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I love pugs. Kelsea and I love pugs. Though we missed it this year, last year we went to Milwaukee to attend Pugfest, which was magnificent. I learned that I need a lot faster lens to capture these scrumptious little dogs in action, but I did get a few classic shots. Since I had a horrible day today, and was treated to some excellent puppy therapy from a stranger, I wanted to share a puppy (or two) (or three) with you tonight.

IMG_2261

Pugfest, Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Quote of the day: “This is an important lesson to remember when you’re having a bad day, a bad month, or a shitty year. Things will change: you won’t feel this way forever. And anyway, sometimes the hardest lessons to learn are the ones your soul needs most. I believe you can’t feel real joy unless you’ve felt heartache. You can’t have a sense of victory unless you know what it means to fail. You can’t know what it’s like to feel holy until you know what it’s like to feel really fucking evil. And you can’t be birthed again until you’ve died.”  —  Kelly Cutrone

Daily gratitudes:
Shanti, the service Corgi
Tears
Determination
Fixing things
Christmas music
Strength
Not confronting the asslady who cut me off this morning
A temporary (?) computer fix

One of the prices of divorce is the pets. When I left, I left our pets behind. Between my depression, moving out, leaving my ex practically everything, working two jobs, and trying to start over, I couldn’t handle the responsibility of two dogs and two cats. The cottage didn’t officially allow pets, and as much as I loved my boys, I needed to not have that extra responsibility. Pat wasn’t working, so he spent the most time with all the animals, and the dogs had a big fenced yard. I could see them whenever I wanted. I missed them, but it was best for everyone – though I feel guilty about it. They still love me. They all come to give kisses when I visit. Dusty, my darling kitty, always come straight to me, and I’m still the only one allowed to pick him up for cuddles. Mel never fails to give me a disdainful big yellow tomcat greeting. Champ, Kelsea’s dog, generally wants a belly rub and a kiss.  And Roscoe never fails to greet me with a toy in his mouth – I have always been his absolute favorite playmate.

So when Pat called last week to say that something was wrong with Roscoe, I was naturally worried. After all, even though I don’t live with him anymore, he’s still my last baby. We got him at the pound as a teeny tiny puppy only 4 1/2 years ago.  At the time, they thought he was Australian Shepard/Golden Retriever. As it turns out, he’s 9/10ths Great Pyrenees, gigantic, cuddly, and adorable, though not as good as he might be with other dogs, as he likes to play “I’m gonna eat your face” which is a game a lot of other dog owners don’t understand.

Roscoe was moving stiffly and wouldn’t sit or lay down. Pat found a hole in his back, like a puncture. At first, he thought it was a bullet hole (we went through that with our most beloved ever first dog, Tug), but the vet said no, he must have just poked a hole in himself. The x-rays showed no bullet. The vet cleaned up the wound and gave Pat antibiotics to fend off infection, along with instructions on bandage changing and some painkillers.

A few days passed, and Roscoe was no better. I wanted Pat to take him back to the vet, but he insisted on waiting until the course of antibiotics was gone. And the day the antibiotics wore off (yesterday), one of Roscoe’s back legs swelled up to three times its normal size. So Pat took him in. And they did surgery on him last night to remove a 9-inch wood spike that he had somehow driven into his body and broken off.  The surgery took two surgeons, and the incision is down a large part of his left side. It is badly infected. They have a pump pumping pus out of him and have him on massive antibiotics and painkillers.

They are not sure yet that he will survive.

So please set your prayers and intentions, send healing juju, and use any otherworldly powers you might have, to help my Roscoe get through this and get back to his old self, with no PTSD.  I just want my boy to greet me with a toy in his mouth again, and I promise him a good long game of “I’m gonna get you.”

I may not live with him anymore, but I still love my boy.

As you may have figured out, this week I will be writing about Christmas “stuff”, as well as the emotions that go along with the holidays.  This is a slight departure from the theme, but as you’ll see, not really.

When Kelsea and I were driving back from our Labor Day mother-daughter getaway in Cheyenne, we saw a plume of smoke over the mountains, being buffeted about by high winds.  I said to her, “Uh oh.”  By the time we got to the outskirts of Boulder, this is what we saw:

Uh oh was an understatement.  The Four Mile Fire destroyed 169 homes on the edge of Boulder.  I knew several people who were evacuated, and many who were on edge, but I had not met anyone who had lost their home until Thanksgiving.  One of my fellow dinner guests at the Big House was a gentleman who had lost his home in the fire, and he was still clearly and understandably shell-shocked.

One of the blogs I follow, http://piperbayard.wordpress.com/, wrote today about Andi, a woman who lost everything (except her dog, her kayak and the clothes she had packed for the trip to Port Townsend, where she was when the fire happened) in the fire.  Andi’s award-winning blog can be found at Burning Down the House.

In order to bring holiday cheer to what has been a dark time, Nellie (Andi’s dog) is hoping to receive Christmas cards from all over the world.  The cards brighten little Nellie’s mood, and everyone, including dogs, needs that at this time of year.  So I’m asking my friends in the blogosphere around this earth to take five minutes out of their day, and send a card to Nellie at this address:

Princess Nellie
c/o Chautauqua Main Office
900 Baseline Road
Boulder, CO  80302

It will make us all have a little merrier Christmas and spread a little more love.  That’s always a good thing.  Let’s show Nellie that love is something no fire can destroy.

Gratitudes: Christmas Trees, the upcoming Lunar Eclipse (even if I’m not awake for it), warm winters, power strips, pork green chile.

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