I'm not sure if I've ever explained "blind moment" to you. I must have, but just in case I haven't or you forget, this is what it is. I'm sure you can guess, but my friends and I back in high school dubbed my "Jess did a dumb thing because her eyeballs don't work" blind moments. You know, a play on words from "blond moment." The whole "blind moment" hasn't really gone away; particularly because I keep finding myself in sticky situations because my eyeballs don't work.
What did I do this time?
As all of you know, I'm working my way through my master's in social work from the University of Southern California. It's a crazy intense program that sees me sleeping, eating and doing school work. Mr. K has turned into an academic widow. Poor guy. He's been really great; even editing some of the formatting of my papers for me. I'm so grateful and lucky. This past week was super busy with essays, exams, reading and other school work as usual. I had a big midterm paper due for one of my classes that everyone in my program has been worried about. We basically had to write a Psychodynamic assessment of a client. Sounds scary, right? Well, it is...or was because mine is now submitted for grading.
About five days before it was due I began to think that I wouldn't have enough time to dedicate to the paper that would ensure I produced quality work. I emailed the professor and asked for a two day extension. For those of you who use screen readers you will already know that screen readers take twice as long to read things than if you were reading with your eyes and the retention rate is only 30 percent. So, that means things take me longer than other students. She granted me the extension based on this and I worked hard to make sure the paper was good quality and was ready to hand in by the new deadline.
As I mentioned above, Mr. K has been formatting sections of my papers for me. Sometimes weird things happen, like the bold staying on for an entire paragraph instead of for just the heading or the font changing on me. Knowing this he had set up a template for me that I could use. It had the correct font and was already double spaced. It is so nice having a computer genius for a husband. This template is what I wrote my giant midterm paper in, or so I thought.
If you've ever written a paper, you will know that if you move a document from being single spaced to double spaced the document automatically gets bigger. Remember this point as it's important.
Sunday night I had five pages written which meant that I was half way done because the paper had to be ten pages long. Monday, Tuesday and even into Wednesday I wrote some more and added in my citations which put me on to the tenth page. I was so excited because I had until midnight to hand it in, but I had it all ready by 3; plenty of time to spare. I sent it over to Mr. K for the usual check over and he told me that there were a few problems. My heart sank.
I was tired. I didn't want to think about my client anymore and I certainly did not want to write about the client anymore either. I thought something had happened and the font had been gigantic which meant that I'd have to write some more.
"It's single spaced and the whole thing is centred."
He told me.
"What?!"
Mr. K changed the margins so that the paper was moved back into the proper position and then double spaced it.
My once ten page paper suddenly became twenty.
I had literally written twice as much as I needed to. I could have been finished with it on Sunday and handed it in early, but now here I was with twice as much information...and a professor who was adamant that we should stick to the page limit.
"It's 8 to 10 pages." She had kept saying in class.
I emailed her and asked if she would take it. I wasn't sure how I would cut half of what I had written out. And besides, this never would have happened if I had seen that the document was single spaced and not double as I had thought.
She told me to send it over, but that if I had included irrelevant information that she would deduct marks. I think I should get more marks for my enthusiasm!
Alas, I guess we'll see what happens when she returns my enormous essay in the upcoming weeks.
So there you have it: another blind moment strikes again. :)
Friday, October 31, 2014
Saturday, October 25, 2014
So Many Choices
I say that in a positive manner. To be honest, my life has had a lot of opportunities for me to make choices. Sometimes I made good choices, other times not so much, but the point is I've been lucky enough to be able to make choices. Some people aren't so lucky.
However, sometimes, especially right now with so much going on in school, I don't want a choice. I just want things to be the way I set them up to begin with so I can carry on writing papers, completing assignments and studying for exams.
But, it's not meant to be.
In the MSW program I am taking all students must complete three semesters of field practicum. The first semester of the program we spend working with a virtual client which has been interesting, but starting in January we actually go to a placement. I've been looking forward to this since I was accepted into the program. Sure, I do okay with the academic side of things-actually, I've been shocking myself with my results thus far *knock on wood*-but I'm a hands on kind of person. I want to get in there and "get 'er done." I am glad, though, that we've had the opportunity to learn first because if I had been thrown into a placement without any education under my belt, I'd be floundering.
My dilemma is this:
When you start the program you are required to select a concentration. This means that starting in the second semester, the same time you go into placement, your courses begin to be more focused. You take courses pertaining to a particular topic instead of more general topics. At the University of Southern California (USC) there are five concentrations to choose from, with subconcentrations being available under those. It's pretty crazy. When I first enrolled I chose my concentration to be Health because I thought it would be interesting. People in this concentration work in hospitals, specialized clinics and such. As the program progressed, I realized that perhaps Mental Health was really where I wanted to be. It's not quite as broad as Health, but you can focus on substance abuse, mental illness as well as mental wellness. I switched my concentration not only because I thought Mental Health would be more of what I wanted to do, but also because it seemed to fit better into the field practicum placement that I wanted.
We are allowed to make suggestions to the field placement teams and I sent them my first choice. To me, Mental Health fit right in, and one field placement team member agreed with me. But, there's a slight problem.
I got the news yesterday that my first pick for placement would be interested in hosting me. I was very excited, but the issue is that the field placement team thinks that I need to switch my concentration again. They think that the placement would be better suited to a COPA (Community Organizing and Planning blah blah blah) concentration. I have no idea what all of the letters stand for. That should give you an idea of how interested I am in that concentration...not at all, just in case you missed that. In fact, parts of it scare me. :)
This concentration focuses on things more from a macro level-policy making, financial planning, grant writing Etc. As I've learned from being in school for two months, all aspects of social work will have bits where you have to write grants and/or financial plan and/or be a part of policy making. But, what I'm worried about is that if I go into the COPA concentration, I won't be able to work directly with the populations I want to serve. I don't want to sit behind a desk all day writing/planning/policy making.
There are parts of the COPA concentration that I like. There is an emphasis placed on advocacy, fundraising (which I usually like to do in a creative manner), and community organizing. You can go on to start up your own organization to help people and that interests me. I've always wanted to do something like that and if I learn how to grant write, I'd be in a better position to do that. So, I'm kind of stuck.
I really want to work in this placement, but the financial planning/grant writing scares me. I'm also worried I won't get to meet the people I'm working with. I guess I could take it upon myself to make sure I do.
I like the idea of advocacy, organizing fundraising and maybe one day opening my own organization.
Mental Health is more hands on. But, if I learn about policy making maybe I could work in a place where I help people by working on policies that will help them. That's a lot of helping. :P
Eeekk!
I don't know.
Anyway, I emailed the head of the COPA concentration program to find out more and I've also asked my field placement to enquire about what I would consider to be mental health aspects of the placement I want to be at.
I thought about taking the interview and seeing what they would want me to do. Maybe then I'd be better equipped to make a decision.
In some ways I'm over thinking this, but it's because I tend to be a planner. (Hmmmmm, maybe that aims me at COPA)? As my student advisor said and others said, an MSW degree is an MSW degree. Even if my concentration is Mental Health or COPA, I could really work in either field. I could always take the COPA concentration and fill my electives with Mental Health courses.
This all probably sounds like jibberish, if you've managed to read this post to the end. But, I had to write it out. It helps me think through the process a bit.
That said, I still have no idea what I'm going to do. LOL
However, sometimes, especially right now with so much going on in school, I don't want a choice. I just want things to be the way I set them up to begin with so I can carry on writing papers, completing assignments and studying for exams.
But, it's not meant to be.
In the MSW program I am taking all students must complete three semesters of field practicum. The first semester of the program we spend working with a virtual client which has been interesting, but starting in January we actually go to a placement. I've been looking forward to this since I was accepted into the program. Sure, I do okay with the academic side of things-actually, I've been shocking myself with my results thus far *knock on wood*-but I'm a hands on kind of person. I want to get in there and "get 'er done." I am glad, though, that we've had the opportunity to learn first because if I had been thrown into a placement without any education under my belt, I'd be floundering.
My dilemma is this:
When you start the program you are required to select a concentration. This means that starting in the second semester, the same time you go into placement, your courses begin to be more focused. You take courses pertaining to a particular topic instead of more general topics. At the University of Southern California (USC) there are five concentrations to choose from, with subconcentrations being available under those. It's pretty crazy. When I first enrolled I chose my concentration to be Health because I thought it would be interesting. People in this concentration work in hospitals, specialized clinics and such. As the program progressed, I realized that perhaps Mental Health was really where I wanted to be. It's not quite as broad as Health, but you can focus on substance abuse, mental illness as well as mental wellness. I switched my concentration not only because I thought Mental Health would be more of what I wanted to do, but also because it seemed to fit better into the field practicum placement that I wanted.
We are allowed to make suggestions to the field placement teams and I sent them my first choice. To me, Mental Health fit right in, and one field placement team member agreed with me. But, there's a slight problem.
