Busy, Busy, Busy and Poop

 Hey, yeah I know, I haven't written in a bit, but I'm a puppy, I have things to do.

Job #1: Freak out Toast and Bleeder.

They seem overly concerned about my poop. Everything, to them, is about poop. I truly believe they determine the future of the entire world based on the consistency of my poop. Every time I poop, they examine it, sort through it, give it ratings, place it into a bag and put it into a container. According to them, it is not natural to emit a stream of fluid out of one's butt. 

This got me a ride in my fancy car to the vet. I have to say, I'm not overly thrilled with the destination, this place was marketed as a spa, and yet they do horrible things to me there... like clip my sharp talons. How can I possibly maintain a constant stream of Bleeder blood and scars with dulled nails? The band-aid industry relies upon my diligence!

My poo was put into a centrifuge and determined that bunny poo eating was not the cause of my gastric upset. It may have been the rubber band I ate and pooped out in pieces a few days ago, or it could be all of the grass that I pull up and shake the dirt off of and consume, roots and all. This dirt shaking is also the cause of having a goopy ear, because when one shakes dirt... it goes into an ear canal, which means I have to sit and allow Bleeder to shove her kleenex covered finger into my ear and then squirt goop into it for 7 days.

I also have a suspected soft muscle injury of my right leg, which Toast insists is due to my "klutziness". Sure, I've fallen off the couch a few times, I've fallen up and down the deck stairs more than once, and I even jumped up, got my foot caught in Bleeder's jacket pocket and plummeted to the ground... but I meant to do all of that.

No, I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to stand on the coffee table

But the poop, the poop is the mystery that was supposed to be solved with the tasty new sensitive stomach salmon foodables. But I'm a puppy, and puppies eat all things except their food, so I was put on a rather foul tasting pill that they tried to disguise in a tasty caramel (I bit into it once... um... yuck) and that gave me poops that made Toast and Bleeder celebrate! Imagine having such a horrible life that someone else's solid poop brings you joy? They really need to stop and rip up some grass and shake the dirt in their ears and enjoy life.

Once I was cleared of having parasites, our daily walks started up again (thankfully), and now I'm back to cruising the streets and licking at squished snakes, toads, frogs, and trying to get at that bloated dead squirrel up the block. My walk now includes a run at the beginning and end, but Bleeder (my main walker) runs way too slow, and doesn't appreciate my sudden veering and stopping to sniff at things. She claims I'm trying to kill her.  Well... 

Of course, the poop celebration was short lived, and the moment I went off the pills... squishy poop... with grass. So apparently I'm now forbidden to rip up big chunks of grass when I'm in the yard, and this is not fair.

They also expect me to eat my food from a bowl. I don't like that bowl. I didn't like my last bowl. I don't like any of the bowls except for the small human bowl that Bleeder fills with a small amount of kibble, then replenishes when I've completed that bowl. I literally have them feeding me by hand. I'm a genius.

Until Bleeder has declared that I'll either eat, or don't eat, but if I don't eat that doesn't mean I'm allowed to eat the stuff in the yard instead, and has threatened a leash yard restriction. There are so many stupid rules in this house.

Here's one: I'm not allowed to attack them in bed at bed time.

Seriously, that's a rule here!

I'm not allowed to sneak into their "spot" and then play fight them for the spot! Ridiculousness!

They've instituted a "no play on the bed" rule and have gotten nuclear with the spray bottle of water... which I HATE! 

So, yeah, lots of poop and rules.

On the bright side, I'm getting better at squirrel stalking.

I also got a new bed, some Casper thing. It's very comfortable, so I don't sleep on it, but when I do, I always observe proper husky sleeping positions.

I also have a fun new toy called a Crinkit. Great fun and makes crinkly noises. I have yet to defeat it.

This is my flower. It rolls and I attack it.

Now if you excuse me, I have to watch out for more squirrels.

