Gonzo and Emma are gone

I lost Emma in January, and I lost my dearest puppy boy in March-

My world got dark and sad without my sunshine...but then I saw Zoe, a mixed breed Jack Russell - Pug mix on the Humane Society Website, and she needed me as much as I needed her.

Here's my little feisty firecracker:

Does she look like anyone you know? ;) 

So long, and thanks for all the fish.

Wow, it's been a long time...did you miss me?

There's so much that has happened since August 29th, 2010 that I can't even begin to tell you it all-but I'ma gonna try!

First and foremost: Gonzo is still with us, alive, healthy, and with a wiggly butt. He never had a relapse, (knock wood), and he's as active as he ever was. It's just Gonzo and me now, and Emma, the cat, makes regular appearances at mealtime, but we're all doing really quite well.

Working too much and playing too little has made this Jill a dull girl. But that's changing, too.

Good boy, Gonzo; let's snuggle up, cuddle pup. It's cold out there today.


More to come (really, I promise...), so come back if you're interested.

The best day ever (not hardly...)

Well, to say it's been awhile is beyond obvious, but I've been working like a crazy person lately. I've gone from no job, to a extremely part time job, to 1 full time, 1 part time, to working OT at the full and every weekend at the part. The only day I have off (other than today) between now and October is Labor Day (I can't be the only one who sees the humor in that.) In this economy, I know that I am truly blessed to have this kind of opportunity. Having been taught that one makes hay while the sun shines, I work as much as possible now that it's high noon in the Sahara.
So anyway, back to the best day ever. Anyone who has read this blog before might recall that our boy was ridiculously active until he started showing the symptoms of IMHA. I am ecstatic to report (pleased just doesn't cover it) that our boy is back to his pre-disease activity level, although looking at him now, one wouldn't see it. He's asleep under the dining room table. He does his Lipizzaner horse impersonation when my husband comes home, and runs around at top speed with Crazy Monkey, playing "keep-away," not that anyone would want to touch Crazy Monkey. He's usually soggy and crunchy at the same time, the result of over-grooming by Gonzo. He plays as hard as a puppy would, ignoring the grey that has appeared in his muzzle over the last few months. Our boy is back.
However, we can't board him anymore, due to the stresses to the immune system that all the immunizations necessary would cause, which limits the choices for getaways. The joy that is Craigslist has offered up a great option: pet friendly cabin/cottage rentals. Last weekend, we rented a wonderfully quaint one bedroom cottage on the shore of a lake in the Poconos. Deliciously tacky with the 1970's camp decor, the wagon wheel hanging from the ceiling made us giggle, but the real deer head mounted on the wall made me cringe. All in all, it was just what we needed: a break from the city and our everyday life.
Being in the Poconos in late summer, I came up with an idea. We should go blueberry picking. I didn't think of this idea until Gonzo was already in the car with us, tooling around the countryside. Not sure if the blueberry farm proprietors would go for a dog wandering around with us, we set off to the office. Not a problem! Alright, so we head into the fields with our buckets and our boy. Well, it wasn't long until we realized that Gonzo's idea of fun was not "walk 3 feet, sit for 2 minutes, walk another 3 feet, sit for 3 minutes..." Our boy wanted to run around, see everything in the field, roll in that interesting smelly thing he found, and generally, have a dog day of summer. He was so frustrated with us that we only picked about a quart and an half before leaving. Poor Gonzo! Definitely not the best day ever.
We picked enough so that I can make my world famous* blueberry cake, which is essentially white cake baked with blueberry pie filling under it, served upside down. The blueberries just drip down over the cake, covering it in purpley goodness. One could cheat and use canned filling and boxed mix, but it's best when made from scratch.
Well, I'm glad to report that all of our boy's trials and tribulations seem to be behind us, and now his biggest problem seems to be getting us to believe that he hasn't eaten already, and needs to be fed (again.) Such a funny boy.

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

*not necessarily true, or even likely to be true

Anyone still there? Other than our boy, I mean?