I got the news yesterday that my first pick for placement would be interested in hosting me. I was very excited, but the issue is that the field placement team thinks that I need to switch my concentration again. They think that the placement would be better suited to a COPA (Community Organizing and Planning blah blah blah) concentration. I have no idea what all of the letters stand for. That should give you an idea of how interested I am in that concentration...not at all, just in case you missed that. In fact, parts of it scare me. :)
This concentration focuses on things more from a macro level-policy making, financial planning, grant writing Etc. As I've learned from being in school for two months, all aspects of social work will have bits where you have to write grants and/or financial plan and/or be a part of policy making. But, what I'm worried about is that if I go into the COPA concentration, I won't be able to work directly with the populations I want to serve. I don't want to sit behind a desk all day writing/planning/policy making.
There are parts of the COPA concentration that I like. There is an emphasis placed on advocacy, fundraising (which I usually like to do in a creative manner), and community organizing. You can go on to start up your own organization to help people and that interests me. I've always wanted to do something like that and if I learn how to grant write, I'd be in a better position to do that. So, I'm kind of stuck.
I really want to work in this placement, but the financial planning/grant writing scares me. I'm also worried I won't get to meet the people I'm working with. I guess I could take it upon myself to make sure I do.
I like the idea of advocacy, organizing fundraising and maybe one day opening my own organization.
Mental Health is more hands on. But, if I learn about policy making maybe I could work in a place where I help people by working on policies that will help them. That's a lot of helping. :P
Eeekk!
I don't know.
Anyway, I emailed the head of the COPA concentration program to find out more and I've also asked my field placement to enquire about what I would consider to be mental health aspects of the placement I want to be at.
I thought about taking the interview and seeing what they would want me to do. Maybe then I'd be better equipped to make a decision.
In some ways I'm over thinking this, but it's because I tend to be a planner. (Hmmmmm, maybe that aims me at COPA)? As my student advisor said and others said, an MSW degree is an MSW degree. Even if my concentration is Mental Health or COPA, I could really work in either field. I could always take the COPA concentration and fill my electives with Mental Health courses.
This all probably sounds like jibberish, if you've managed to read this post to the end. But, I had to write it out. It helps me think through the process a bit.
That said, I still have no idea what I'm going to do. LOL
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Pawprints On My Heart: Rufio
We lost our beautiful boy on Tuesday. He was in full renal failure and there really wasn't anything they could do for him. The vet told us that we could throw all the money in the world at the situation and it wouldn't save him; maybe buy him a few more days. But, what kind of a few more days would have that been? He wasn't even two yet. I think that is what makes this the hardest. You don't expect your not even two year old, bought from a reputable breeder cat to die so early in life.
But, it happens.
This is the first of our furry family members that Mr. K and I have lost together. It's hard. I'm doing better today than I was Tuesday, but even just writing the title of this blog brought the tears again. That said, he was such a beautiful soul, so full of life and spirit that I don't want to fill his tribute post full of sad thoughts. I want to celebrate his life. And, so this is our Rufio's story.
We got him from a breeder in England. We had researched like crazy and picked the Siberian Forest cat breed because they were considered to be low allergen. Mr. K is allergic to cats, but absolutely loves them and so for his birthday, we added a new fur kid to our family. We took the train to get him. We met his brothers and the rest of the Siberians the breeder had. We nearly took one of his brothers with us because he was so adorable, but we tried to make the responsible decision and only took one kitten. Rufio, also known as Witchfyre Rudolph Valentino, was supposed to be a show cat. He was also supposed to be the stud for our cattery. None of this was to be because we moved back to Canada. Finding him a wife proved incredibly difficult and we eventually just had him neutered. I was glad then we had for various reasons, but now I'm even more happy because Rufio had kidney disease which can be hereditary in Siberians. I guess the breed is prone to Poly-cystic Kidney Disease. I had no idea.
The first night we had him, we had to stay in a hotel. We missed our train back to Edinburgh and were stuck. We smuggled him into the hotel and set him free in our hotel room. Mr. K and I went down to eat some supper and I worried the whole time that the wee guy would hurt himself. When we returned, he was absolutely fine. We did have food for him, but no litter box. We kept praying that he wouldn't pee on the hotel carpet. He didn't. Instead, he used my shirt I had thrown on the floor before collapsing exhausted into bed. Thankfully, I had been wearing layers and he only peed on one layer.
He was the most inquisitive, animated and brave thing from the moment we got home. He used to try to sneak out the flat door when I took the dogs out, so I'd have to shut him in Mr. K's man cave where his litter box was until I got back. He used to yell his little head off until I got back and released him. He used to roll around in his litter box and eventually take a nap in there. He was mad for chicken. If you weren't paying attention, he'd steal chicken bones right off your plate and take off with them. He used to go under one of our couches so he could crack the bone open and eat the marrow out in peace. Even when he didn't even weigh 3 LBS, he would growl at the dogs if they came near his hideout while he ate his chicken.
We used to have one of those fishing rod toys with the feathers on the end. If he ever caught it, he would grab a hold and pull it under that same couch and growl at you if you tried to pull him back out. He fancied himself quite the hunter. He would get up on to Mr. K's desk and attack the characters on the screen while Mr. K played video games. His favourite snuggle spot, when he was still small enough, was on Mr. K's chest. However, eventually he got way too big and had to be satisfied laying on the couch beside us.
That little spunky kitten grew up and moved continents. He took the move well and made himself right at home in his new, way bigger, house. One of his favourite places to hang out was on top of the laundry hamper in front of the front window. Sometimes I wouldn't get the laundry upstairs, and he would hop up on to the basket and spend part of his day surveying the outside world from his comfy perch. The cupboards in our old place didn't close properly and he would open them up, go inside and hang out. You'd be cooking, or washing the dishes and suddenly a paw would come out of the cupboard door and tap you on the leg. If you were cooking he would push the door open a crack so he could snoopervise. We had one cupboard designated for plastic bags and he would go in there and swim around like a maniac. If you put any kind of box, especially if it still had packing paper, or those re-useable grocery bags on the floor he would try to stuff himself into it. We would never throw boxes out right away after buying stuff online because he got so much enjoyment out of thrashing about in the box with the packing paper.
He only ever got out once at our old place in Canada and it happened to be raining that morning. I went looking for him to give him breakfast and was concerned when he didn't come to his name when I called him. He always came to his name. I think his recall was better than the dogs. As I went through the house, calling his name, opening cupboards and closets, I heard him meow at me. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Finally, I woke Mr. K up, since he hears better than I do, and he came looking for him. There Rufio was, sitting on the back deck waiting for us to let him in. He never tried to leave again. Although he did push the second story window screen out one day so he could sit on the window sill outside.
He loved water. Siberians are known for this, but I was still surprised when I'd be having a shower and he'd hop in and hang out. We tried spraying him with the kitchen nozzle for getting into the sink and not leaving, but he didn't care. That triple layer coat of his made him nearly water proof like a Labrador.
His love of food never failed, until the end of course. He would hear a can open, and no matter what it was, he would come running yelling his head off. I think that is pretty typical cat behaviour, but what wasn't typical was how long he was and how that length allowed him to reach up to the counter top. He would hear a can, come running and then stretch himself up to reach whatever was on the counter. He would even get on the counter top, open the upper cupboards and steal the dehydrated meat treats I had made for the dogs. He used to open our hall closet because he wanted the dog food. We had to put a stop to that because dog food is not good for cats, but it was genius how he would know just where to push on the folding closet door to get it to open.
Looking back now, I think he was sick for longer than we knew. At some point his reliable recall dwindled a bit and I thought it was just because he was a cat and that he was growing up. He didn't feel the need to run to us all of the time. Whenever he heard Mr. K wake up, he would jump off of wherever he was and go running to greet him. Again, at some point this behaviour decreased a bit, but we didn't take notice. He was a cat.
Rufio and Otis used to be the best battle buddies. Rufio got less tolerant of the battling, but we thought it was because Otis was a bit too persistent. And, it could have been, but you look back and you wonder. Otis used to grab Rufio out from behind the curtain by the tail. Rufio taught Otis to wrap your arms around your victim and kick with your back paws. Otis still does this.
We got Kira in July to keep Rufio company at night when we were sleeping. He had started chewing things, including my bra straps, and we thought he was lonely. Of course there was a warm-up phase, but after that the two cats would have what the girls and I dubbed a long time ago "Kitten Olympics." They would race around, thundering up and down the hall. Not soon after Rufio started becoming intolerant of her kitten tendencies too. He became more withdrawn and we thought we had made a mistake bringing another cat into the house. We thought his behaviour was all because of her appearance.
I don't quite remember what made us think he was sick, but I remember Otis going to play with Rufio and Rufio growling at him. That had never happened before. He had basically stopped eating, but was still drinking. He had lost a lot of weight and we brought him in to the vet. They ran blood work and diagnosed him then with Pancreatitis which I have no doubt he had, but she never told us how bad his kidney levels were.
