Brave the cold - NOT

• I got all bundled up this morning, but I just could not bring myself to venture outside. Fortunately, the dogs were still tired from yesterday.
• Beau has been a butt lately and Finn has been grumpy about not being able to go outside and roam. Chicken-or-the-egg cat fights going on periodically through the days. Even if Finn is only looking at Beau, Beau screams bloody murder.

Beau is hiding behind the toilet

• Got a little behind in knitting the baby blanket, but I'm caught up now.
• Since I was able to buy more yarn yesterday at JoAnn, I finished weaving the whatever that is on the 24" loom. Still not sure what it will be. I don't like the fringe, so I will probably hem it.
• Felt anxious about group dog training. Took Clio. She settled down pretty quickly, probably because she was tired. Only three other dogs in class, which helped. One was a cross between a Saint Barnard and a poodle - non-shedding and gorgeous! A 7-month old Great Dane was being worked separate from our class - HUGE already!
• It just occurred to me I should have asked the Saint Barnard-poodle's owner if I could have some clippings. The dog's fur had a nice curl to it. And she said it mats, so it may make good yarn.
• Took the "rug" and my woven swatches to weavers guild, for show and tell. We did paper weaving as well, to try out designs. 

More winter advisory weather

This is getting a bit boring for me. You?

• Dog-walking/step-counting: Took the dogs on individual walks, medium length. More snow fell yesterday, enough to hide the ice beneath. Almost fell once. Despite walking nearly every aisle at Costco, my step count is coming up short.
• Dog training: Clio seems totally confused today about all commands. Watson gets it.
• Fiber: The usual 8 rows on the baby blanket. By my estimate, I have 20 more pattern repeats to do, plus the border. That will take 10-14 days. This project is beginning to feel interminable. I finished up swatch #4, so I am free from that self-imposed task.
• Eating: The pot roast is gone. The pears are gone. There were no 5-oz packages of greens at the Co-op today, so I bought baby spinach, which means I also bought mushrooms and feta cheese so I can make omelets.
• Entertainment: Finished In the Watershed and returned it to the library. More Happy Valley - I'm addicted. Could not figure out why one of the second season characters looks so familiar - he was Mr. Molesley on Downton Abbey.
• Health: Not feeling 100% today. Because of the inoculations? The result is a total lack of patience. If I ever get a serious illness, I will be a whiny bitch on wheels, not the sweet old lady who puts up a brave front. 
• Weather: After all my complaining about mild winters, I am now really tired of having to bundle up me and the dogs in order to go for a walk. The neighbor who usually blows my driveway is distracted by a new girl friend, so I've had to shovel. Not that I mind shoveling a little snow - it's part of my exercise routine - it's the long underwear that chafes (figuratively speaking).
• Shopping: I have been contemplating my spendthrift ways. Need a moratorium from Amazon.

Still brrr

I guess much of the northern part of the country is stuck with sub-freezing temps for a while. I'll have to get used to it. At least we don't have five feet of snow.

Today:

• Dog walking/step counting: Actually took the dogs on two walks today, abbreviated individual dog walks in the morning, together in the afternoon. While P was at Meier's, he picked up a couple of water buffalo horn chew "toys" for them. They are cheaper than elk antler but I don't think they will last long. No one has urped them up... so far.
• Dog training: More indoor work. When P came over, "place" was a medium FAIL.
• House cleaning: I started carpet cleaning with the remnants. Unfortunately, I dropped the canister so now it has a big, leaky crack in it. I hope I can fix it with Gorilla Glue. Sometimes I think it would be easier to replace the carpets instead of clean them.
• Fiber: Achieved my daily row count on the baby blanket. Started a new weaving swatch: 4x1 twill in two shades of gray.
• Eating: Almost all the pot roast is gone. That is one dish I think it is impossible to ruin. Down to my last Harry and David pear.
• Entertainment: Finished season one of Happy Valley.

Am I tired of this yet?

Today:

