Caution: This property guarded by a PET ROCK

Somebody (actually, a different somebody each time) keeps running over our mailbox. I don't know why it keeps happening. Nobody else in the neighborhood seems to suffer the same problem we do. It's not like ours is in a "different" or unique place, or stands out in any way. But run over it they do.

The first time was probably 15 years ago. And I can actually understand how that one happened... there was snow and ice on the roads and the person driving probably turned the corner on to our street going a bit too fast for the road conditions, got a bit loose and took out our mailbox. What really pissed us off is that he/she didn't bother to stop and say "sorry" or "I'll fix that for you". Instead he(I'm assuming) drove on down the street and parked in a neighbors driveway. Now the reason we know it was this particular car was that we could follow the tire tracks from the scene of the crime right to his parking place. We could've made an issue out of it, but opted not to.

We replaced the mailbox at our own expense.

We also placed a very large rock, probably 100 lbs. or more that is odd shaped, almost pointy at the top, next to the mailbox and planted some daylillies around the area.

I think it was less than a year later that we got a phone call from a neighbor while we were out to dinner that the police were looking for us. Us? What had we done? Well, it wasn't what we had done, but what a suspect had done to our mailbox. Apparently the youth was involved in a high-speed chase and turned into our neighborhood and down our cul-de-sac without realizing it was a dead-end street.

When he turned the corner too fast, he ran up in our yard and took out our new mailbox. But the happy ending here is that the big rock got hung up under his car and he drug it all the way down the street before running his car up into another neighbors driveway where his car wouldn't go any further because of the damage the rock had done to it. The kid ran away on foot, but the police tracked him down from his text books he left lying in the front seat. Doh!!

We got home and drove down the street to retrieve our rock. It was quickly becoming our "pet rock". John loaded it into the truck and we hauled it back home where he placed it back in place next to the remains of our shattered mailbox. The rock to this day still shows the scuff marks of where it was dragged down the street.

The boy's mother made him pay for our new mailbox and to have the neighbor's driveway repaired where the rock had scratched the surface. (I thought that was a ridiculous request on their part, but I guess they wanted to teach him a lesson). I'm sure he had to pay for the damages to his mother's car as well. I'm guessing it was the most expensive rock that kid ever ran over.

Over the years, we've added a few smaller rocks around the mailbox and the daylillies have expanded to a nice sized little flowerbed. Of course right now it's just a bunch of tall, green leafy fronds that have grown to hide Pet Rock , who sits there waiting for the next hapless suspect. Pet Rock watches over our mailbox and yes, our cars.** Pet Rock that waits to wreak havoc on the next car that ventures too far off of the pavement and crosses onto our propertyline.

**Had either of our cars been parked at the end of the driveway as they normally would had we both been home, then that boy would most certainly have hit our car as well since the mailbox is less than 5' from the edge of the driveway.

So, a few weeks ago on a Friday morning, I didn't go to the gym as I normally do because I had been battling an infection in my lungs caused from my allergies. Anyway, I did go out shortly after 7am to take Olivia out and right away I noticed that Pet Rock was lying in the driveway on it's side instead of standing sentry duty next to the mailbox. WTH???

As we approached the end of the driveway, I saw the torn pieces of daylilly fronds lying in the street and many more that were mashed into the curb and the tire mark where it had gone thru the flowerbed. It appearred as if the car might've gotten temporarily hung up and sat spinning his tires on the fronds, judging by the way they were crushed into the curb. Pet Rock was wearing fresh scuff marks and I knew it had claimed another victim. The anger and annoyance I felt over someone having nearly taken out another mailbox was quickly replaced with a wicked little smile as I silently hoped that Pet Rock had done enough damage to the car to have taught a lesson to the perpetrator.

I called John after I got to work and told him to be careful when he got home as Pet Rock was parked at the edge of the driveway and I didn't want him to run over it, not noticing it sitting there. He asked why it was there, I told him, and simultaneously, as if we'd rehearsed it, we both blurted out, "I hope it damaged their car!" and we laughed.

That evening, after he had put Pet Rock back in it's place to once again stand sentry over our little corner of the world, John came in and showed me a piece of the automobile he'd found in the flowerbed. Apparently Pet Rock had taken a bite out of the car and then spit it out.

It just really irks me that someone would run up in to our yard in the first place and cause damage and irks me even more that they don't stop and offer apologies or offer to repair any damages. But it's because of people like that that we keep Pet Rock.