They put him on steroids and we were giving him subcutaneous fluids at home. He seemed to be bouncing back. He wanted food again, he had started weaving between our legs and purring again. Oh, he was the best purr machine. Siberians are known for their motors and Rufio was no exception. He was even reaching on to the counter tops again. We moved about a week after his first vet visit and he started declining again. We had been told to reduce his medicine and we had. So, we increased it again as they had said to if he started declining. The vet had told us that his kidney levels were "slightly elevated" and that we would have to get them checked again, but not for a few months if he got better.
When we took him in to the new vet on Tuesday and he read the faxed over records from the old vet, he informed us that a month ago Rufio's kidneys were only functioning at 30 percent. We were angry. "Slightly elevated" levels does not equal only 30 percent functioning. We had a long discussion with the vet about what kidney disease meant and what renal failure meant. We talked about how far gone Rufio was and what was best for him. We talked about how a month ago he was really sick then and that we had done all we could by giving him the subcutaneous fluids. The vet actually seemed a bit impressed that we had done that at home. It was an easy decision in that we knew what we needed to do for him, but it was the most painful decision because letting him go was so permanent.
He was such a beautiful cat. When I had carried him out on Tuesday, wrapped in a blanket with only his tail sticking out, the cab driver thought I was carrying a fox because of how big and full his tail was.
Part of you wonders "what if?" What if we had known a month ago? What if we had known something was wrong months ago? But, ultimately, the vet told us that kidney disease wins and you never know how much time you actually will have with them. Maybe it's better we didn't know because instead of spending the last few months worrying about him and him picking up on that, all he knew was love and happiness.
We left him in the vet's capable hands. The vet said Rufio was so far gone that he didn't even know what was going on around him. He wasn't in pain which made us both feel better.
Aside from Rufio's good looks, massive purr and soft coat, that cat brought so much life to our household. We will miss him very much and will never forget his crazy antics. Kira looked for him Tuesday night which was heart breaking, but I think she is doing okay. She and Otis have become Royal Rumble buddies and I think that is good.
So, Rufio: I hope you found your way across the rainbow bridge. I hope you found Sasha and the other furry family members already up there. I hope you found the biggest pile of plastic bags ever imaginable and I hope there is the biggest box filled with the most paper ever possible waiting for you. I will never forget the cat who turned me from just dog lover to cat lover too.
Here's to you Rufacus Maximus.
But, it happens.
This is the first of our furry family members that Mr. K and I have lost together. It's hard. I'm doing better today than I was Tuesday, but even just writing the title of this blog brought the tears again. That said, he was such a beautiful soul, so full of life and spirit that I don't want to fill his tribute post full of sad thoughts. I want to celebrate his life. And, so this is our Rufio's story.
We got him from a breeder in England. We had researched like crazy and picked the Siberian Forest cat breed because they were considered to be low allergen. Mr. K is allergic to cats, but absolutely loves them and so for his birthday, we added a new fur kid to our family. We took the train to get him. We met his brothers and the rest of the Siberians the breeder had. We nearly took one of his brothers with us because he was so adorable, but we tried to make the responsible decision and only took one kitten. Rufio, also known as Witchfyre Rudolph Valentino, was supposed to be a show cat. He was also supposed to be the stud for our cattery. None of this was to be because we moved back to Canada. Finding him a wife proved incredibly difficult and we eventually just had him neutered. I was glad then we had for various reasons, but now I'm even more happy because Rufio had kidney disease which can be hereditary in Siberians. I guess the breed is prone to Poly-cystic Kidney Disease. I had no idea.
The first night we had him, we had to stay in a hotel. We missed our train back to Edinburgh and were stuck. We smuggled him into the hotel and set him free in our hotel room. Mr. K and I went down to eat some supper and I worried the whole time that the wee guy would hurt himself. When we returned, he was absolutely fine. We did have food for him, but no litter box. We kept praying that he wouldn't pee on the hotel carpet. He didn't. Instead, he used my shirt I had thrown on the floor before collapsing exhausted into bed. Thankfully, I had been wearing layers and he only peed on one layer.
He was the most inquisitive, animated and brave thing from the moment we got home. He used to try to sneak out the flat door when I took the dogs out, so I'd have to shut him in Mr. K's man cave where his litter box was until I got back. He used to yell his little head off until I got back and released him. He used to roll around in his litter box and eventually take a nap in there. He was mad for chicken. If you weren't paying attention, he'd steal chicken bones right off your plate and take off with them. He used to go under one of our couches so he could crack the bone open and eat the marrow out in peace. Even when he didn't even weigh 3 LBS, he would growl at the dogs if they came near his hideout while he ate his chicken.
We used to have one of those fishing rod toys with the feathers on the end. If he ever caught it, he would grab a hold and pull it under that same couch and growl at you if you tried to pull him back out. He fancied himself quite the hunter. He would get up on to Mr. K's desk and attack the characters on the screen while Mr. K played video games. His favourite snuggle spot, when he was still small enough, was on Mr. K's chest. However, eventually he got way too big and had to be satisfied laying on the couch beside us.
That little spunky kitten grew up and moved continents. He took the move well and made himself right at home in his new, way bigger, house. One of his favourite places to hang out was on top of the laundry hamper in front of the front window. Sometimes I wouldn't get the laundry upstairs, and he would hop up on to the basket and spend part of his day surveying the outside world from his comfy perch. The cupboards in our old place didn't close properly and he would open them up, go inside and hang out. You'd be cooking, or washing the dishes and suddenly a paw would come out of the cupboard door and tap you on the leg. If you were cooking he would push the door open a crack so he could snoopervise. We had one cupboard designated for plastic bags and he would go in there and swim around like a maniac. If you put any kind of box, especially if it still had packing paper, or those re-useable grocery bags on the floor he would try to stuff himself into it. We would never throw boxes out right away after buying stuff online because he got so much enjoyment out of thrashing about in the box with the packing paper.
He only ever got out once at our old place in Canada and it happened to be raining that morning. I went looking for him to give him breakfast and was concerned when he didn't come to his name when I called him. He always came to his name. I think his recall was better than the dogs. As I went through the house, calling his name, opening cupboards and closets, I heard him meow at me. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Finally, I woke Mr. K up, since he hears better than I do, and he came looking for him. There Rufio was, sitting on the back deck waiting for us to let him in. He never tried to leave again. Although he did push the second story window screen out one day so he could sit on the window sill outside.
He loved water. Siberians are known for this, but I was still surprised when I'd be having a shower and he'd hop in and hang out. We tried spraying him with the kitchen nozzle for getting into the sink and not leaving, but he didn't care. That triple layer coat of his made him nearly water proof like a Labrador.
His love of food never failed, until the end of course. He would hear a can open, and no matter what it was, he would come running yelling his head off. I think that is pretty typical cat behaviour, but what wasn't typical was how long he was and how that length allowed him to reach up to the counter top. He would hear a can, come running and then stretch himself up to reach whatever was on the counter. He would even get on the counter top, open the upper cupboards and steal the dehydrated meat treats I had made for the dogs. He used to open our hall closet because he wanted the dog food. We had to put a stop to that because dog food is not good for cats, but it was genius how he would know just where to push on the folding closet door to get it to open.
Looking back now, I think he was sick for longer than we knew. At some point his reliable recall dwindled a bit and I thought it was just because he was a cat and that he was growing up. He didn't feel the need to run to us all of the time. Whenever he heard Mr. K wake up, he would jump off of wherever he was and go running to greet him. Again, at some point this behaviour decreased a bit, but we didn't take notice. He was a cat.
Rufio and Otis used to be the best battle buddies. Rufio got less tolerant of the battling, but we thought it was because Otis was a bit too persistent. And, it could have been, but you look back and you wonder. Otis used to grab Rufio out from behind the curtain by the tail. Rufio taught Otis to wrap your arms around your victim and kick with your back paws. Otis still does this.
We got Kira in July to keep Rufio company at night when we were sleeping. He had started chewing things, including my bra straps, and we thought he was lonely. Of course there was a warm-up phase, but after that the two cats would have what the girls and I dubbed a long time ago "Kitten Olympics." They would race around, thundering up and down the hall. Not soon after Rufio started becoming intolerant of her kitten tendencies too. He became more withdrawn and we thought we had made a mistake bringing another cat into the house. We thought his behaviour was all because of her appearance.
I don't quite remember what made us think he was sick, but I remember Otis going to play with Rufio and Rufio growling at him. That had never happened before. He had basically stopped eating, but was still drinking. He had lost a lot of weight and we brought him in to the vet. They ran blood work and diagnosed him then with Pancreatitis which I have no doubt he had, but she never told us how bad his kidney levels were.
They put him on steroids and we were giving him subcutaneous fluids at home. He seemed to be bouncing back. He wanted food again, he had started weaving between our legs and purring again. Oh, he was the best purr machine. Siberians are known for their motors and Rufio was no exception. He was even reaching on to the counter tops again. We moved about a week after his first vet visit and he started declining again. We had been told to reduce his medicine and we had. So, we increased it again as they had said to if he started declining. The vet had told us that his kidney levels were "slightly elevated" and that we would have to get them checked again, but not for a few months if he got better.