Don't Believe Everything You See

 Another week of intensive human training has passed and I'm not too sure these humans can be trained, they seem increasingly dumber by the day. Of course they have their excuses:

• Sleep deprived
• Caffeine deprived
• They are old
• They are out of shape
• One bleeds if you look at her wrong
• The other claims a myriad of physical issues
• They both have things called jobs, which takes precious time away from me
• There's a storm with lightening and can't walk me
• They don't appreciate my 5 foot vertical leaping
• They don't like it when I stomp on them in bed (Toast is really sensitive about this part)
• They no longer allow me to ricochet off the new bed (What the fluff!?)
• Instead of getting me a friend to play with, I have to pretend to be afraid of a leaf bag that Bleeder chases me and rattles... so lame. She can't even run that fast.

One of the exercises I do enjoy is the daily walk. I have to wait until 6pm to go, and I try to get them to go earlier, but something about that time being the perfect time to wear me out for them to go to bed and forego the usual stomping, cover diving, and gnawing routine I've honed. 

The biggest news is that since I was an itty, bitty, adorable puppy, I've had some stomach upset. It usually only happens at the pre-bed poo time, but it's a bit... runny. The humans have tried all manner of potions to solve the issue. Toast suggested that it was all of the yard stuff I eat on my evening yard duty time when I'm not stalking that stupid dove that trespasses in my yard. I can't help it, I love vines, and odd dirt, the occasional stick, some leaves, bugs, and I like to chew on rocks (but I don't eat rocks, I only gather rocks because they pay me in treats to bring them rocks, or something... working breed people!)

Bleeder had noticed that I'm not very fond of the chicken food I've been on since arriving here. Sure, they tried to dress it up... with more gravy chicken stuff, but seriously... I don't like chicken. It's not very exciting. Bleeder hit up her friends (she calls them friends, but frankly I think they're just voices in her head) and discovered that a lot of her "friends" feed this thing called Pro Plan Salmon and Rice for sensitive stomach and skin. I'm sensitive. I like salmon. I try to grab it off Toast and Bleeder's plates when they eat it... flaunting it in front of me when I'm faced with a bowl of bland icky kibble.

Lo and behold a large bag of it showed up. Ok, Bleeder went out and hunted one down and carried it in the house a few days ago. She placed it inside a bin and some spilled out. I sampled it. It was tasty! I wanted more. Bleeder said that I had to transition, so only a bit at a time with increasing amounts for the next 7 days. She didn't want my stomach to become upset. Seriously? I'm already squirting the chicken stuff out in the evening, how worse could it get, just give me the whole bin!

I'll just nap here until you open the bin, thank you very much

So, she started to give me the food, but it's in dribs and drabs and MIXED IN WITH THE ICKY CHICKEN!

So, I went on strike until the situation was resolved.

I refuse to eat until this situation is resolved.

I lasted until the evening. I'm actually not a breakfast girl, and since I don't eat breakfast, I can snack through the day, or just have it for lunch... I'll show them.

When I discovered that they were putting the kibbles into my kongs as "treats", well, I threw a snit so enormous...

I'm just gonna donut until my demands are met

So, I have to deal with all of that in a weakened state.

Feeling sorry for me, Toast suggested that they get one of those calming, cozy couch covers as seen on the socials. It has a little blanket attached to three bolsters and is supposed to the the WORLD'S MOST COMFORTABLEST, CALMING BED EVVVVVVVVEEEERRRRRRRRRRR!

So it arrived. I refused to lay on it. It was a bit silly. They put it on the bed where my favorite pillow was supposed to be, so I slept on Bleeders legs. Something about not having blood flow to her extremities (I mean come on, like there's any blood left in that carcass of hers?), and it was determined to stay on the couch... where I would refuse to lay in it.

At one point it was tossed on the floor and GAME ON! It then became a wonderful thing to play with, chew on, and hump. Yep, I'm the boss of all stuffies here and if a stuffy comes into the house, it will be humped and dominated. I'm a red queen after all.

After I made sure I had dominated the couch cover, I did snuggle with it...

... and then ripped it to shreds. I think it went to the same farm as all of the other stuffies before it.

So, that's about it for now.

Casey

Training Needs More Work

 I have been thwarted in my attempts to train these people.

While I understand they are experienced Northern Breed companions, I'm pretty sure they have never experienced my sheer intensity, drive, and cunning ability to create mayhem.

