Ouch.

Tags

coworkers, dog behaviour, dog fights, dogs, veterinary medicine, vets, work

I’ve always told people that dog fights rarely involve serious injury – most of them are just noise and posturing and some wrestling. 

I had to remind myself of that the other day when a dog, who looked like a cross between the Mastiff from The Sandlot and Cthulu, picked up my Beloved Dog and dangled him in the air by his neck.

There’s a shut-down school near where I live, and all the dog owners in the area use the old field by the playground as an informal off-leash park.

I like to take Beloved Dog and little Owl out there after work, it if isn’t dark by the time we get home.

There’s often another dog or two around, but it’s a big field so there usually isn’t a lot of interaction. Some bum-sniffing, posturing, and that’s it.

This massive dog was retrieving a ball the size of a beach ball for its owner, and the dogs mostly ignored each other until a toss of the huge ball took the dog near Beloved Dog.

Now, Beloved Dog has a bit of a small man complex around big male dogs, but he’s usually quite good with girls, and this dog, while humongous, was female. So all he did was walk up to her daintily, tail in the air, and politely stick his nose in her taint.

The dog, who was probably named Cerberus or something, whirled around, grabbed him by the neck, and hoisted him up in the air while he screamed bloody murder. For once, he was involved in a fight that wasn’t his fault.

I was a good thirty feet away and I didn’t react immediately. I was partially surprised because big dogs are usually less aggressive, not more, because when you weigh over 100 pounds, how threatened can you be by… well, anything?

Besides, like I said, most dog fights are a whole lot of nothing and getting excited just makes things worse. But Cerberus didn’t let go, and the owner began to panic and try to pry her jaws open and she wouldn’t let go.

I started to think about the exceptions to my dog-fights-don’t-cause-damage claim, like someone I know whose small puppy was killed at a dog park. From all accounts it sounded more like a mistaken-prey situation than a real dog fight; the killer dog treated the poor puppy like a squirrel or rabbit.

I also know an ex-service dog who tried to RETRIEVE someone’s sheltie, with disastrous results.

My sheltie was still dangling. Still screaming.

I started to run.

You Know You’re Square When You Need Urban Dictionary to Help You With Wrong Numbers

In Which My Shrink Wants To Know What Happens Next

I finally got to see my shrink on Monday.

Ever since I started this job I have been mentally telling her about everything that has been going on. It was good to finally be able to ACTUALLY tell her – for some reason it had a tattling quality. I felt like I was running to the teacher and pointing a finger:

“THEY’RE making me ANXIOUS!”

But then I felt a bit let-down after the session. Because, really, other than tut, look appropriately shocked in the right places, and assure me that yes, that sort of thing really IS out of line and no, I shouldn’t just put up with that… what can she really do?

Was I hoping that she’d write me some kind of doctor’s note saying “Carol is too anxious to work here, so please let her stay home and write and play with her baby”?

Actually, the session was more upbeat than it would have been a couple of weeks ago. Partially because I am coming to realize that while this job has certainly sent my anxiety sky rocketing, my mood is holding fairly stable: I’m not depressed. I’m not hopeless. I’m not miserable.

I’m tired. I’m stressed. I’m UNHAPPY. I want to stay home in my safe little hamster cage, and I want to have time to blog again, and I want to catch up on the HUNDREDS of items in my Google Reader. I miss writing, and the internet in general. I don’t feel like we have any more money than we did before I started working, which makes me feel like I am putting myself through this for no point – why am I suffering through all this and yet we still can’t afford a new car seat for Owl? (But actually, it’s just that PH is trying to clear the backlog of non-saving, non-debt paying from my year on mat leave, and we WILL buy a new car seat as soon as we find a good deal on one that doesn’t look like it will crumple the second someone bumps it).

But… I am not depressed. I have hope that things will get better. And actually, on Saturday I was told that the Cranky Vet is leaving (and I’m vaguely worried that he quit because he was so sick of putting up with my idiocy/incompetence). So I only have another month of him. Hurray!

So that took a bit of the wind out of my sails when whining to my shrink about this guy. Ultimately, she couldn’t do much other than urge me to increase my Wellbutrin if I felt I needed to, and book another appointment for me for December.

“I was thinking today would be our last appointment,” she said, “you were so sure you’d found a nice vet and a nearby job and I thought you’d have settled in and be doing fine… but now I think I want to see you again, to make sure this work stuff gets sorted out.”

I get the feeling that I’m a novella she is reading, and she was hoping for a happy ending, only to end on another cliff hanger… 

Dear RIM: If a Safe Driving App Gets My Husband In A Car Crash, That’ll Be Real Irony, Not The Fake Alanis Kind.

