the fence to get at the yippers.  By 3PM Sam and Dylan have reached their antagonizing witching hour in which Sam acts like a total crybaby and Dylan takes advantage of his bad mood by chasing him around the house until we are all ready to snap. I can't invite people over because my dogs are so unruly that entertaining company is no longer enjoyable for me.  And then there is the constant barking. 

Today Sam got into the trash and ripped up two diapers. 

We rescued our dogs and like I said, I love them so giving them up for adoption will never be in our cards.  They are our family.  But man.  I wish they could just take it easy on me for a few days so I can find peace in this house if only for a few hours. 

Just let me go to work for once while you stay home and deal with our insane brood. 

I spoke too soon.

Nothing gets me out of bed faster than the sound of a dog about to vomit.

At 5AM I awake to the sound of Avery about to throw up in his dog bed. I throw off the covers and flick on the light and begin mission Get This Dog Outside Before He Yooks. I grab him by the collar and yell, "Let's go, Avery! Not on the rug! Go in the hallway!"

He is snarfing and gargling and I lead him out of our bedroom to the safety of the wood floor and he proceeds to run right past the hallway and onto the rug in Dylan's room. Nooooooo, Avery, noooooo! My life is flashing before me.

Avery continues to pregame and humph on Dylan's rug so I grab him by the collar and rush him back into the hallway where he rushes back into our room again and throws up on our white carpet.

I am pretty ticked but I don't have long to wallow because he starts making that gagging sound again. Round 2!

I am more determined than ever to get him outside this time and I grab him by the collar and shout, "Let's GO, Avery! Outside!" as I rush him in the direction of the back door.

Avery proceeds to continually vomit down the stairs as he walks. You're kidding me. I lead him outside where he seems to be feeling just fine again.

I gather up my supplies in the kitchen for mission #3: Operation Cleanup.

Stair by stair I clean dog puke, cursing under my breath. When I get to our bedroom Dylan is sitting up in bed with the light still on. Sean is still mostly asleep.

Dylan asks me what I'm doing and I explain I'm cleaning dog vomit. He sleepily proclaims, "Good boy, Mama! Great job!"

We switched dog food brands last night, hence the puke. We were feeding them a 1 star rated dog food without knowing it and had made a special trip to the store for a highly recommended 4 star brand. I told Sean that we should wait until morning to feed them the new food because I didn't want to deal with having to deal with three dogs getting the shits in the middle of the night; taking care of Katie already leaves me with little sleep.

But Sean was eager to start feeding them better food and gave it to them last night with the promise that he would get up to let the dogs out if need be.

Things were going fine. On Facebook I wrote how impressed I was that it was 3:30AM and there had been no dog poop incidents.

Fast forward to 5AM and you know the rest.

After scrubbing the carpet and turning off the lights I hopped back into our bed and was happily greeted by a cuddly Dylan.

A few seconds later Avery began to lick himself after settling back into his dog bed. Slurp slurp slurp slurp. And then I hear Dylan quietly whisper:

"Jesus, be quiet. It's time for bed."

Really?

Sam and Katie taking a nice afternoon nap.

Towel face update

Sam is still wearing his towel. He gets an hour or so per day to be towel-less, but he soon starts licking his foot and sticking it in his ear so the towel goes back on. In great news his yeast infection is 97% gone. Good boy, Sam.

Upheaval at 38 weeks 5 days pregnant

I am not doing well mentally. This seems to happen to me during the last few weeks of pregnancy, I was just as much of a wreck when I was about to have Dylan. I'm one of those people who NEEDS to have a concrete plan. I need to acclimate myself to the plan and I need to know all of the details on how it will play out or else I stress like crazy over all of the what ifs, over things beyond my control that could go wrong, over the unknown. Obviously, I have zero control over when this baby decides she would like to show up and therefore my whole life gets turned upside down. For an entire month.

At my 35-week appointment my midwife mentioned that I just had to keep this baby in for one more week and then she would most likely be absolutely fine to be born. At that point I had my mind set on delivering this baby on her due date and I still had five weeks left to prepare for her arrival. Suddenly I realized that she could be here any day!! and my world turned once again. I prepared myself mentally that she could be born within a matter of days. Although Friday came and went, 36 weeks came and went, but I didn't go into labor.

Then there is the logistics of making sure someone can take care of Dylan and the dogs. My father-in-law lives about two minutes away and en route to the hospital so he is our first phone call when I go into labor. We talked about how he would happily come to our house--if I feel I have enough time--especially if Katie decides to come in the middle of the night, and that way Dylan won't even know we are gone. But my father-in-law is also the father to two young boys, Sean's little brothers, and they had been staying at his house for the last few days. So then I worried, well, what would happen if I go into labor and have to wake Dylan up in the middle of the night to take him to his grandpa's house and then he doesn't go back to sleep and my poor father-in-law gets stuck with a wide awake toddler who may or may not wake the other kids? So I tried my hardest not to go into labor then. Both Sean and his dad said, Don't worry! We'll make it work! but I worried. I didn't want to inconvenience anyone. If I woke up in the middle of the night feeling crampy, I wished hard that I wasn't in labor. But I didn't go into labor.