I hear it all the time: 

• Our other dogs didn't eat everything in the yard
• Our other dogs didn't leap up 5 foot high and try to grab the hood on our jackets
• Our other dogs picked specific poo spots and didn't go crop dusting around on the run
• Our other dogs liked their food
• Our other dogs didn't eat the deck
• Out other dogs didn't stomp on us at night after going for walks and then playing soccer in the back yard
• Our other dogs sang the song of their people and all you do is yap. Oh wait, Loki yapped... DON'T BE A LOKI
• Our other dogs didn't nose slam us in the... oh wait, they did, never mind
• Our other dogs loved to play with boxes and packing paper, what is wrong with you???

I really don't appreciate this crinkly stuff around my neck thank you very much

 I'd like to point out that I have NOT chewed anyone shoes, I have not destroyed any books, journals, planners, pens, computers, wires... ok, fine, I may have sampled the coffee table a bit, but not lately and it only added a rustic patina which is worth thousands, and I may have gnawed that wooden filing cabinet a little and no, you can't put the pull knobs back on because those were especially tasty, but still... and I have tore up the wall any more, mainly because you put a gate panel over it, and I've barely even sniffed the carpet in those 2 or 3 spots in over a month... thanks to the area rugs on top of them... but I've been so good lately.

So, up until a while ago, I've been learning all of the "NO" things, but I turned that around to my advantage. The humans are so simple that I've turned "NO" into a treat opportunity.

NO ROCKS... means I get a treat for spitting out my rock, and frankly there are millions of rocks in that back yard so I'm going to be treated very well.

OMFINGGGETOFFME means I get to play with the flailing arms as I leap as high as I can and pinch whatever fat is available.

LEAVEMYFOODALONE means I get a tasty kong treat inside my crate while the humans eat.

WTFISWRONGWITHYOU means that I'll get to run around the yard with whatever strange plant thing with long roots that I've pulled out of the ground until I get tired and then I'll get a treat when I spit it out, or eat it, whichever comes first, it's a win-win.

CASEYGETINYOURSPOT happens at bed time when Toast tries to get into his spot and I steal it and refuse to move. This has started the bedtime treat ritual where Bleeder holds my attention with treats until Toast gets into bed... then I run over and steal Bleeder's spot, but she's pretty ruthless when it comes to bed spots, so I move pretty quickly out of the way.

Nobody here, just get into bed so I can pinch your fat.

That all changed up though. There are a lot less "NO" now. I'm getting a lot of "GOOD GIRL" and treats for doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!  Seriously! I can just be laying on the couch watching the neighbors and out of the blue, there's a good girl and a treat! If I'm laying on the floor while Bleeder plays her bass, I get a good girl and treat. When I'm outside and leap on them, they turn their backs, wait for me to get in front of them, they tell me to sit, then I get a treat when I do.

If I'm snorfling for rocks or vines, or whatever, they offer me a treat instead, especially if I come running over and sit. Of course I can't help myself with a little flourish by running, leaping up and sitting, just because I'm not a shill for treats at all.

If I'm REALLY intent on doing evil, they tell me Peanut Butter Cookie, and who can resist that. I have my own bin of cookies.

Part of my new responsibilities are: customs agent. No packages can pass until fully inspected.

Guarding the yard from that stupid dove that keeps landing and strutting around like it owns the place.

Best of all, our new partnership of yes means that I can eat my food where it is most convenient for me. I don't like being in the kitchen all by myself, sometimes I like to watch tv and eat or lay near the air vent and snack.

I'm kinda liking the new "yes" phase, and the humans seem less stressed when we all cooperate and get what we want. As a matter of fact, today I've been promised a new bed cushion and something called "Bully Bones", as they want me to use my teeth for good and not evil.

Casey

Woo Is Me

 Bleeder and Toast are no fun.

They've thrown away all of my fluffy toys and my stringy toys because something about I'm not supposed to eat them.

Look, I have centuries of my wild kin built into my DNA and I know full well that when you kill your prey, you eat it, whether it be that bird that keeps taunting me in the yard and has since "disappeared" (and I swear, I don't know where all of those feathers came from, you've inspected my poo Bleeder, there is no evidence I had anything to do with it), or an annoying squeaky toy filled with fluff, or that tasty rug tug toy.