Well, it has been a long hard haul, and he's not completely in the clear, but our boy is being weaned off his third med since he was diagnosed. He'll just be on one and the antacids he takes to help with the nausea. Which work well, mostly. Can't imagine the amount of barf I would have to clean up if our boy didn't take them! Not that I'm complaining, but I just wish he wouldn't hide to get sick. Makes proactive paper towel placement that much harder, y'know? I also can't wait to cut back on the second job now that the cost of his care is going down. 14 days of work in a row stinks out loud.

Anyway, he's on weight management dog food as well, which as my husband noticed, has our boy leaving corncobs in the backyard. And it makes him think he's starving. So we know have to make sure that our pantry door is closed, or there's no telling what our boy will drag out. I kid you not, he tore apart a box of potato flakes last week like it was manna from heaven. But he'll slink around looking so pathetic after he's caught that I forgive him instantly, but send him to doggie jail (bed) anyway, knowing he'll do it again as soon as he has the chance.

Good Boy, Gonzo. You know whatever you do, your peeps will love you, right?

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Wow, it's been a long time

...but can't say that I having been busy. Mostly busy just being grateful that our boy's still with us, having fun and making us laugh. He seems to be back to better than ever, with more energy than I can remember him having for awhile. The vet seems to feel that he was tolerating his illness well, and that why we never noticed until it was ...well, you know, almost too late. (Hate to even think of it, even now.)

Our boy just charmed the socks off of the staff at the pet hospital and I can't get over how they fawn over him on his checkups. It seems that he gets more attention than the other animals. Hope the other pups aren't jealous!

Right now, his levels are back to an acceptable range and his care has been transferred back to his primary vet, so we are cautiously hopeful.

As for his personality, well, it's still intact. He seems to know that he won't get scolded for being a "bad doggy" so he's acting up a little, sneaking unattended food and not listening to us when he'd rather not. I'll take it, I'll take it all. You cannot believe how devastating it is for a vet to tell you that it's "time to make the decision," unless you have been there. I mean, I know we will outlive him (statisically, it's probable; I don't have any guarantee) but I was not ready. I have come to better grips with it now, but not that day, not that week.

Good Boy, Gonzo. Where's your elephant? Let's play.

Thank God, there's more to come, so come back if you're interested

Gonzo's Home!

Our boy is home, but far from out of the woods. He has IMHA, an auto-immune disease, and it was discovered that he has diabetes as well. The bill was beyond belief, but as I have said a number of times since we agreed to treatment (was there even an option?) that if someone said,"Would you pay (insert amount of vet bill here*) to spend two more weeks with Gonzo?" I would have said yes.

Good boy, Gonzo. You've charmed the nurses, vet techs, and internists as well as your doctor, now you just rest and get better.

*I can't bring myself to type the amount in; I think I'm still in shock!


More to come, and I am so glad.

Our boy needs your prayers

Gonzo has been diagnosed with IMHA and is very sick. It's a disease that causes antibodies to attack the red blood cells in our boy's blood.

Pray to your Higher Power (mine is God) that our boy continues to respond to and hold his own with treatment. I am hoping for a miracle, but realize that it's a long road, full of potiential problems.

The vet left a wonderful message about how Gonzo is doing, that he's holding his blood counts, and that the staff loves him, and how the nurses are playing with and petting him...it's things like that that make it okay that our boy isn't here with us. I haven't been able to see him since we admitted him on Tuesday morning and I miss him. The vet thinks if he remains stable, we could visit him on New Year's.

Good boy, Gonzo. You just play with the nice girls at the hospital and get better, okay?

I do so hope that there's more to come.

Do wet buffalo smell like wet dogs?