When we took him in to the new vet on Tuesday and he read the faxed over records from the old vet, he informed us that a month ago Rufio's kidneys were only functioning at 30 percent. We were angry. "Slightly elevated" levels does not equal only 30 percent functioning. We had a long discussion with the vet about what kidney disease meant and what renal failure meant. We talked about how far gone Rufio was and what was best for him. We talked about how a month ago he was really sick then and that we had done all we could by giving him the subcutaneous fluids. The vet actually seemed a bit impressed that we had done that at home. It was an easy decision in that we knew what we needed to do for him, but it was the most painful decision because letting him go was so permanent.
He was such a beautiful cat. When I had carried him out on Tuesday, wrapped in a blanket with only his tail sticking out, the cab driver thought I was carrying a fox because of how big and full his tail was.
Part of you wonders "what if?" What if we had known a month ago? What if we had known something was wrong months ago? But, ultimately, the vet told us that kidney disease wins and you never know how much time you actually will have with them. Maybe it's better we didn't know because instead of spending the last few months worrying about him and him picking up on that, all he knew was love and happiness.
We left him in the vet's capable hands. The vet said Rufio was so far gone that he didn't even know what was going on around him. He wasn't in pain which made us both feel better.
Aside from Rufio's good looks, massive purr and soft coat, that cat brought so much life to our household. We will miss him very much and will never forget his crazy antics. Kira looked for him Tuesday night which was heart breaking, but I think she is doing okay. She and Otis have become Royal Rumble buddies and I think that is good.
So, Rufio: I hope you found your way across the rainbow bridge. I hope you found Sasha and the other furry family members already up there. I hope you found the biggest pile of plastic bags ever imaginable and I hope there is the biggest box filled with the most paper ever possible waiting for you. I will never forget the cat who turned me from just dog lover to cat lover too.
Here's to you Rufacus Maximus.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Time Flies
When was the last time I wrote?
My goodness.
It's been much too long.
As I always say when I leave this blog alone for too long, much has happened and continues to happen.
Frist, we moved...again. This time it was so Mr. K could attend a msters program which he got into, by the way. Yay him! He was also given a grant that will cover a lot of his tuition. His hard work in his under Grad degree paid off. I am so proud of him.
The move was incredibly stressful. I think moving to Scotland was less stressful. I think it was so difficult bcause I was in classes-and still am in classes-and there is just so much work with this program. The first week we were in our new place we were without internet. So, I fell a week behind, and, of course it was when the work load really started increasing. I'm pretty much caught up now, but I don't think I'll get a break until Christmas-the work just keeps coming.
That said, I really enjoy the program. It's interesting and really well structured. I'm waiting to hear about a placement since starting in January I have to go to a practicum two to three times a week.
We had some struggles when we first moved in with the animals too, of course.
Hermione was stressed and kept peeing inside. I finally leashed her and have had her on leash inside ever since. It's been an adjustment, but honestly, it's really helped her. Otis and Nala were a bit more barky than normal and Roscoe just took it all in stride.
Kira tried to run out the back door a million times, but I think she's just an escape artist at heart.
Rufio is not doing well. He was diagnosd with pancreatitis about a week before we moved-more stress. We gave him his medication and we were having to give him subcutaneous fluids every day. He seemed to be getting better, but he's been steadily declining since arriving here. He's still taking his medication, but it's not helping anymore. He's going to the vet today because, if I'm being compleely honest, he is very close to crossing the rainbow bridge. He has quit eating and drinking and can barely walk. I have tried grooming him because his beautiful coat is all matted, but he doesn't want me brushing him. He used to love being brushed. It made me feel better in a way though this morning when I tried to comb him and he found the strength to walk away from me. I left him be.
So, I am hoping that the vet can help him. I don't think he has pancreatitis since he isn't responding to the medication. He is definitely really dehydrated. Mr. K and I feel so badly that he's been suffering, but with the move funds for the vet were eaten up...not to mention the crazy high vet bill we got before moving.
In happier news, we both love the city we've moved to. It's very blind/pedestrian friendly. The buses are reliable and talk and most drivers are incredibly helpful. We haven't been able to explore as much as I'd like because of me trying to catch up in school, but we are hoping to go to the market on Saturday to check it out. I know Nala is enjoying living here because we get out and work quite a bit. We're still learning routes though so I wouldn't say that I travel independently yet.
We also started a youtube channel to showcase our crazy animals' antics. I think there are three videos up now. I'd post a link, but as you all know, Blogger isn't accessible completely anymore. So, posting links/photos/videos Etc can't happen when using a screen reader.
So, that's that, really. I mean, obviously when things were going on...like moving and not having a place to move into until four days before we moved...there was more to say about it all, but that would be a book and not a blog post. The cure for that would be to blog on a more regular basis. :)
But, I'll leave you for now and work harder at writing more frequently.
My goodness.
It's been much too long.
As I always say when I leave this blog alone for too long, much has happened and continues to happen.
Frist, we moved...again. This time it was so Mr. K could attend a msters program which he got into, by the way. Yay him! He was also given a grant that will cover a lot of his tuition. His hard work in his under Grad degree paid off. I am so proud of him.
The move was incredibly stressful. I think moving to Scotland was less stressful. I think it was so difficult bcause I was in classes-and still am in classes-and there is just so much work with this program. The first week we were in our new place we were without internet. So, I fell a week behind, and, of course it was when the work load really started increasing. I'm pretty much caught up now, but I don't think I'll get a break until Christmas-the work just keeps coming.
That said, I really enjoy the program. It's interesting and really well structured. I'm waiting to hear about a placement since starting in January I have to go to a practicum two to three times a week.
We had some struggles when we first moved in with the animals too, of course.
Hermione was stressed and kept peeing inside. I finally leashed her and have had her on leash inside ever since. It's been an adjustment, but honestly, it's really helped her. Otis and Nala were a bit more barky than normal and Roscoe just took it all in stride.
Kira tried to run out the back door a million times, but I think she's just an escape artist at heart.
Rufio is not doing well. He was diagnosd with pancreatitis about a week before we moved-more stress. We gave him his medication and we were having to give him subcutaneous fluids every day. He seemed to be getting better, but he's been steadily declining since arriving here. He's still taking his medication, but it's not helping anymore. He's going to the vet today because, if I'm being compleely honest, he is very close to crossing the rainbow bridge. He has quit eating and drinking and can barely walk. I have tried grooming him because his beautiful coat is all matted, but he doesn't want me brushing him. He used to love being brushed. It made me feel better in a way though this morning when I tried to comb him and he found the strength to walk away from me. I left him be.
So, I am hoping that the vet can help him. I don't think he has pancreatitis since he isn't responding to the medication. He is definitely really dehydrated. Mr. K and I feel so badly that he's been suffering, but with the move funds for the vet were eaten up...not to mention the crazy high vet bill we got before moving.
In happier news, we both love the city we've moved to. It's very blind/pedestrian friendly. The buses are reliable and talk and most drivers are incredibly helpful. We haven't been able to explore as much as I'd like because of me trying to catch up in school, but we are hoping to go to the market on Saturday to check it out. I know Nala is enjoying living here because we get out and work quite a bit. We're still learning routes though so I wouldn't say that I travel independently yet.
We also started a youtube channel to showcase our crazy animals' antics. I think there are three videos up now. I'd post a link, but as you all know, Blogger isn't accessible completely anymore. So, posting links/photos/videos Etc can't happen when using a screen reader.
So, that's that, really. I mean, obviously when things were going on...like moving and not having a place to move into until four days before we moved...there was more to say about it all, but that would be a book and not a blog post. The cure for that would be to blog on a more regular basis. :)
But, I'll leave you for now and work harder at writing more frequently.
Saturday, September 06, 2014
Shopping Fun
Our little city has just gotten a Pet Smart. In some ways I think it's great and in others, not so much. The not so much part is that I worry about the smaller pet retailers in town, but it's good because it gives dog owners a place to go to with their beasties. There really aren't a lot of dog friendly places in the city for some reason and with the winters being as long as they are up here, it's good to have a place to go that is inside.
Today was the grand opening and Lindsay, Baloo, Nala and I got up and bright and early to make sure we were part of the first 50 customers through the door. They were handing out gift cards to the first 50 which was nice of course, but it was also fun just to be there.
We lined up in a long line of people and dogs. There were people there without dogs too whom I am assuming were cat owners. One family stood near us and the two little kids kept talking about the kinds of reptiles they were going to buy. Their mom was a little hesitant about the snake idea, but hinted that they may get the turtle they wanted.
There were dogs of every shape, size and colour...and noise level. There was a Bernese Mountain Dog standing in front of us, a Standard Poodle, some wee thingy in a stroller, a Lab cross of some sort who kept yelling and many more. When we finally got inside we met an 11 week old miniature poodle and another puppy that was crossed with a Dachshund, Spaniel and something else. It was so small that its dog guardian was carrying him around in a Frizby. He was fast asleep. Stinking adorable.