So I LITERALLY do not have anything to play with now

Nothing at all.

If only I had something to play with...

They also buy me things that spontaneously explode.

Wicked Bone #2 R.I.Pieces.

They refuse to hold my chew bones.

They also sneak around and eat MY peanut butter cookies!

I can hear you chewing in there Bleeder!!!

On the bright side, it is getting MUCH cooler outside, so it's nicer to sit on the deck and watch things like airplanes and honky geese.

Plus I can get my frisky on

Bleeder spent some time yesterday clearing out all of the clutter from under the deck because somepuppy was investigating things that "she shouldn't be getting into"... pffft.

Since I have no toys or nothing to chew on, I've taken to finding tasty rocks to gnaw on, which apparently is not acceptable to Toast and Bleeder, so they did build me a nice rock repository... except they blocked it off with chicken wire and wheel barrow walls.  What the fluff?

The good news is that there is lovely dirt under there that is ripe for digging, and so I do, thank you very much.

Today, I'm told, we'll be doing our daily walk in a very exciting new place. I really enjoy our evening neighborhood strolls, as I get to sniff new things, meet new puppies, and also poop in a new yard every time... Toast is not happy about this, as he's poo picker-upper, and for some reason in the evening, my poo is not exactly as firm as usual... hehehe.

Casey.

A Day in the Life

 Good Morning everyone,

I certainly hope you had a restful weekend and were awaken by the gentle kisses of a loved one, or as the Bleeder puts it: "GET YOUR TONGUE OUT OF MY EAR, IT'S ONLY 4a.m.!!!"

Back when I first arrived here, I would not take that for a suitable answer, and would proceed to stomp on the Bleeder and Toast, and also pull on Bleeder's hair, which may explain why she's had most of her hair chopped off and now looks like a 14 year old boy, but that's just my opinion.

Since my operation recovery, they just open the door in the mornings and let me free range in the yard. No more "OMG DON'T EAT THAT!" or "STOP LICKING THAT TOAD" (please note, the toads in Maryland are not poisonous, but they don't exactly taste good). I can eat all of the sticks I want, and leaves, and strange things that fall from the sky and Bleeder just sits there, sipping coffee and muttering "don't blame me if you die". (Also please note: Bleeder and Toast have gone to great lengths to keep me from getting something horrible, so stop dialing the SPCA and put down the phone).

I'm a grazer. I love grass. Despite the attempts of Bleeder and Toast to grow a luscious yard of Better Homes and Gardens worthy yard, I have taken it upon myself to eat it all.

During the week, there is a routine where I get crated, but Toast is working from home, so I nap most of the day (which he calls "core hours") and then wait for Bleeder to get home so we can play. Unfortunately it has been so hot (how hot is it?) that my delicious grass is crunchy, and Bleeder sweats through her clothes and pretty much refuses to run around the yard and chase me with the reusable leaf bag, which is great fun.

On the weekends it is nothing but nonstop fun. They bought me a bell to ring when I want to go out. Originally, I had to tell them by leaping up and clawing my way down the coat closet door (because that's where my leash used to hang), which was strenuous. Now all I have to do is walk to the kitchen door and jingle the bells... which I do often. A lot of the time I come in, wait for them to get settled, then ring the bells. Great fun! 

They did try to get those voice recorded buttons that you see snooty poodles using to "communicate" with their humans. Bleeder recorded herself saying "go outside"... put the button on the floor, and I ran out the battery batting that sucker around the kitchen and dancing. So now I have bells hanging on the wall.

I chew things. Everything. I especially love to chew squeaky toys, which is why I don't have any squeaky toys any more... something about "I'm not supposed to EAT the fluff". My pull ropes were taken away after I pooped a lovely string poo. Now I'm only allowed to have things that I can't eat, like chew bones, kongs, and some fire hose toys that make a pathetic honking noise and are not fun to chew or play with. I do have a myriad of balls, and the trusty soccer ball, while chewed, still gets thrown, to my happiness.

Here is how you announce that you are about to pounce on the occupant on the other side of the couch:

I'm not a fan of the camera... at all.