Tags

apps, Blackberry, drivesafe.ly, RIM, technology

Now, as you all know, RIM honoured the death of Steve Jobs with a twelve hour silence.

As a thank you to their customers for their forebearance, they are offering some free apps.

So Perfect Husband happily downloaded an app called DriveSafe.ly and was itching to try it out.

“Send me a text message!” Perfect Husband ordered me as I got into the car with him the other day.

I was confused. We text all day long, but texting while together crosses into the Disgusting Couple zone.

“Uh… why?”

“Just send me a text.”

So I wrote something along the lines of “LOL UR Hawt.” (Normally, we are fully-and-correctly-spelled-with-appropriate-use-of-semicolons sort of texters, so I felt this would be sufficient punishment).

Then I heard a bing from his Blackberry.

And we drove in silence for a while.

“Hmm,” said PH. “Send me another.”

So I did. There was a second bing, and then a voice that sounded like an unholy mating between Stephen Hawking and Satan ponderously announced:

“MESSAGE FROM… CAROL: Why you no reply?”. 

“Reply,” said PH.

“SPEAK YOUR MESSAGE” said DriveSafe.ly

“I am replying to you,” said PH.

My phone binged.

Reply to ear

I sent a message back.

“MESSAGE FROM… CAROL: WHO IS EAR? REPLY TO ME!”

“Reply,” said PH.

“SPEAK YOUR MESSAGE” said DriveSafe.ly

“I’m trying to!”

My phone binged.

I’m trying two

I sent another message back.

“MESSAGE FROM… CAROL: TWO? BUT THERE IS ONLY ONE OF ME.”

“Reply,” said PH.

…

“REPLY!” said PH.

“SPEAK YOUR MESSAGE” said DriveSafe.ly

“Homophones are not this program’s friend,” said PH.

My phone binged.

haha phone is on her not this program is friend

I sent another message.

The Blackberry binged.

DriveSafe.ly made no comment.

I sent another. The Blackberry binged. DriveSafe.ly still said nothing.

“Send message!” said PH.

Nothing.

“REPLY” said PH.

Nothing.

We stopped at a red light and he fiddled with his phone while I watched the light anxiously.  

I sent another message.

Nothing.

At the next red light he rebooted his Blackberry and made sure DriveSafe.ly was back on. I sent another message, which still did not provoke a response from RIM’s free gift, which normally retails for like 20 bucks.

“Answer!’ PH ordered.

No response.

“Reply! Send Message! STOP SUCKING SO MUCH.”

DriveSafe.ly had nothing to say to this.

PH turned it off and turned it back on again. He rebooted his phone again. I sent another message.

Nothing happened.

“Answer!”

No response.

“I’m so glad I didn’t pay MONEY for you! Answer! Reply! Send!”

DriveSafe.ly felt no need to react.

“SEND!”

Silence.

“F*** A DEAD MONKEY!!”

I have to say, I don’t think he was driving more safe.ly.

I Don’t Blame PH For Being Offended

BUT DADS ARE DEAD TO US, apparently.

Speech, Stress and Wistful Sighing – Same Old, Same Old.

I wish I had new and exciting things to tell you, but I feel like all of my news is the same old stuff, rehashed:

• Owl’s walking is getting better all the time. I’m going to put together a video for it – was going to do it tonight, in fact – but the sound on our computer has come unplugged somehow, which means that I can neither mash together one of my music mixes nor upload a straight piece of video, which could be filled with Owl’s REAL NAME.

• Work is still insanely stressful. On Saturday the vet accidentally vaccinated a dog for rabies who had just received a rabies vaccine LAST month… and then raked me over the coals for it. It wasn’t until I said “I’m SORRY, OKAY?” that he shut up. He was civil for the rest of the day, but for the life of me I could not figure out how his mistake was in any way my fault, except that I simply failed to catch his mistake in time.

• Owl is beginning to say “ma? Ma? Mama?” when pulling at my shirt and signing for milk. Is this the beginning of speech, or is it just like when he points at his father and says “dada?” and then as we congratulate him, points at his own foot and says “dada”?

• I am definitely starting a dog training business with my friend, but it’s slow going. She has anxiety issues of her own and, like me, doesn’t really want to work too hard or be under too much pressure and tends to freeze in the face of all the impending red tape involved in getting this going. We’re both full of ideas, though, and I registered the domain and started a website this weekend out of sheer itchiness to DO SOMETHING.