And then came the blizzard. Two feet of snow! What would happen if I went into labor then? Sean had cleared our driveway a bunch of times, dug out my car, and should we have had to make a trip to the hospital then how would we make it? Would I give birth in the car? How would we get up that hill on the way to my father-in-law's house? More worry. But I didn't go into labor.

For the past two weeks I have been feeling like I am in early labor. My braxton hicks contractions are constant and achy, I've had endless rounds of high energy followed by extreme exhaustion, and there are a bunch more signs that are gross that I will not go into, so I keep thinking tonight is the night! Kathleen is so low in my pelvis that it feels like she may fall out any second and yet she is so high in my ribs that they feel broken. At the end of the day I find myself on the couch breathing deeply and massaging my ribs because I am in such ridiculous pain that I am involuntarily laboring my breath. Sean wakes up every morning and goes to bed every night saying, "I cannot wait to meet my daughter, and I cannot wait to have a whole week of vacation with my family." Trust me, I tell him, I want her out just as much if not more than you do, Love.

And then there are the text messages and phone calls. Everyone is excited to meet her. Is she here? Are you still pregnant? I think she will be born on ________. After weeks of hearing these things over and over, I find myself not wanting to talk to anyone. Anyone. I don't even want to play with Dylan--I want to go off and be alone--and then I feel guilty because this could be our last memory together before I leave him for who knows how long. And a part of me loves these messages. It's all so exciting. [AKA: Don't stop sending them just because I'm having a crappy day, I do appreciate hearing from everyone.] But then there are the days where I could cry if someone else points out that I am still pregnant.

Today was one of them. I woke up this morning feeling so very down in the dumps. It's only Wednesday. I am still pregnant. I cannot believe I have three more ten-hour days with Dylan, stuck indoors because of the snow, before Sean comes home for the weekend. And why am I still freaking pregnant? This morning I laid on the floor in front of the fireplace in a lump. How will I make it through the day? Through the hour, even? I let Dylan watch Cars, twice, and tried to smile when he looked over at me. I was beyond useless. And most of today continued like this until I tried to snap out of my funk. We made muffins, read books, played trucks, checked the mail, ate some snow, etc. And I put Dylan down for his nap at noon and immediately found myself trying to catch my mental breath. I was alone. I needed to be alone.

And then about fifteen minutes after I was sure Dylan had fallen asleep Sam decided to lose. his. shit.



I'm sure a neighbor dog barked or he saw a squirrel or a bird or a falling leaf, and he began barking hysterically at the window. The other two dogs followed suit and suddenly our house was filled with screaming dogs. I rushed after them grabbing them by the collars and trying to drag them away from the window and they continued to bark loudly as I moved them into the living room and threw up a gate to keep them out of the den. Thirty seconds later I heard Dylan crying from his room.

Of course. Of course the dogs had to wake him.

So I curled myself into a ball and proceeded to lose my shit. I bawled into a couch pillow feeling ever so sorry for myself. And with Jasmine being Jasmine she felt the need to jump on me and lick the tears off of my face to comfort me. Dylan continued to yell, "Mama! I'm awake! Are you there?! Downstairs! Mama!" and I continued to cry, stopping only to yell up to him occasionally that it was still nap time and he should be in bed.

Twenty minutes later he yelled, "Mama!"..."Mama!"..."Mama!"..."Mama!"...and even when I responded to him he continued to simply yell Mama. I couldn't take it. I kept yelling, "What is it?", pleading with him to say anything but Mama. Finally I stomped upstairs, my face soaked in tears, scooped him up and held him close to me in his bed.

He noticed I was crying immediately.

"Mama? Don't cry! Don't cry, Mama! It's OKay, Mama!"

I could've died I felt so terrible. How sad that my tiny two year old was comforting me.

"I'm not crying, sweetheart, I have something in my eyes. They are just watery."

He put his little arms around me and gave me a huge squeeze and then traced my neck scar several times.

"Are you crying because of your boo boo, Mama? Watery eyes?"

I reassured him that I was just fine, not crying, and that my boo boo doesn't hurt, remember? He then asked if we could go to Home Depot. And then he asked if we could take pictures.




And I didn't feel like crying anymore, although I probably will later tonight.

These are my hormones talking. I could've predicted this the second that second line appeared on our home pregnancy test. This is how I handle the last few weeks of being pregnant. But seriously, I can't take another day of Dylan not napping. I can't take another day of not having our little girl in my arms. I can't take this rib pain or feeling like I'm carrying a bowling ball in my pelvis. I can't take any more of these when is she coming questions. I am not at all afraid of labor; I can take the pain. The uncertainty and the waiting is the worst part.

Tomorrow will be better.

Happy Gotcha Day!!!!

We adopted Jasmine five years ago today and she has kept us on our toes ever since. We love you, Poo Poo Meenie.

Sammy update

Towel face must be feeling better because he's been quite fresh today. Day 4 of his new ear treatment. :)

Thanks for noticing me.

I love this dog!