I'm beginning to think that Pet Rock needs a friend to help stand guard. I've got some large pieces of granite lying about that has very sharp, jagged edges on it, I think that would be the perfect mate for Pet Rock.

Honestly though, I had the windows open during the time this incident had to have happened, so I'm surprised I didn't hear the noise, or at the very least, that the dogs didn't cause a commotion when it happened.

So if you're ever in the neighborhood, stop by and visit our Pet Rock. Feel free to pet Pet Rock or have your picture taken with it. But don't ever drive your vehicle anywhere near it or you'll be sorry!!

Bootsy

As many of you probably know by now, we lost our beloved Bootsy to bone cancer on June 17th.
When she was diagnosed back in March, we had made the decision to "let her be a dog" for as long as she had instead of trying to treat it. We didn't know how much time she/we had left, whether it would be a week, a month, a year... As it turned out, three months.
We watched her decline over those three months, at first slowly and then in noticeable stages, and at the end, VERY rapidly. Some days you would hardly know there was anything wrong unless you noticed the large knot on the inside of her left hind leg...

Then her limping became more noticeable, yet still, she would continue to charge out the back door when something piqued her interest enough and she'd dash around the yard with Eliott. She finally got to the point where she seemed to realize that it was no longer safe for her to take flying leaps off the side of the deck and go sailing thru space, and instead would run down the stairs in her three-legged hop, occasionally touching that fourth paw to the ground for balance.

The week before we lost her, I had commented that she was spending more and more time in the dog crate, sleeping and distancing herself from the other dogs. My friend asked if the vet had put her on any pain meds and I said "no", we hadn't been back to the vet. This may sound cruel on my part, but I wasn't going to spend a whole lot of money just to delay the inevitable, instead I started giving her two aspirin at each of her meals, and it seemed to help quite a bit. She seemed to get a bit of her spark back, and just four days later, on Wednesday evening, she was zipping through the house, spinning in circles and thrashing her blanket from side to side while holding it in her mouth just as she had always done at meal time. Shaking the blanket seemed to be her ritual, perhaps like a dog in the wild shaking it's captured prey too death before consuming it. I commented to John that she seemed to be feeling pretty good and that the aspirin must really be helping.

But oh, what a difference 24 hours can make...

On Thursday evening when we got home, she could barely get up to come to the kitchen and eat, staggering all over the place and swaying as she tried to stand still. Her other legs were quivering with the effort to support and keep her balanced and upright. She was whimpering (something I don't think I had EVER heard her do for any reason), and only ate about half of her dinner. She finally made it back to the living room and layed down. I looked at John and said, "it's time".

I was ready to take her to the vet right then and there, as I didn't want her to suffer a minute longer than necessary.

He hung his head and sat down and got all pouty, then started with the "well, what if's....?"

"No! No what' if's! Look at her, it's not fair to let her go on like that. Do you want to see her suffering?"

Of course he didn't, but I still managed to let him talk me out of taking her to the vet right then and there, instead we put it off 'til the next day. This of course meant she had a miserable night and so did we. After we'd gone to bed, her whimpering tugged at my heart and caused me to go out and cuddle with her for a bit. At some time during the night, she managed to get into the dog crate on her own and sprawl all the way in the back, as far away from the crate's door as possible.

When I called the vet that morning to let them know I was bringing her in, they said they couldn't take us 'til 3pm. I thought that was rather rude under the circumstances. She refused food and water, and I tried getting her to go outside to potty, but she didn't even try to get up, so I just closed the door on the crate, told Olivia she had free run of the house that day, and headed off to work with a heavy heart.

When I arrived home that afternoon, Bootsy was still in the same exact position as when I'd left. As she wouldn't get up on her own, John and I literally had to grab a hold of the blanket she was on and drag her to the front of the crate. I then took a large towel and threaded it under her midsection to form a sling so we could help raise her up (something we learned to do from our experience with Kelsey). On shakey legs, Bootsy walked on her front legs while John supported her rear, I lead her on the leash outside. Bless her heart, we took her into the grass to pee before getting into the car and I didn't think she'd ever finish. She had been holding it for about 20 hours! We lifted her in the car for one last car ride.

We left her lying towards the back of my Vue, but on the drive, she managed to turn herself around and pull herself towards the front to be closer to us.

After we got to the vet's and I'd made the arrangements for cremation and paid the bill, I went outside to cuddle with her just a few more minutes 'til the vet and her two assistants came out. John & I both held on to her, showing her love one last time and then the drug took over and her head became heavy in my arms.