We did get our gift card. It was for $5, but the guy behind us, who was shopping for his partner's cat, switched his for ours. He had gotten $10. I had teased him that we had two dogs and when we got inside he swapped the cards. I was only kidding I tried to explain, but he switched it anyway. The generosity of some people just blows my mind sometimes.
There were raffles set up for people to put ballots in to as well as a draw for a year of free grooming.
I had Nala wear her harness as I thought this would be a good training opportunity. In the line-up I had her hold a sit/stay which was very difficult, but with some gentle reminders she kept her cool and her butt on the ground.
In the store she was expected to maintain her professional attitude. It was hard at first because when we first walked in everyone and their dogs were gathered around the tables to fill out their ballots. However, despite people and dogs passing by she stayed focused and held her sit/stay for the most part.
We then wandered about looking at all of the goods. We started in the doggie clothing aisle because we both get a kick out of that stuff. Hermione owns a winter coat and Otis owns a hoodie that our friends gave him, but other than that our dogs don't have clothes. That said, I was a little tempted by the Batman and Superman no-slip doggie socks for small dogs. Nala did try a Hello Kitty hat on for size and although she looked adorable, I would never force that embarrassment on her on a daily basis.
We hit the Halloween costume aisle next. There was everything from monster costumes to pumpkins to butterfly princesses. Lindsay thought Baloo would make a handsome dragon. I'd have to agree.
We spent more time looking at the collar/leash/harness aisle, the entire aisle dedicated to Kong products and then to the natural chew aisle.
I really could have spent a fortune in there. I'm a bit ridiculous, but I contained myself to a bag of dog food which we needed, a bag of Bully sticks and a package of freeze dried duck treats for recalls.
I didn't buy the hot pink collar I had looked at for Nala or the Kong toys I contemplated. I resisted the cute hair accessories for Hermione and the pink and blingy collar that totally matches her diva attitude. The doggie life jacket did cross my mind for Otis and I nearly bought Roscoe a doggie backpack. I know all of the dogs would have appreciated the elk antlers I nearly added to the cart. No matter how I was tempted by the various Kong toys and the adorable Halloween Skinnies, I kept myself under control.
I think that Nala and I both did very well. I resisted the temptation of cute/fun/adorable doggie products and she resisted the temptation of people/dogs/toys/treats that were all in her face.
By the end of the almost two hours that we were there, Baloo was riding in the shopping cart with the dog food bag, the treats and Lindsay's purse. He was certainly done shopping.
Seriously though, I was really proud of Nala and impressed by her professional behaviour. I'm so lucky to have such a great working dog.
Today was the grand opening and Lindsay, Baloo, Nala and I got up and bright and early to make sure we were part of the first 50 customers through the door. They were handing out gift cards to the first 50 which was nice of course, but it was also fun just to be there.
We lined up in a long line of people and dogs. There were people there without dogs too whom I am assuming were cat owners. One family stood near us and the two little kids kept talking about the kinds of reptiles they were going to buy. Their mom was a little hesitant about the snake idea, but hinted that they may get the turtle they wanted.
There were dogs of every shape, size and colour...and noise level. There was a Bernese Mountain Dog standing in front of us, a Standard Poodle, some wee thingy in a stroller, a Lab cross of some sort who kept yelling and many more. When we finally got inside we met an 11 week old miniature poodle and another puppy that was crossed with a Dachshund, Spaniel and something else. It was so small that its dog guardian was carrying him around in a Frizby. He was fast asleep. Stinking adorable.
We did get our gift card. It was for $5, but the guy behind us, who was shopping for his partner's cat, switched his for ours. He had gotten $10. I had teased him that we had two dogs and when we got inside he swapped the cards. I was only kidding I tried to explain, but he switched it anyway. The generosity of some people just blows my mind sometimes.
There were raffles set up for people to put ballots in to as well as a draw for a year of free grooming.
I had Nala wear her harness as I thought this would be a good training opportunity. In the line-up I had her hold a sit/stay which was very difficult, but with some gentle reminders she kept her cool and her butt on the ground.
In the store she was expected to maintain her professional attitude. It was hard at first because when we first walked in everyone and their dogs were gathered around the tables to fill out their ballots. However, despite people and dogs passing by she stayed focused and held her sit/stay for the most part.
We then wandered about looking at all of the goods. We started in the doggie clothing aisle because we both get a kick out of that stuff. Hermione owns a winter coat and Otis owns a hoodie that our friends gave him, but other than that our dogs don't have clothes. That said, I was a little tempted by the Batman and Superman no-slip doggie socks for small dogs. Nala did try a Hello Kitty hat on for size and although she looked adorable, I would never force that embarrassment on her on a daily basis.
We hit the Halloween costume aisle next. There was everything from monster costumes to pumpkins to butterfly princesses. Lindsay thought Baloo would make a handsome dragon. I'd have to agree.
We spent more time looking at the collar/leash/harness aisle, the entire aisle dedicated to Kong products and then to the natural chew aisle.
I really could have spent a fortune in there. I'm a bit ridiculous, but I contained myself to a bag of dog food which we needed, a bag of Bully sticks and a package of freeze dried duck treats for recalls.
I didn't buy the hot pink collar I had looked at for Nala or the Kong toys I contemplated. I resisted the cute hair accessories for Hermione and the pink and blingy collar that totally matches her diva attitude. The doggie life jacket did cross my mind for Otis and I nearly bought Roscoe a doggie backpack. I know all of the dogs would have appreciated the elk antlers I nearly added to the cart. No matter how I was tempted by the various Kong toys and the adorable Halloween Skinnies, I kept myself under control.
I think that Nala and I both did very well. I resisted the temptation of cute/fun/adorable doggie products and she resisted the temptation of people/dogs/toys/treats that were all in her face.
By the end of the almost two hours that we were there, Baloo was riding in the shopping cart with the dog food bag, the treats and Lindsay's purse. He was certainly done shopping.
Seriously though, I was really proud of Nala and impressed by her professional behaviour. I'm so lucky to have such a great working dog.
Friday, September 05, 2014
Back to School
So, my program has started. I suspect that my blogs will probably be even more far and few between. Tuesday was my first day and I'm already super busy. At least, it feels super busy. I have a sneaking suspicion it will get way busier and I'll think this was a cake walk.
I think the biggest adjustment is just getting used to having to do things and staying on top of six classes various assignments/readings/lectures.
That said, I love it. So far, all but one professor are amazing and the topics are great. I'm in what the university has dubbed the "foundational year" which means that I am taking my core courses. Starting next semester I'll get to pick a few electives and starting in the spring I will enter my "concentration year." This part of the program allows the student to specialise in a particular branch of social work. I've picked health with a subconcentration in elderly people. I have this really amazing professor though who teaches the military subconcentration and I've thought about switching my subconcentration just so I can learn some more from him. That is just how good he is. He makes me want to learn.
I have some time to decide though.
That said, I have to get used to thinking a lot and so I'm whipped. I know I'll build up a tolerance, but it's no wonder why I napped so much during my under Grad.
I've called it quits for the rest of tonight. So, I'm going to set this laptop down and be sleepy on the couch with my fuzzy creatures.
I think the biggest adjustment is just getting used to having to do things and staying on top of six classes various assignments/readings/lectures.
That said, I love it. So far, all but one professor are amazing and the topics are great. I'm in what the university has dubbed the "foundational year" which means that I am taking my core courses. Starting next semester I'll get to pick a few electives and starting in the spring I will enter my "concentration year." This part of the program allows the student to specialise in a particular branch of social work. I've picked health with a subconcentration in elderly people. I have this really amazing professor though who teaches the military subconcentration and I've thought about switching my subconcentration just so I can learn some more from him. That is just how good he is. He makes me want to learn.
I have some time to decide though.
That said, I have to get used to thinking a lot and so I'm whipped. I know I'll build up a tolerance, but it's no wonder why I napped so much during my under Grad.
I've called it quits for the rest of tonight. So, I'm going to set this laptop down and be sleepy on the couch with my fuzzy creatures.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Sneaky Kitty
If you had read my post about our newest family member, you will remember me saying that we were warned about Kira's escape artistry. When she was in the humane society, she used to escape out of the kitty room to go visit the rabbits.
Since coming home with us, after having been in the shelter for nearly three months, Kira has had a few attempted escapes. One of them caused her to stop and think because I accidentally closed her paw in the front door. We thought that this may have deterred her, but apparently the back sliding door isn't as scary as the front one that caught her paw.
Last night Mr. K and I walked over to the little park that is near our place to let the dogs run. Everyone really needed to burn off some energy. Hermione walked over off leash because she actually does better off leash than on and the other three were released once we arrived. They all ran hard and had a great time. They were obedient enough to take a time out to let two very little boys pet them all. Then, we went back home to have some supper.
I can't remember if it was before or after we ate, but at some point Roscoe needed out. They all had had quite a bit of water when we got back from their run. I think that's when our little sneaky kitty made her move.
I honestly don't know how long she was outside for, but when I was getting ready for bed, I ran down into the basement to feed the cats as I do every night. Rufio arrived on the scene, purring and rubbing on me in anticipation of his dinner. However, when I called Kira, she didn't show. After some calling and food bowl banging, Mr. K started searching the house.