• Lousy night's sleep. I kept waking up because my shoulders hurt from yesterday's injections.
• I did not walk the dogs in the morning, as the temp was -6 (NEGATIVE 6) and the wind chill factor unacceptable. I can bundle up in layers and put jackets on the dogs, but it is still a bit much to expect out of them.
• More knitting on the baby blanket.
• Dusted my bedroom. Later found the cat had upset a glass of water on the nightstand. At least I assume it was Beau the Feline Destroyer of all Things Nice. Since I had a handwoven cotton runner on the nightstand, most of the damage was contained. At least he did not knock over the lamp. I hate broken glass in my bed.
• Since it was so cold out, I worked on the dogs inside: come, sit, place, heel (off leash). In the afternoon, when it had warmed up to 10 with little wind, I took them both out together. They did good. My new boots did good, too.
• Finishing up In the Watershed, as it is due back at the library and I can't renew it because of holds. One more chapter to go. This is a small, thoughtfully written book by a local fellow, about a local river, the Maumee.
• Finished weaving the checks swatch. Even blocked it. Next one is twill, so I researched how to do that on the swatch maker.
• Leafed through some seed catalogs and updated my yardening spreadsheet a bit.
• My tablet is back from being repaired. They wiped it, so nothing is installed anymore. Also the SD card is missing. While the tablet has been on vacation, I have been using my laptop, which I think I like better than the tablet. At least it has a real keyboard.
• Watched two more episodes of Happy Valley. Gritty.

Just say YES

After I lost Charlie, my basset mix, I enumerated all the reasons I shouldn't get another dog. A friend who had also recently lost her dog listened to my reasoning, then stated firmly that she had thought those same thoughts, but decided she didn't care. She went on to get TWO dogs, while I adopted Betsy Beagle who was destined to become the doggy love of my life.

A little over two years ago, Betsy went to doggy heaven. I still tear up thinking about her final days. A lot was happening back then: my father passed, I retired, etc. Eventually, I felt ready for another dog, and along came Watson.

My goal was to get a dog who wanted to go for walks but didn't need to go. That criteria turned out not to match Watson at all. He is a bundle of energy, always on high alert. We walk 2-3 miles a day and he still needs more.

Meet Clio. She is a yellow lab/pitbull mix, adopted from the Fort Wayne Pitbull Coalition. Before my daughter adopted a pit mix, I would not have considered the so-called breed, but Maybell is such a sweetheart! Clio has a similar temperament, despite coming from less than ideal circumstances.

Before Watson, I had considered getting a yellow lab but decided they were too big. Clio weighs the same as Watson, but is much leggier. She is 8 or 9 months old, so while I don't expect her to get much taller, she will probably fill out a bit. I'm hoping not too much.

Since she is so tall, I forget that she is still a puppy, needs puppy food and puppy naps. She also needs some lessons on where to pee (NOT IN THE HOUSE PLEASE) and other training. So far, she responds well to treats and has learned to sit on command already.

Watson has certainly met his match energy-wise. They play well 95% of the time, still sorting out who top dog is. Watson is older and male, but Clio can straddle him which he finds frustrating. He was acting submissive yesterday but is trying to turn the tables today.I can't wait for the mutual humping and genital licking to subside.

I know people who, after losing a pet, swear off animals forever. I can't believe they would sacrifice years of happiness for a little sadness. Unwanted pets is not the problem it used to be around here, thanks to spaying and neutering programs and alternatives to euthanasia, especially for stray cats. Adult dogs and cats usually come housebroken and ready to love someone new. Even senior pets can provide years of loyalty and affection.

Please, please check out the animals in your local shelter. Say YES to love. You can save a life... and some little furball just might save yours.

Howl

A week ago, Betsy Beagle made her final trip to the vet. She'd been going downhill for some time now: walking on her hocks, one by one giving up her favorite foods, sleeping 24/7. I administered Rimadyl for her arthritis, tried K-Laser treatments as well, which helped some for a while. Getting her to eat dog food became an issue. I tried this and that, and she would either refuse it outright, eat it once or twice before rejecting it, or eat it and vomit. Toward the end, I was cooking for her - chicken and rice, hamburger and potatoes, bacon and eggs - but when even people food went untouched, I knew it was time.

Betsy Beagle, 2002 - 2015

Betsy was a shelter dog with an unknown past. It seemed she had never been inside a house and had no vocabulary (not even "NO"). She was the first dog I've owned that I did not have to share with other family members, and we bonded quickly and deeply. Being a beagle, she loved people but was not a people pleaser. Being a beagle, she had quite the nose, and huffed rabbit scent (and ate rabbit poop) while ignoring the rabbits themselves. Being a beagle, she was a couch potato, which worked well while I was still employed. When I retired, she retired as well, sleeping in each morning.

Canine love is unconditional, uncomplicated, pure. No one loves us like our dogs. Who will love me like that now?

Stuff

Since I can work from home, I am home a lot, but rarely does my doorbell ring unexpectedly. Lately, however, there has been a parade of "entrepreneurs" hoping to generate some income by selling this or offering a free estimate for that. So far, no out-and-out beggars, but I have to wonder if my recent visitors aren't feeling a bit desperate, to be going door-to-door in January.

Last week at Target, the cashier mistook me for a fellow employee, because I was wearing a red jacket. I told him I did not work there, I just liked the color red. "But you're wearing khakis, too!" Great. I dress like I'm on duty at Target.