Of course we were both crying, not caring who witnessed.

John helped put Bootsy on a stretcher and carry her into the clinic. We miss our Bootsy girl, but I'm okay with how we handled things. Some people have said they always second-guess themselves for weeks after having to put down a pet, but I know it was the right thing to do and the right time. I suppose we could've gotten some better drugs from the vet, but like I said before, it would've just been delaying the inevitable. Her time had come and she had let us know.

When we get her ashes back, she'll take her place on the shelf along side Smokey, Kelsey and BJ, and her collar will be retired and placed atop the urn. Normally, I stick the favorite toy of said pet (or at least, a piece of it) into the urn along with the ashes and whatever puppy-teeth I collected from their youth, but Bootsy never played with toys much and she was nearly full-grown when we got her, so her urn won't be filled with as many memories as the others. She did enjoy a good bone from time to time, so I guess I'll have to see if I can find a small one to put in there for her.

These were the last pix I took of her, on June 8th.

Daneboa's These Boots Are Made for Walkin'

aka: Bootsy or Boo-Boo

04/19/2003 - 06/17/2011

We love you Bootsy!!

Gone shopping!

It seems that it's been forever since I posted anything, even longer since I've had time to read anyone else's blog. I've been staying super-dooper busy, between working at 2 different offices 20 miles apart (sometimes I feel like I spend my days just driving), taking Olivia to visit the various nursing homes several times a month, working out at the gym and life in general, it leaves little time for anything else.
However...
I did find time this past weekend to go shopping. I've gone on a couple of free shopping sprees in my spare closet in the past couple of months and have been able to fit back into many clothes items that I had just about given up hope of ever fitting into again. But I still didn't have a whole lot of things I could wear to work (that were season appropriate), so a trip to Kohls was in order. And since we all know how badly their clothes usually shrink after a few washings, I figure that's okay since hopefully I'll keep shrinking as well. ;)
I picked up several items and put them in the buggy, hoping they'd fit, but not overly confident that much of it would. Imagine my surprise when not only did a few of them fit, but many of them were waaay too big and I had to swap them out for an even smaller size. Whooppeeee!!!
This gave me some encouragement so when I got back home, I hit up the spare closet again and dipped into some smaller sizes I hadn't attempted to try on yet. Oh, and I had ordered 5 dresses on-line last week, and I had to send all of them back for being too big. That's not a problem I've ever had to contend with before. :)
I'm still going to the gym everyday and still loving it! The weight isn't coming off as fast now, which is fine, I know that's what happens. I finally started tracking everything I eat on-line now, and depending on what your intentions are (to lose weight, or to bulk up or just to maintain), it tells you how much you should be consuming as far as carbs, protein, fats and water consumption all based on the calorie amount you set for yourself. And as you input your food items, it breaks it down for you, and really makes you aware of what you;re consuming. Needless to say, I've not been eating nearly enough protein, and most days, I really struggle to get close, so I've started adding more unbreaded fish to my evening meals and the occasional protein bar. I bought some protein drinks & mix today and thought I'd give them a try too.
Initially, I tried to limit myself to 2000 calories per day, eventually dropping it down to 1900, then 1800. Today I actually dropped it down to 1700, and the only reason I did so was because most days, I wasn't even consuming my limit of 1800, and often don't reach 1700.
What really boggles my mind is even on those days when I have say 1600 or less, I don't go to bed feeling hungry. This coming from a girl who once upon a time would consume between 3000 and 5000 calories a day, on a regular basis and think nothing of it! It just goes to show that when you're eating the RIGHT foods, you really don't need to eat as much.
But I'll be honest, I don't, can't, won't be good 100% of the time. The day I had my yardale, I declared it a "freebie" day and ate everything in sight, and it was mostly chocolate chip cookies. Was I miserable afterwareds? yes, but it felt sinfully good at the time and it kindly helps keep me sane the rest of the time.
I've started downloading the nutritional menus from the restaurants we frequent the most and taking them with me when we go out to eat, so I can make smarter choices and know what to stear clear of. When we went to BW3's the other night to watch the fights, I actually filled up on one entree, but later forced myself to eat half of another (because I feel guilty tying up a table for so long without buying anything), and still managed to come in under my colorie/fat limits for the day.
I know I'm boring everyone with all this weight talk.
My 25th class reunion is on the 25th, and I can't wait to see everyone, especially the ones that have seen me in the past year when I was at my heaviest (assuming they show up). I'll be posting photos and updates on numbers on the 27th, so stay tuned...