Yes, it’s true. Today I was reminded that I haven’t posted any pictures of Duncan recently.
You remember Duncan, don’t you?
Here he is right after we brought him home, sitting in his toy basket.
He doesn’t quite fit inside it any more.
Duncan is quite camera shy. We get loads of pictures of his butt, which, in my opinion, is not his best feature. The face doesn’t stay still long enough for photo-ops. Apparently, he will never run for Congress.
But the little guy has had quite a good time. He is love, played with, pampered. He has even had a vacation at the shore. Here he is on a rocky beach in Maine. When the rocks are wet, looking for Duncan is very much like playing Where’s Waldo.
Got any Sushi?
Now, let’s see if I can do this. I took some video inspired by Will of Marking Our Territory, alerted me to a fast and easy way to destroy my iPad. So naturally I tried it!
And I uploaded my very first YouTube video.
Shit, I’m a rotten videographer …. but I’m a great dog mom! How many dogs get $300 dog toys?
As a person with Crohn’s Disease, I have seen my fair share of toilets, and my experiences there have been memorable. And sometimes life threatening (especially if Goliath was involved).
And while I fully expect to die on a toilet, I was not born in one.
The same cannot be said of Eleanor Tomczyk, who writes a terrific blog called How the hell did i end up here? If you don’t already know Eleanor, go on over. She always brings a smile, makes you think, makes you laugh.
The story of her life is written up in her memoir, Monsters’ Throwdown — from her disastrous beginnings being born in a toilet, through her triumphs. Eleanor always managed, somehow, to keep her head above water.
Monsters’ Throwdown will make you cry, make you laugh, make you thank your lucky stars that you didn’t have to go through what Eleanor did to just survive. But Eleanor did much more than that — she thrived. And we are all the better for it.
Available at Amazon — which, coincidentally, is where I got this image.
In today’s world, where racism has become, once again, less hidden, Monsters’ Throwdown is a book worth reading, and its lessons of survival, people helping people, love and triumph leave me very hopeful.
The book is available in paperback and on kindle through Amazon at this link.
Thanks, everybody, for all the nice comments about Duncan.
Sorry if yours was one of the comments I didn’t answer.
You see, I was afraid. Afraid of what was happening with Duncan.
Yup, things didn’t start smoothly at all.
Twenty-four hours after bringing our new son home, we were at animal emergency, with a dying puppy.
We don’t know what happened or why, but he developed a fever of 106.3 degrees — dogs are normally 99-102. Our puppy was sick, and possibly dying.
If I am ever reincarnated as a dog, I want to be my dog. I’m not quite sure how I can work that out, though.
Anyway, Duncan was admitted, treated with antibiotics and IV fluids (at great expense). We left him last night, certain that he was going to die.
Thankfully he didn’t. He spent some more time with our own vet, closer to home, this afternoon before we brought him home early this evening (Monday).
So far, Duncan is acting very much like a puppy — he plays, eats, poops and pees. We are keeping a close watch on him.
I will never let him see this picture of himself during the interval between the ER and our vet. Because I fear he’d die of embarrassment.
“This is Embarrassing”
When I texted this photo to Jacob, he responded: “When did we switch to Dish Network?”
Everybody was saying sweet things about Duncan — and I just couldn’t answer when I didn’t know if he was going to make it.
We have no idea what caused the problem. It may be a bacterial infection, a virus. It could be all kinds of things. Tests to possibly determine what caused it would have cost $THOUSANDS, and we opted to treat, rather than investigate.
“I have to believe,” Dad said smiling, looking across the table at the lot of us. By an amazing coincidence (school vacations) we had an unplanned family gathering — all seven of us, plus respective spouses and grandkids there in Florida at the same time.
It was bitter-sweet, though, we all knew would be the last with all of us together. Mom was fading quickly.
The laughter and individual conversations and one liners quieted down as we all expected Dad to give a toast.
“When I look at all five of you,” Dad paused, smiled, put his arm around Mom, “I have to believe … that your mom and I — are at least first cousins.”
The crowd roared.
My Dad wasn’t much for sentimentality. He was a wise-ass, and a very funny man with terrific comedic timing. But in his heart he was a romantic. And he loved those sappy, romantic songs from the 1930s and 1940s. Of course he did, he fell in love with Mom when she was singing them.
Actually, Dad wouldn’t tell me how he met Mom. Well, he told me how they met many times. A different story every single time I asked, with the more outrageous ones coming out if Mom was in the room. It became a wonderful game for the two of us. How he met the girl of his dreams.
“Dad? How’d you meet Mom?”
“One day I found myself whistling a happy tune, turned the corner and saw her and figured out why I was whistling.”
“Dad? How’d you meet Mom?”
“Who?”
“Dad? How’d you meet Mom?”
“I was just walking down the street one day, and she chased after me. She never DID let me go.”
“Dad? How’d you meet Mom?” I asked when I was hospitalized for the first time.
“She was singing in a show. She was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. So I went back stage.”
I don’t really know if that was the real answer, but I suspect it is. Because Dad always had a soft spot for those old torch songs. And he loved to hear Mom sing them — which she did with such style, even if she was washing dishes as she sang.
So here, for Dad and his lady, is one of Dad’s favorites. I can remember him telling me the story of Irving Berlin and Ellin Mackay. They fell in love but her father disapproved, and sent her off to Europe. He wrote this song and married the girl.
Happy Father’s Day to my Dad, to my Husband (a wonderful Dad) and to all of you Dads.
(And Frank? You guessed it — John HATES this song!)
Because everyone enjoyed my last public service announcement, Medical Advice, I figured you might need some advice on, umm, other drug-related issues. You can thank me later.
FiftyFourandAHalf 