And still no Kira.
I knew as we opened closet doors that hadn't been opened, just to make sure she hadn't magically been locked inside, that she was probably outside.
We've had her just shy of a month and I wondered if we had lost her. She was after all a stray cat who had spent nearly three months in a shelter. There was no saying what she would do.
I opened the back door and called her, banging her food bowl that was filled with kitty kibble. The dogs looming in the doorway behind me started letting out little woofs and I wondered that if perhaps she was out there and they could sort of see her. I didn't want them to scare her off if it was in fact her, so I closed the door and resumed my calling and food rattling.
She meowed.
I called again just in case I was hearing things and the meow came again, just much louder.
"She's out here." I called back into the house."But I don't know where."
Mr. K came out and I continued to call her name. She kept meowing back. Mr. K found her on the other side of our fence in our neighbour's yard. At first, she wouldn't let him pick her up, but when she finally did she climbed up his shoulder and tried to sit on his head. Once she was inside with the door firmly closed behind her, I ran down to her feeding station and she followed along happily. She had a few little burs stuck to her, but she was a bit too over stimulated from her little excursion that she wouldn't let me pull them off. I left her to eat in peace. I'd have to get the burs off in the morning.
I'm not sure how we lucked out to have two cats that answer to their names; especially since Kira has had her name for only a month. What's even more lucky for us is that not only do they come when called, but they both meow in response.
I know Kira was happy to be back inside last night. At 5 AM she started assaulting our bedroom door to get in to sleep with us. She and Rufio also had Kitten Olympics at some point last night too. She also scarfed down all of her food.
Now that we know that she isn't afraid of the back door, I'm going to have to be extra careful when opening and closing it. When I let the big dogs out I get Kira to go into the basement and close the door so that I know she won't sneak out under Nala or Roscoe's bellies. Kira is just a curious and active kitty, the two qualities that made us pick her, but it also means that we have a little mischievous soul on our hands.
At her next vet appointment, not only will Kira be given her yearly vaccinations, but she will be also getting microchipped.
Since coming home with us, after having been in the shelter for nearly three months, Kira has had a few attempted escapes. One of them caused her to stop and think because I accidentally closed her paw in the front door. We thought that this may have deterred her, but apparently the back sliding door isn't as scary as the front one that caught her paw.
Last night Mr. K and I walked over to the little park that is near our place to let the dogs run. Everyone really needed to burn off some energy. Hermione walked over off leash because she actually does better off leash than on and the other three were released once we arrived. They all ran hard and had a great time. They were obedient enough to take a time out to let two very little boys pet them all. Then, we went back home to have some supper.
I can't remember if it was before or after we ate, but at some point Roscoe needed out. They all had had quite a bit of water when we got back from their run. I think that's when our little sneaky kitty made her move.
I honestly don't know how long she was outside for, but when I was getting ready for bed, I ran down into the basement to feed the cats as I do every night. Rufio arrived on the scene, purring and rubbing on me in anticipation of his dinner. However, when I called Kira, she didn't show. After some calling and food bowl banging, Mr. K started searching the house.
And still no Kira.
I knew as we opened closet doors that hadn't been opened, just to make sure she hadn't magically been locked inside, that she was probably outside.
We've had her just shy of a month and I wondered if we had lost her. She was after all a stray cat who had spent nearly three months in a shelter. There was no saying what she would do.
I opened the back door and called her, banging her food bowl that was filled with kitty kibble. The dogs looming in the doorway behind me started letting out little woofs and I wondered that if perhaps she was out there and they could sort of see her. I didn't want them to scare her off if it was in fact her, so I closed the door and resumed my calling and food rattling.
She meowed.
I called again just in case I was hearing things and the meow came again, just much louder.
"She's out here." I called back into the house."But I don't know where."
Mr. K came out and I continued to call her name. She kept meowing back. Mr. K found her on the other side of our fence in our neighbour's yard. At first, she wouldn't let him pick her up, but when she finally did she climbed up his shoulder and tried to sit on his head. Once she was inside with the door firmly closed behind her, I ran down to her feeding station and she followed along happily. She had a few little burs stuck to her, but she was a bit too over stimulated from her little excursion that she wouldn't let me pull them off. I left her to eat in peace. I'd have to get the burs off in the morning.
I'm not sure how we lucked out to have two cats that answer to their names; especially since Kira has had her name for only a month. What's even more lucky for us is that not only do they come when called, but they both meow in response.
I know Kira was happy to be back inside last night. At 5 AM she started assaulting our bedroom door to get in to sleep with us. She and Rufio also had Kitten Olympics at some point last night too. She also scarfed down all of her food.
Now that we know that she isn't afraid of the back door, I'm going to have to be extra careful when opening and closing it. When I let the big dogs out I get Kira to go into the basement and close the door so that I know she won't sneak out under Nala or Roscoe's bellies. Kira is just a curious and active kitty, the two qualities that made us pick her, but it also means that we have a little mischievous soul on our hands.
At her next vet appointment, not only will Kira be given her yearly vaccinations, but she will be also getting microchipped.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Brain/Mouth Filter
I have to say that over the years, my brain/mouth filter has been refined. It has been, and still is a work in progress. The reason for the construction of such a strong and reliable filter?
Quite often as a blind person I encounter people on a regular basis who may deserve a stern talking to; and that's putting it mildly. (I suppose, everyone whether they are blind or not, encounters similar idiots). However, I've learned to ignore a lot of behaviour that would require such a talking to for many reasons. The main reason being that if I went on a rampage every time someone acted like an idiot just because I'm blind, I'd be an angry and nasty person. Also, I've come to realise that much of people's poor behaviour comes from ignorance and fear. Letting my tongue fly wouldn't help or fix the situation. So, I've learned to be more eloquent or just ignore it all together. Carrying on speaking at your normal speaking volume when someone is talking to you at top volume because they think your blindness means your ears don't work, is usually better than getting angry at them. However, there are times when my filter fails and this morning was an example of that.
As per my normal morning routine, I leashed Hermione and Otis up to go walk through the little park that is around the corner from our place. (Hermione is back to her normal self, by the way). Hermione wears an extenda leash for these walks because then she can go off and explore the park without getting into trouble. People tend to dump garbage and stuff and I'd hate for her to get into something dangerous.
As soon as we hit the paved walk way, Otis pulled over to pee. Hermione had gone on ahead, but hadn't reached the limits of her extenda leash. As Otis finished his business I heard bike tires spraying up gravel coming at me. It was hard to tell exactly where the bike was so instead of reeling Hermione in, I left her out. She was off to the side and I was worried that if I called her to me she could potentially get tangled up in the bike's tires. Otis and I were off to the side as well; my white cane in my hand, slightly extended. (This is a very important part of this story). That little park is so small that I could walk around it without my white cane, but I use it just in case the neighbourhood kids leave something on one of the paths and also because it identifies me as blind.
The tires kept coming at me. The gravel spraying continued as if the rider was hitting the brakes and then releasing.
Just as the rider got to me he says in a very sarcastic tone:
"You'd think you'd move out of the way eh? Wow!"
That was it. My shocked silence was ended. Filter failed.
"I'm blind you dumb a*s!" I shouted at his retreating back. I know he heard me. I was a cheerleader a long time ago. My voice carries.
I'll blame it on the early hour and my brain still waking up. Or perhaps he just got what I've been holding back from other dumb a**es. Whatever it was, I'm not going to lie: it felt good to voice my annoyance instead of just turning the other cheek.
No, I'm not going to make a habit of going around and calling people who squish themselves as far up against a building wall as they can when I walk by dumb a**es or the people who cut in front of me in line. As I said above, getting angry about every jerk that crosses your path just isn't worth it, but sometimes just sometimes, it's appropriate to set the record straight and call it the way it is.
So, although I will continue to fortify my brain/mouth filter, I know that there will be times when it will fail. Here's to hoping that when it does, I'm not the one looking like the dumb a*s.
Quite often as a blind person I encounter people on a regular basis who may deserve a stern talking to; and that's putting it mildly. (I suppose, everyone whether they are blind or not, encounters similar idiots). However, I've learned to ignore a lot of behaviour that would require such a talking to for many reasons. The main reason being that if I went on a rampage every time someone acted like an idiot just because I'm blind, I'd be an angry and nasty person. Also, I've come to realise that much of people's poor behaviour comes from ignorance and fear. Letting my tongue fly wouldn't help or fix the situation. So, I've learned to be more eloquent or just ignore it all together. Carrying on speaking at your normal speaking volume when someone is talking to you at top volume because they think your blindness means your ears don't work, is usually better than getting angry at them. However, there are times when my filter fails and this morning was an example of that.
As per my normal morning routine, I leashed Hermione and Otis up to go walk through the little park that is around the corner from our place. (Hermione is back to her normal self, by the way). Hermione wears an extenda leash for these walks because then she can go off and explore the park without getting into trouble. People tend to dump garbage and stuff and I'd hate for her to get into something dangerous.