• The Owl’s sleep is totally back to square one, ending up in bed with me every night and kicking his father until PH vacates the bed for the couch. He still has premolars coming in and every time we decide to put our foot down and go back to the Old Rules, he coughs pathetically and ends up in bed blissfully snuggled up next to me.

• I miss blogging. Like, a lot. My head and my drafts folder is full of posts that I simply don’t have the time or the energy to write and refine. Titles include but are not limited to: Round 4: Rowling vs Meyer, Confidence, Facebook, Big Bang Theory, Baby Size, Trebek vs Sajak, Yayo, Model/Rival, and Alexander McCall Smith.

• I miss my old life. I do. I should be all feminist and wanting to work but I just honestly want to stay in my safe little house with my baby and blog and have that be my life. Because I’m lazy. And selfish.

I’ll try to be more amusing soon. I PROMISE.

Here, have a picture of an Owl Babby.

Breakfast of champions

The Shrinking Bear

Tags

babies, photos, teddy bears

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Friday Update Filled With Pus And Drunken Owls

1. Owl’s walking ability is increasing by leaps and bounds (or, more accurately, by thumps and wobbles) on a daily basis. From his first steps on Thanksgiving Sunday, he can now drunken-master stagger (giggling madly) across an entire room before falling onto his face or throwing himself into out waiting arms with the mad self-confidence of a crowd-surfer.

2. At daycare he learned where his nose was, and how to kick a ball. I feel like a useless mother. I’ve been trying to teach him where his nose is since HE WAS BORN. I think it’s a result of the model/rival technique used by Irene Pepperberg of Alex the Parrot, but that’s another post.

3. The Inexplicably Loved Cat knocked the Thanksgiving ham bone down to the Beloved Dog, who had a feast. He was peeing massive amounts the next day, which didn’t surprise us because PH did the same thing after eating that massively salty ham.

But a routine just-to-check test at work showed blood in Beloved Dog’s urine, and small amounts of bacteria. There were no crystals, though. I have no idea if these two things are related, but I put him on antibiotics just to be sure.

4. A Dachschund who has ALL the infection (read: multiple bulging, pus-filled abscesses that keep sprouting all over her face despite a bunch of dental extractions and a full course of antibiotics) bit me on the nail bed of my right thumb yesterday and it was surprisingly painful. I never realized how much I use my right thumb, despite being left handed. I now find it excrutiating to:

• Turn the ignition of my car
• Change gears
• Open the baby gate while holding Owl.
• Pick Owl up
• Turn the pages of my book

5. I haven’t had time to catch up on my blogging, or basically do anything other than eat and sleep and watch tv.

So. How’s YOUR week been?

Thankful, Hopeful, Rageful, er, I mean, just FULL

So, after working every Saturday but one since I began my job on Aug 20th, I emailed the manager (boss’s wife who dislikes my “inconvenient” hours) and asked her if maybe I could have a Saturday or two off in the near future.

That was Wednesday or Thursday.

She emailed back last night.

The answer was basically, “no” and that it was “impossible” due to the short-staffed situation. She went on to say that I could approach the tech who works at the other (read: nearby) clinic about switching a shift, but that the schedule is and will remain unchanged unless they hire another employee.

Leaving aside the fact that since switching a shift is “possible” then clearly SCHEDULING me with a Saturday must be possible, I’m feeling very frustrated.

I try to remember that they ARE short staffed, and that as the newbie, I am lowest on the hierarchy.

But dang – I wanted a job nearby, with a good staff atmosphere and early shifts, and somehow I ended up with none of that.

But it is Thanksgiving, and I want to be grateful.

So here’s what I am grateful for:

My son, who is frigging adorable and hilarious

My husband, who loves me and makes me laugh

My friends and commenters, who try to make me feel valuable (they don’t usually succeed but I appreciate the effort)

My family back home

My daycare lady

My dog and cat

Books

Diet Pepsi

Mashed Potatoes with gravy

Pumpkin Pie

…yup, that about covers it.

A friend of mine from my old job are talking about teaming up and starting a dog training business. Do you know dog trainers charge, like, 70 bucks an hour? Hell, on that income I could work 10 hours a week and be able to QUIT my current job.

My friend had a dog training business a few years ago (which she shut down to work for the service dog school where we met) and she said she was surprised at the demand.

So I’m not only grateful, I’m HOPEFUL.

..

…

AND IMPATIENT.

Things Carol Thinks When Sleep Deprived

Tags

English, grammar, musings, thoughts, words

…Wait. Is the word “adjective” a noun?