So, here's more about that buffalo farm that was on the route I used to drive while delivering bread.
Every day I would drive by this kind of dilapidated, rundown old farm. One day, seemingly out of the blue, there were buffalo standing in one of the fields. After recovering from my mind being blown by a herd of buffalo in Pennsylvania, I started the "Way to go, buffalo!" that I would repeat every thing I passed the field. It was actually a thing I would look sort of forward to, this oddity in the modern world; a herd of buffalo roaming in PA , like they used to roam everywhere in the wild west (or at least in the movies I've seen.)
One day, it was raining all day, and when I passed the field, the buffalo weren't out grazing as they usually would be. I thought, "Well, maybe, the farmer guy didn't let the buffalo out because if wet dogs smell bad, I can't imagine what a wet buffalo would smell like!" (Ah, naivete; I miss ya.) The next day, it was clearer, but still no buffalo in the field. The third day, when I saw that there were still no buffalo, I gasped, and said, "Ohhh! He's a bad, BAD, man!" as I realized the point of buffalo farms.
I won't eat buffalo burgers. No how, no way.

Good Boy, Gonzo. I bet you smell better than a wet buffalo.

More to come (just not so often as before), so come back if you're interested.

Driving games

I used to drive a lot. I've been a bread delivery person, a sales rep, and a merchandiser with a service area from South Central PA, Philly and Northern DE. So spending all that time on the road, alone, I started doing stuff to alleviate boredom. You know, the stuff people do to pass the time on the road? Like one of my coworkers said when he and his group see one of those vanity plates with the two sets of initials on them, they come up with the names that would match the initials, starting with Mr. and Mrs. The example he gave was ABC DEC would be "Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy Bartholomew and Dorothy Elizabeth Connor." Probably very fun with kids.

Well, my game isn't so much a game (unless you would consider yelling ,'MOOOOOOOOO!" at cows a game) as it is a time-passer. When I see livestock along the roadside (safely in their fenced fields, I hasten to add, not roadkill), I have a saying for most types I see.

1.) cows- I nod my head and say,"Ladies," in the fashion of a man tipping his hat greeting a group of women.

2.) bulls- I call out,"That's just bull!"

3.) goats- "Hi, kids!"

4.) buffalo*-"Way to go, Buffalo!

5.) sheep- "No flockin' way!"

6.) deer - "Oh, d-d-deer, oh, d-d-deer-deer-deer," in the manner of Winnie the Pooh.

I don't have a saying for horses, as I have a traumatized dislike of them, having been thrown and never getting back on. And they smell bad, like a moldy wet dog.

It's a weird little pasttime, but it helps with the boredom. I find I still do it now, on my hour commute to and from work.

*There was a buffalo farm on my bread route, more on that another time.

Good boy, Gonzo. They're all just funny looking dogs to you, huh?

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

The "I'm Sorry" Video (sad, to say the least)

I was looking for more funny doggie videos on youtube again, but instead I found this. Maybe Gonzo's former owner's "sorry" story is in there somewhere...who knows why anyone would get rid of such a great boy.



Good Boy, Gonzo. We've got you now, and you're home, for good. We're not sorry, either.

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Raccoons!

I was looking on youtube for that video of the raccoon "playing" water sprinkler (it looks like he's playing the harp; it was on America's Funny Videos years and years ago) when I came across these:



Glad to see the little feller got out on his own, but did you catch the casual paw lick at the end: "I meant to do that."

And this one ("I'm not worthy of the ice creams"):



The lady does have a point; wildlife that is fed by humans become dependent on that food source. But give the little guy the ice cream you've been teasing him with, fer cryin' out loud!

Good Boy, Gonzo. No, raccoon aren't really bad, they were just drawn that way.

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

What the ???

I have seen this creature gracing the 'Catch the Keystone' train service billboard on the PA Turnpike on my way to and from work.. It makes me wonder every day as I drive past what this thing is supposed to be. After many miles back and forth, I have come to the conclusion that it's supposed to be a combination of all the male/female oversleeping commuters as it's shaving and putting on makeup as it's driving to work. The title link will show the other "monsters"on the Keystone website one can avoid by taking the train instead of driving: rubberneckers, construction, etc, but this is the one that disturbs me most. Men who wear makeup aren't a problem for me, per se, but I have always been freaked out by those performers whose costumes are half gown, half tuxedo. Probably frightened by one on "The Gong Show" as a kid.
This video is equally freaky for me. (eeeshch!)



Good boy, Gonzo. I'll let you know when it's safe to come out again, m'kay?

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Owowowow. Okay, I feel better no..owowow!