As soon as we hit the paved walk way, Otis pulled over to pee. Hermione had gone on ahead, but hadn't reached the limits of her extenda leash. As Otis finished his business I heard bike tires spraying up gravel coming at me. It was hard to tell exactly where the bike was so instead of reeling Hermione in, I left her out. She was off to the side and I was worried that if I called her to me she could potentially get tangled up in the bike's tires. Otis and I were off to the side as well; my white cane in my hand, slightly extended. (This is a very important part of this story). That little park is so small that I could walk around it without my white cane, but I use it just in case the neighbourhood kids leave something on one of the paths and also because it identifies me as blind.
The tires kept coming at me. The gravel spraying continued as if the rider was hitting the brakes and then releasing.
Just as the rider got to me he says in a very sarcastic tone:
"You'd think you'd move out of the way eh? Wow!"
That was it. My shocked silence was ended. Filter failed.
"I'm blind you dumb a*s!" I shouted at his retreating back. I know he heard me. I was a cheerleader a long time ago. My voice carries.
I'll blame it on the early hour and my brain still waking up. Or perhaps he just got what I've been holding back from other dumb a**es. Whatever it was, I'm not going to lie: it felt good to voice my annoyance instead of just turning the other cheek.
No, I'm not going to make a habit of going around and calling people who squish themselves as far up against a building wall as they can when I walk by dumb a**es or the people who cut in front of me in line. As I said above, getting angry about every jerk that crosses your path just isn't worth it, but sometimes just sometimes, it's appropriate to set the record straight and call it the way it is.
So, although I will continue to fortify my brain/mouth filter, I know that there will be times when it will fail. Here's to hoping that when it does, I'm not the one looking like the dumb a*s.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Little Miss Lamp Shade Head
That's right.
She's not a princess anymore. Or rather, she's royalty with a different kind of head wear.
Hermione is wearing the cone of shame.
Yesterday we brought her to the vet. A new vet I might add, who was very good and actually has emergency appointments available. Who would have thought?!
It was so strange because it seemed like she was healing, but all of a sudden around 5 last evening, a check of her bum made us hustle to the vet clinic.
Since realising last Wednesday that Hermione's anal gland had ruptured Mr. K and I have been doing a twice daily, sometimes three times daily, routine of cleaning her anal glands and putting anti-biotic ointment on the area. She seemed to be getting better. Her energy was returning, her bum was wagging and her appetite had come back in full force. A check of the area Sunday evening put her in the clear. It looked good. However, last night I had a funny feeling and asked someone to look at it again.
Hermione had seemed fine earlier in the day and even when I had the funny feeling, she seemed pretty much herself; except that she was lying much closer to me than normal. You try not to read into these things. Anything could cause behaviour changes in your animals and since they can't tell you what's going on, you could drive yourself mad trying to interpret their every change. However, her body felt warm. Granted, it was a warm day and the house was pretty warm, but knowing that she was just barely out of the woods, I had her looked at.
Good thing I did because the area that had been free of redness and clean the night before was inflamed with one side of the gland appearing to be entirely red and hard and the other being covered with a clear film. It was apparently also bulbous. This was cause for alarm. We had been battling with this thing for over a week. It was time to go to the vet, and as I said above, a different one than our original one.
I called the vet and told them we'd be in very quickly. They are within walking distance and we arrived within 30 minutes of me calling. Hermione walked the whole way and was even excited about being out and about. It was a good thing that she was showing visible symptoms because judging by how she pranced along, you'd never know that she was fighting an infection.
The vet was a bit busy when we arrived, but Hermione was quickly weighed and then whisked off to have her bum looked after. Basically, they had to lance the area, flush it and then she'd be good to go. We warned the vet that Hermione was a drama queen, but not a biter. Strangely enough, Hermione didn't complain once. They gave her an anti-biotic injection that sits under the skin for two weeks and some pain killers. We were given some pain killers for home and instructed to give her one a day until they were gone. The vet said it was good we had brought her in because her temperature was slightly higher than normal. Even now I think her temperature is a bit high, but I think it's because the medicine is doing its job and she's fighting off the foreign bodies invading her little fuzziness.
On top of the pain killers we were also given a "cone of shame" for her to wear. She's a bit obsessive and keeping her from licking/chewing at the area has been difficult. With the collar though, she's not able to get to it at all. I do have to take it off of her when taking her out for bathroom breaks because she refuses to walk around with it on. She's such a particular little thing. At least she's getting rest since she refuses to go anywhere with the collar on. I have to be really vigilant when I take it off for bathroom breaks because she instantly attacks her butt.
So, Hermione's battle with problematic anal glands continues, but with the assistance of some strong drugs she should be back to normal soon. The vet said that the glands may be problematic for her for the rest of her life, but then again maybe not. If they continue to cause her issues, we may explore the option of having her anal glands removed. It's a risky surgery so there are a lot of things to consider. I had Jetta's glands removed in the first year of us working together. I didn't know then what I do now about diet, but you never know what will work. I thought Hermione's diet was suiting her and maybe it is. These glands can be tricky little things that really serve no purpose for the domesticated dog.
For now, I'll continue to feed Hermione her pureed pumpkin and blueberries and hope that she recovers quickly so that she can take the ridiculous collar off sooner rather than later.
Poor Little Miss Lamp Shade Head.
She's not a princess anymore. Or rather, she's royalty with a different kind of head wear.
Hermione is wearing the cone of shame.
Yesterday we brought her to the vet. A new vet I might add, who was very good and actually has emergency appointments available. Who would have thought?!
It was so strange because it seemed like she was healing, but all of a sudden around 5 last evening, a check of her bum made us hustle to the vet clinic.
Since realising last Wednesday that Hermione's anal gland had ruptured Mr. K and I have been doing a twice daily, sometimes three times daily, routine of cleaning her anal glands and putting anti-biotic ointment on the area. She seemed to be getting better. Her energy was returning, her bum was wagging and her appetite had come back in full force. A check of the area Sunday evening put her in the clear. It looked good. However, last night I had a funny feeling and asked someone to look at it again.
Hermione had seemed fine earlier in the day and even when I had the funny feeling, she seemed pretty much herself; except that she was lying much closer to me than normal. You try not to read into these things. Anything could cause behaviour changes in your animals and since they can't tell you what's going on, you could drive yourself mad trying to interpret their every change. However, her body felt warm. Granted, it was a warm day and the house was pretty warm, but knowing that she was just barely out of the woods, I had her looked at.
Good thing I did because the area that had been free of redness and clean the night before was inflamed with one side of the gland appearing to be entirely red and hard and the other being covered with a clear film. It was apparently also bulbous. This was cause for alarm. We had been battling with this thing for over a week. It was time to go to the vet, and as I said above, a different one than our original one.
I called the vet and told them we'd be in very quickly. They are within walking distance and we arrived within 30 minutes of me calling. Hermione walked the whole way and was even excited about being out and about. It was a good thing that she was showing visible symptoms because judging by how she pranced along, you'd never know that she was fighting an infection.
The vet was a bit busy when we arrived, but Hermione was quickly weighed and then whisked off to have her bum looked after. Basically, they had to lance the area, flush it and then she'd be good to go. We warned the vet that Hermione was a drama queen, but not a biter. Strangely enough, Hermione didn't complain once. They gave her an anti-biotic injection that sits under the skin for two weeks and some pain killers. We were given some pain killers for home and instructed to give her one a day until they were gone. The vet said it was good we had brought her in because her temperature was slightly higher than normal. Even now I think her temperature is a bit high, but I think it's because the medicine is doing its job and she's fighting off the foreign bodies invading her little fuzziness.
On top of the pain killers we were also given a "cone of shame" for her to wear. She's a bit obsessive and keeping her from licking/chewing at the area has been difficult. With the collar though, she's not able to get to it at all. I do have to take it off of her when taking her out for bathroom breaks because she refuses to walk around with it on. She's such a particular little thing. At least she's getting rest since she refuses to go anywhere with the collar on. I have to be really vigilant when I take it off for bathroom breaks because she instantly attacks her butt.
So, Hermione's battle with problematic anal glands continues, but with the assistance of some strong drugs she should be back to normal soon. The vet said that the glands may be problematic for her for the rest of her life, but then again maybe not. If they continue to cause her issues, we may explore the option of having her anal glands removed. It's a risky surgery so there are a lot of things to consider. I had Jetta's glands removed in the first year of us working together. I didn't know then what I do now about diet, but you never know what will work. I thought Hermione's diet was suiting her and maybe it is. These glands can be tricky little things that really serve no purpose for the domesticated dog.
For now, I'll continue to feed Hermione her pureed pumpkin and blueberries and hope that she recovers quickly so that she can take the ridiculous collar off sooner rather than later.
Poor Little Miss Lamp Shade Head.
Thursday, August 07, 2014
A Hermione Update
So, you know how I said Hermione seemed to be on the mends? Well, Tuesday was a bit of a rough day. Not "Oh, we need to go the vet right now!", but more like "things aren't getting. better..a bit worse and I'm worried."