More apps for the Nook: NY Times crossword (which unfortunately are not tied to a subscription, so while the app is great, you get only 30 puzzles) and Lose It! for tracking diet and exercise (also good, but you cannot enter the food amounts by weight).

Football playoffs have begun. Since the Colts did not make it this year (really REALLY did not make it), I'm not too interested in the outcomes. The Saints-49ers game was exciting, but watching the Pats cream Denver was a yawner. Glad I did not stay up for that one. And by the way, a note to Tim T and all the other players giving glory on the field: God does not care whether you win at football. At least, I hope not.

The pets had their annual exams and shots recently. Fern has been losing a lot of hair. I've talked with both vets about it, but neither has much to offer since there is no obvious cause. One even suggested she might be "stressed" which sounds a lot like "it's all in her head". I've tried feeding her sardines and fish oils, but she refuses to eat them. (What kind of cat does not like fish?!?) I did change her food, and I *think* there may be some improvement.

Meanwhile, Betsy is kind of lumpy. I noticed a lump on her chest, which is probably a fatty tumor, plus one in her armpit. The vet detected some in the lymph nodes in her neck. No treatment, but now I am suspecting she has a bladder infection because she has peed on the carpet twice in the past week or so. She has not done that in years, since the last time she had a bladder infection. I am tricking her into drinking more (a little chicken broth in the water bowl helps), but may request a round of antibiotics as well.

As for little creatures of the human kind, my granddaughter is getting so BIG. She can climb on and off chairs, reach things on tables, and almost turn door knobs. She is also starting to imitate - I gave her a cloth napkin to play with and she used it to wipe down her high chair. Totally ineffective, but totally cute as well.

Free to good home

I have owned cats since I was about four years old, starting with a tom cat named Pinky. Back then, all cats were outdoor cats. They might spend time indoors, but they knew to sit by the door when they needed to go out and do their "business". In fact, they preferred to spend at least some of their time outdoors, especially at night.

Fast forward about twenty years (and many cats later because, gee, outdoor cats seem to "disappear" a lot), and we were living in the country with one rather old cat, ostensibly an outdoor cat, but one that didn't seem to "need" to go outside very often. Alas, this was because she was using the area under out bed as her litter box. What amazes me to this day is that we never noticed any smell, that is until we rudely disturbed the area by ripping up the carpet. For the first time, we instituted a litter box. Problem solved, but it was also the beginning of the Era of the Indoor Cat.

Fast forward another thirty years....

Most cats seem to be born knowing how to use a litter box, but somehow my current cat is one that has, and always has had, "issues". It doesn't seem to matter how clean, how private, how perfectly designed a litter box may be (and I have quite the collection of them), with Fern it is hit or miss. When I still had a Florida room, with its cement floor, this was not a big problem. Fern would pee in the box and at least poop in the area of the box if not right in it. But now the Florida room is gone, and I have discovered that there is no other area in the house that is conducive to haphazard litter box usage.

Right now the box is in the laundry room where there is a toilet, so scooping up errant piles and disposing of them is not a big deal. But recently there has been pee just outside the box. Of course, in Fern's mind, she is technically in the box, but just barely. I keep the box in a tray, so at least the floor is spared. But still.

I could not figure out why all of a sudden this problem cropped up, but one day, when the carpet cleaners came and I dragged Fern out from behind the couch, I discovered that she weighed a TON. Aha, I thought, she is simply too big for the box. That also explains why her personal hygiene has been a bit lax lately.

You might wonder why I had not noticed Fern's weight gain before this. For one thing, she is a big cat, a raccoon look-alike. For another, she is not a lap cat. She likes to be petted, but only on her terms, and distrusts me completely. After all, I am the one who takes her to the vet and cleans her ears. Also, sometimes I yell at the dog, which causes Fern to think I am this household terror who is out to do her harm.

Fern is not actually my cat, but my daughter's, but my daughter and her husband already have two cats and a baby, so they don't want Fern. Fern loves my SO, even lets him brush her, but the sentiment is not returned. Fern also loves my son, but he is in a three-cat household, plus is not interested in such a high maintenance animal. Fern is, what, 11? 12 years old? Surely she can't live forever. Or can she?

I tried to weigh Fern, to see just how heavy she was, but that freaked her out. Even so, I cut back on her food, and now she appears to be fitting into the litter box better these days. One can only hope.

Insomnia

That's my excuse for not updating this blog more often. Periodically, I suffer through bouts of insomnia, but this most recent one has been particularly relentless. Recently, I participated in an insomnia survey of sorts, a class project of my massage therapist, and she suggested I read Insomniac, by Gayle Greene.