Here is how you sleep so that you get Bleeder's undivided attention and her telling you that you are going to fall off the couch over and over until you fall off the couch. You then blame Bleeder for falling off the couch:

Despite the heat, I rather enjoy cooking on the deck in the sweltering heat.

Then I come inside and air out.

I've been challenged to defeat the evil "Simple Human Butterfly Trash can". They claim that no husky has ever figured out the puzzle, and I'm up for that challenge.

In the evenings, when it cools down, Bleeder and Toast put their pants on and take me for lovely walks through the neighborhood. I love the new sights and sniffs, and there's always some great pee mail to read along the way at the fire hydrant. I'm always finding new things to carry with me until they make me spit it out, like the interesting orange peel, the plastic container, the dead thing in the middle of the road...

I'm a simple girl with simple needs and one of those needs is that prior to retiring to bed, I must have my 2nd poo or else I play trampoline and ricochet bitey face on the new expensive bed. I've made myself very clear on this matter, and yet the humans try to circumvent the routine and pay for it dearly by having to put pants on again and chase me around the yard with the leaf bag until such time that I am ready to make my deposit. If we are on a walk, that means I make my deposits right on the road... I feel this is polite, as I don't want to poo on perfectly tasty grass.

So, that's about it. A simple life for a glamorous husky. 

Back to Normal for a Husky

 Well, it's been a craptastic recovery period, but I'm pleased to say that I'm back to normal now... as normal as a husky can get.

After getting the annoying strings removed, the vet said that I was off restrictions and hoo boy did I have lost time to make up.

Hey, I'm ready for these strings to come out, hurry up!

I started off with running around like a scalded weasel in the back yard, the house, ricocheting off the bed, the couch, Toast, and then clawing Bleeder. Her arms had mostly healed and we just can't have that, now can we.

With the stupid inflatable pillow off my neck I was able to nap finally.

Napping

More napping using my Bleeder pillow

Since I had ripped the wheel off my WickedBone during my recovery (pent up frustrations), Bleeder got me a new one with fancy blue wheels. Place your bets on how long this one lasts.

There was also digging. Lots of digging... I love digging.

I'm particularly pleased with this hole under the deck. I swear I smelled Chinese food.

Trophy picture

I was also able to sufficiently eat my kongs with a little help from my handy kong holder

And chew my bones... if only someone would hold it for me.

I can go on walks, and have the run of the yard to freely eat sticks and weeds and clumps of grass, and bugs, and whatever I want because apparently Bleeder has given up trying to deter me from doing husky things and just lets me be. There appears to be one solid rule she won't let go, and that's digging near the fence. She puts my poo in those holes... euw.

I have to admit that I'm being a small pain in the ass with listening to directions and doing what I'm told, but that's just my teenage years talking. I do what I want, and if I want to try to fish fresh toilet paper out of the human drinking bowl after they stand up, then that's what I'm going to do.

You want me to stop jumping on you? I don't think so, I don't care if you are "in the middle of doing something, I want attention right this very moment". Don't turn your back on my because I can jump pretty high and pinch that back arm flab (yes, I'm talking to you Bleeder, how about some upper arm exercise?)

They've tried the shaker can so often I now know it just makes a loud noise so I bark back at it, and then the spray bottle... I will get that spray bottle and then we'll see just how happy they are when I chew holes in it.

I'm also not talking to them because they got a new bed and it's a bit higher than the old bed, but they didn't tell me that when I carefully gauged my leap based on the old bed and flopped like a fish to the floor. I'll give them a pass, as it's a pretty comfy bed, but only this time.

Excuse me, I have to go find something of theirs to chew on for no reason. Nope, no spite revenge here, just your average husky.

Casey

I Want a Refund

 This spaycation has been HORRIBLE!

I was expecting a tropical island where someone would fetch me fresh sticks and a cool drink while I lounged on the beach.

Sure, the Bleeder and Toast has been home with me the whole time, but it's been nothing but NO!

No jumping off/on the couch

No RUNNING

NO jumping on the bed

NO JUMPING OFF THE BED

NO jumping

NO running

No licking that thing in my stomach

NOBITING

NO, NO, NO, NO!!!!