Tuesday Hermione refused to eat any dog food at all. By this point we had figured out that it wasn't whatever stung her, but rather something was wrong with her bum. So, I called Lindsay over to see if she could help me express Hermione's anal glands.
Anal glands are small glands near the dog's poop spot at about 4 and 8 on a clock's face. They can potentially become too full and infected if a dog isn't having regular poops. I was convinced that it was her glands.
Lindsay wasn't able to come until Wednesday because she was working. So, I spent much of Tuesday fussing and worrying. Hermione didn't want to have anything to do with food or water and that was freaking me out. However, she would allow me to spoon frozen blueberries into her mouth and she'd eat them. If I balled pureed pumpkin up small enough and dropped it into her mouth, she'd swallow it. I even made her some chicken broth which she drank some of.
That said, her heart rate was normal and she didn't have a fever. She was also going out to the bathroom and walking around if I took her out on leash.
I had put her flea stuff on the day before which never reacts well with her. In the hopes of making things easier for her system, I gave her a bath, washing away the flea medication. I also took the opportunity to trim the feathers away from her bum and feel her whole body all over. She's so quite furry, so feeling her structure is easier when her fur is wet. I didn't feel anything abnormal.
My parents stopped by that night to see her. Dad had dropped off the pureed pumpkin for me earlier in the day. Hermione didn't even get off the chair or wag her tail. Mom picked her up and at one point accidentally squished her bum. Hermione yelped. Mom also looked at her butt and said it was red and irritated.
I was further convinced it was anal glands.
Wednesday came and she seemed a bit perkier. She still didn't want dog food, but would let me shove blueberries into her mouth as well as the pumpkin. She wasn't too happy about it, but as long as she was swallowing I kept feeding it to her. I usually just gave her little bits at a time about every three hours or so. She was still going out to the bathroom. So, that was encouraging.
Lindsay arrived Wednesday afternoon and we spirited Hermione off to the bath tub to express her glands. Hermione yelped which we thought might happen, but upon closer inspection, Lindsay realised her bum didn't look right. There seemed to be a hole of sorts near her poop hole.
Now, it was time for the vet.
As I called the vet, we cleaned Hermione's bum with some therapeutic grade witch hazel. I think it stung a bit, but that just meant it was cleaning.
My first call to the vet sent me directly to voice mail. I left a message. They still haven't returned my call.
Mr. K had started looking stuff up on the internet because that is what he does. He had Lindsay describe what it looked like and when he found something he thought to be right, he showed her.
Turns out he diagnosed her.
While they were researching, Lindsay had called the vet on her cell phone and they answered. I talked to them and explained. They told me that they didn't have any appointments until Friday so I would have to bring her in for the day and they would call me once the vet finally got to her. Then, they would let me know how much everything would cost and what our plan of action was.
Um, how about no?
Don't you have emergency appointments?!!
What vet doesn't have emergency appointments?
Especially a vet office that has over ten vets working there plus their dozen or so vet Techs. I was furious.
According to the stuff Mr. K found, Hermione had blown out one of her anal glands. The concern with this, of course, is infection. However, other than giving her anti-biotics, there isn't anything vets can do for her; unless hers was so bad and she needed surgery. Hers wasn't that bad.
The instructions we found told us to keep it clean which we've done with the witch hazel and to keep her from licking. That's been the fun part. I can't tell you how many different types of doggie diapers we've made in the last few days. She's so small that she can get out of everything. Mom and I even bought her a baby diaper shirt, but it was just a tad too small and wasn't wide enough to cover her bum. She's currently wearing one of my t-shirts with her head poking through the sleeve. She's not too happy, but it works. We are also to put anti-biotic ointment on her which we have also been doing.
Since yesterday she's eaten two full meals and drank her fill of water. She even hopped around when I let her out of her crate this morning. Yesterday she wagged her tail, and bum, when Mom came over. Just that little bit of ointment and cleansing has made a huge difference.
I'm still feeding her pumpkin to keep her poop soft so that she doesn't strain while going. We think that is how she ruptured the gland in the first place. It will take some time for her to heal fully, but she is definitely on the mends. We are just paying very close attention to ensure there aren't any signs of infection. If anything crops up that is worrying, we'll be going to the vet; just not that one. Her bum apparently looks less irritated today than yesterday and it looks like it's healing. So, we'll just have to keep on it. Thankfully, she's not a labrador and is being quiet and resting. The dress-like t-shirt may be helping with that.
So, it was a bit stressful the last couple of days, but I think she's getting better. Fingers crossed.
My poor little princess.
Tuesday Hermione refused to eat any dog food at all. By this point we had figured out that it wasn't whatever stung her, but rather something was wrong with her bum. So, I called Lindsay over to see if she could help me express Hermione's anal glands.
Anal glands are small glands near the dog's poop spot at about 4 and 8 on a clock's face. They can potentially become too full and infected if a dog isn't having regular poops. I was convinced that it was her glands.
Lindsay wasn't able to come until Wednesday because she was working. So, I spent much of Tuesday fussing and worrying. Hermione didn't want to have anything to do with food or water and that was freaking me out. However, she would allow me to spoon frozen blueberries into her mouth and she'd eat them. If I balled pureed pumpkin up small enough and dropped it into her mouth, she'd swallow it. I even made her some chicken broth which she drank some of.
That said, her heart rate was normal and she didn't have a fever. She was also going out to the bathroom and walking around if I took her out on leash.
I had put her flea stuff on the day before which never reacts well with her. In the hopes of making things easier for her system, I gave her a bath, washing away the flea medication. I also took the opportunity to trim the feathers away from her bum and feel her whole body all over. She's so quite furry, so feeling her structure is easier when her fur is wet. I didn't feel anything abnormal.
My parents stopped by that night to see her. Dad had dropped off the pureed pumpkin for me earlier in the day. Hermione didn't even get off the chair or wag her tail. Mom picked her up and at one point accidentally squished her bum. Hermione yelped. Mom also looked at her butt and said it was red and irritated.
I was further convinced it was anal glands.
Wednesday came and she seemed a bit perkier. She still didn't want dog food, but would let me shove blueberries into her mouth as well as the pumpkin. She wasn't too happy about it, but as long as she was swallowing I kept feeding it to her. I usually just gave her little bits at a time about every three hours or so. She was still going out to the bathroom. So, that was encouraging.
Lindsay arrived Wednesday afternoon and we spirited Hermione off to the bath tub to express her glands. Hermione yelped which we thought might happen, but upon closer inspection, Lindsay realised her bum didn't look right. There seemed to be a hole of sorts near her poop hole.
Now, it was time for the vet.
As I called the vet, we cleaned Hermione's bum with some therapeutic grade witch hazel. I think it stung a bit, but that just meant it was cleaning.
My first call to the vet sent me directly to voice mail. I left a message. They still haven't returned my call.
Mr. K had started looking stuff up on the internet because that is what he does. He had Lindsay describe what it looked like and when he found something he thought to be right, he showed her.
Turns out he diagnosed her.
While they were researching, Lindsay had called the vet on her cell phone and they answered. I talked to them and explained. They told me that they didn't have any appointments until Friday so I would have to bring her in for the day and they would call me once the vet finally got to her. Then, they would let me know how much everything would cost and what our plan of action was.
Um, how about no?
Don't you have emergency appointments?!!
What vet doesn't have emergency appointments?
Especially a vet office that has over ten vets working there plus their dozen or so vet Techs. I was furious.
According to the stuff Mr. K found, Hermione had blown out one of her anal glands. The concern with this, of course, is infection. However, other than giving her anti-biotics, there isn't anything vets can do for her; unless hers was so bad and she needed surgery. Hers wasn't that bad.
The instructions we found told us to keep it clean which we've done with the witch hazel and to keep her from licking. That's been the fun part. I can't tell you how many different types of doggie diapers we've made in the last few days. She's so small that she can get out of everything. Mom and I even bought her a baby diaper shirt, but it was just a tad too small and wasn't wide enough to cover her bum. She's currently wearing one of my t-shirts with her head poking through the sleeve. She's not too happy, but it works. We are also to put anti-biotic ointment on her which we have also been doing.
Since yesterday she's eaten two full meals and drank her fill of water. She even hopped around when I let her out of her crate this morning. Yesterday she wagged her tail, and bum, when Mom came over. Just that little bit of ointment and cleansing has made a huge difference.
I'm still feeding her pumpkin to keep her poop soft so that she doesn't strain while going. We think that is how she ruptured the gland in the first place. It will take some time for her to heal fully, but she is definitely on the mends. We are just paying very close attention to ensure there aren't any signs of infection. If anything crops up that is worrying, we'll be going to the vet; just not that one. Her bum apparently looks less irritated today than yesterday and it looks like it's healing. So, we'll just have to keep on it. Thankfully, she's not a labrador and is being quiet and resting. The dress-like t-shirt may be helping with that.
So, it was a bit stressful the last couple of days, but I think she's getting better. Fingers crossed.
My poor little princess.
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