I have a (stupid, stupid, owowow) muscle spasm in my neck. I have started a course of homeopathic remedies and feel a lot better than I did at 3 am when I couldn't figure out how to get out of bed to get the Tiger Balm (stinky stuff, but boy, it makes me feel better!)

I can't imagine it feels any worse than what this guy's going through:



As you can guess, I am anti-shock collar. I wish more people would watch (and appreciate) this video and live with a little barking.

Good Boy, Gonzo. Bark it up, crazy pup!

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Just wow.

This was sent to me by my dad, who passed along that the dancers are deaf. Amazing!



Good boy, Gonzo. Look at all those hands to skritch your belly!

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

So you say you have a lot of photos of your pet?

Not as many as Bodie's people do, I bet. I thought I had too many pictures of our boy, but now I think I need a few more.





Good Boy, Gonzo. Now smile for the camera, hmm?

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Feed Me, Seymour!

A comment made yesterday (Thanks, Christina!) reminded me to tell you this. Our boy had indeed gotten used to the new and improved schedule, with my husband and I leaving about the same time, and my husband getting home about an half an hour after me. (Commutes are brutal sometimes!) Well, my husband's schedule changes every 4 weeks and now he leaves well after me and gets home about 3 1/2 hours after his old schedule.

So now I feed Gonzo about the same time my husband used to feed him on his old schedule, and our boy still does the " I'm-starving-here-please-for-the-love-of Mike-and-gravy-would-you-feed-me?" dance of impatience when my husband gets home. Even after he is reminded that he has indeed been fed, he will not calm down until he is sent to bed (without dinner, in his mind,) then we give him a Better than Ears treat.

Good Boy, Gonzo. When you're calm and sweet, you get the treat. 9See how I made that rhyme?)

More to come so, come back if you're interested.

What a change...

I went from being fully unemployed, to very underemployed, to now. I figured it out: I will be working 19 days straight before my next day off, and I am sooo not complaining, but trying to explain the lack of posting for the past two days.

Gonzo has been taking it like a trooper, adjusting to the new schedule like I was never home all day before, and we even got a change to play around yesterday (well, I was looking for something in the back of the bottom kitchen cabinets, and it looked like playing to him, shh..) Anyway, I hope to adjust that well myself and get back into the swing of things soon.

Random picture from our trip to Gettysburg this summer

Good boy, Gonzo. How did you know that I was looking for Blue Football Fan in the cabinets? Thanks for bringing it over.

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Oops, was that out loud?

Last night, our boy was sitting in his favorite spot; as always, within 2 feet of my husband, right behind his computer chair. My husband and I were talking about some silly nonsense, and Gonzo must have been either bored or frustrated by the lack of attention. All of a sudden, my husband and I hear this bizarre sound coming from our boy's direction. I guess it could best be described as a combination yip-belch-yawn. My husband turned around to look at Gonzo, and you never saw a creature trying harder to look innocent and casual with a worried look in its eyes.
I laughed so hard, and provided the voice-over, "Oh, sorry, was that out loud? So sorry; my apologies; excuse me." And as always, the more I laughed, the happier our boy got, and soon he had forgotten that he had burped a sonic burp, and was running around, looking for the dead duck.

Good Boy, Gonzo. Do you need a Rolaids? (no, I wouldn't give Gonzo a Rolaids, or any other "for people" medicine either.)

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Give 'im the ol' spin move, Spud!

I don't know if it's because it's set to "Yakity Sax" (that song from the chase scenes from Benny Hill) or that the cat looks so confused by the fighting techinique, but I thought this was funny. I can only hope the fun continued down the hall and no lamps were broken.



Good Boy, Gonzo. Next time Emma starts with you, try the ol' blender move, but make sure you cue music first, m'kay?

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Talking dogs?

Now, our boy starts with a sort of "ararar" when he's frustrated, and I tell him,"Use your words..." when he barks, but these pups are far more advanced in their vocabulary.




Good Boy, Gonzo. Maybe it's French, non? Oh, right, it's Pirate.

More to come, so come back if you're interested.