I have never been able to discern a reason why my insomnia comes and goes, but I'm guessing it's a combination of anxiety, hormones, and stress.

Also, the rabbit died. That used to mean "I'm pregnant" but in this case, the rabbit literally died.



My pet bunny suddenly sickened and passed before I could get him to the vet. I've lost pets before but only after they have grown old and/or suffered through a long illness. HipHop was young and I expected to have him for several more years. I'm a little surprised at how much it affected me, too. I think the older we get, the more difficult loss becomes, which is unfortunate because losses large and small really start piling up as we age.

Another feature of aging is realizing we are not going to do all those things we thought we would do "someday". Like travel. And by travel, I mean really travel, and not just in herds of seniors.



From reading Where the Hell is Matt? I realize why I don't really travel: my physical comfort and safety matter more to me than visiting strange and exotic places. Is that the definition of old or what?

Speaking of old, I am also reading Somewhere Towards the End, by Diana Athill.



Liberated woman or slut? She likes to kiss and discreetly tell. She is less discreet in her opinions, and I favor candid people.

What else has been going on lately? Our all-employee summer event was postponed at the last minute because it was inadvertently scheduled the same week as a global downsizing. (My department downsized last year, so we were left relatively unscathed.) We were to go bowling. We went bowling several years ago for the all-employee event. At that time, we were gifted tee-shirts in the company color with the company logo on the front. Not bad, I thought, until I unfolded it the day of the event.



Fridays are jeans day and I frequently wear this shirt then, which makes the person responsible for its design happy. She does not realize I am wearing it ironically.

Speaking of work, we are getting a new building next year and the new building will have new work stations. This is my current cubicle. (Sorry about the crummy pics - had to use my cell phone camera.)



This is your standard cube, about 9' x 9', with a hutch, some shelves, some drawers, a visitor's chair, and a 5-drawer file cabinet. I also have a white board and a hook to hang my coat. The cloth walls are about 5' tall, giving one the pretense of privacy.

Here is the new work station. (If you look closely, you can see the hand of god giving it the spark of life.)



Floor space is about 5.5' x 5.5'. Walls are about 4' tall. Shelves and drawers are limited; no white boards and no coat hooks. If one rolls one's chair back from the desk a bit, one is in the aisle.

The desk can be cranked up so one may work standing up...



... just in case one wishes to remain above the fray.

"They" set up two of these 6-stall pods, one right next to my cube, so I get to hear all the complaints and carping. Once the novelty wears off, two employees are going to take up residence.

In fact, here is one of those employees now, with another co-worker who is making sure the monitor is level by using an app on his Google phone.



Is that geeky or what?

Bad Human! Bad, Bad, Bad!

I like animals, especially my animals. Even though I frequently declare that I am moving toward a petfree existence (usually after scooping dog poop, cleaning out the litter box, and picking up rabbit doodoos from the carpet before they become doggy treats), I know in my heart of hearts that my house would not be a home without at least one critter to pretend she cares about me for myself and not because I have opposable thumbs that can open pet food containers.

But I often feel like a less than stellar pet owner. I don't groom them as often as I should (much to Fern's disgust - she is the only one who actually likes to be brushed), I never clean their teeth (that's what vets and anesthesia are for), and they rarely get the exercise they need.

The Indiana House Rabbit Society says house rabbits should get 30-40 hours of cagefree time a week. I don't think I am home 40 hours a week (not counting sleep time). We have Bunny Hour almost every night, though, hence the doodoo duty mentioned above.

The cat is fat. No two ways about it. When Fern first joined our household, she was a bag of bones because she had an upper respiratory infection and nothing smelled like food to her. Once we cleared up the infection, though, she started eating and never stopped. Until recently. I had moved the "cat condo" (an old Sauder computer hutch) out to the new room but had not pushed it all the way up to the wall. Fern accidentally pushed her food dish off one too many times and now will not eat out there. I tried to outwait her - HA! - but broke down and started feeding her out of the dog's dish. During the waiting period, however, Fern actually lost a few pounds. I can tell because she can clean her own butt now. And she plays with her toys more; I found Fishy in my knitting bag one day, the victim of Toss and Pounce, or at least, Toss.

Betsy Beagle had ACL surgery about six weeks ago, so for a while I had an excuse for not exercising her. But she has lost a lot of muscle in her hindquarters, so now I try to get her up and about a couple of times a day. If the weather is crappy, I lure her into walking around the house by leaving a trail of kibble or Cheerios; ten laps around the fireplace takes ten minutes. Since the surgery, her life has gone to shit - just ask her and she will tell you all about it.