I've had to wear a myriad of stupid things around my neck for NO GOOD REASON.

 AND THEY SHAVED MY BELLY! This was not the bikini wax I was promised!

I did find one very good use for the neck pillow... using it to ram into the human's legs when I was displeased....  The neck pillow started leaking air and I thought AHA I shall be be free of this cursed contraption, but nooooo

This horrible, infernal monstrosity was strapped to my neck. What the ever loving heckin in this!!!!

I could hear them snickering when I tried to eat or drink.

I did NOT look like a vacuum cleaner, or a trash can (yes, I read Bleeder's facebook posts, I know who you all are, laughing and snickering at me)

Toast kept telling me it was a matter of days until it would come off, but seriously? A matter of days to humans are X7 to me, so that was an eternity!

Then this happened.

I developed a bump. A freak out bump. A "this is what happens when you don't listen to us" bump. A "you may need to go have more sutures put in and this crap starts all over bump", and a trip to the vet.

I hadn't been out of the house much for a week, so when they took me out on a collar and not my super svelte RuffWear Webmaster harness, I felt that I was totally entitled to leap and spin and skitter, and pull, and general go wild outside, then inside my sweet ride. Bleeder was frazzled trying to keep me from leaping into the front seat. Come on, it's a self driving car, Toast doesn't need to do anything, right?

We got to the vet and to Bleeder and Toast's relief, the vet came out to see us on the nice, shady grass near the clinic (they were very busy and full, and squeezed us in because Countryside Vet Clinic is the BEST clinic with the BEST vets in the entire state of Maryland and I will fight you about that if you disagree).

Dr. Thumel gave me a thorough exam and determined it wasn't a hernia and not an abscess, but a Seroma. He prescribed some antibiotics as a precaution, and some pills he said would take the edge off the husky in me so the humans could relax a bit. When they asked for some Xanax for themselves, he laughed and laughed, so I guess that was a "no". About time someone told them "No" for a change.

My, my, my, my Seroma should resolve itself in a few weeks.

We went home, and I was a bit worn out from all of the excitement and napped for a bit.

Bleeder went out for foodables and came back with a new, stylish blow up neck collar for me. I also got my pills and whooo boy... that Trazadone stuff made everything taste so wonderful, and the colors were so bright, and wow, I'm a bit sleepy.

So after that I've been allowed to do my usual duties: go outside on the leash and be allowed to play a little with the leash dragging, go downstairs and help with laundry, but I really need to practice hiding the socklet in my mouth because Bleeder catches me every time, and I inspected the trash while it was being gathered, and I can also keep an eye on the neighborhood. I can also do my favorite activity: run down the deck stairs, run to the fence, stir up the yappy neighbor dogs and then skitter away when their humans yell at them.

Mainly I've been going crazy and racing around the house (the Trazadone can't keep me down), then I will nap in the sun, the couch, or watch the airplanes take off... I like watching the airplanes.

I've been told that tomorrow at 4pm I will get my sutures out, which means no more cone head, but I still have to be leash walked... yeah, riiiiight.

For some odd reason, the Bleeder is really looking forward to getting back to work. Something about being able to sleep peacefully there.

Spaycation

 *Spaycation

Not what I wanted

Spaycation

Get this cone away

Spaycation

You'll pay once you are alone

I knew something was up last week when Toast and Bleeder took me to the vet and they poked, prodded, took my blood and did all manner of why are you touching me there things.

We got to go in together, which was weird, normally they sit in my car and relax after they hand me off to some stranger who does things I don't want them to do. We sat in the waiting room, and frankly I was not a fan of this. Some huge old lab yelled at me continuously. I'm not on your lawn, sir, and I'm not wearing pants so I'm not sure how you expect me to pull them up. There was some other yappy type dog that we were told over and over was "friendly", but Toast and Bleeder insisted its owner reel in that flexie leash and keep it on its side of the clinic. the owner finally did when she bared her battle scarred arms to the owner. I simply sat and took in this very loud chaos. There were some issues with standing on the scale because I was very distracted.

The vet (who I kissed) pronounced that I was perfectly healthy and then took my blood. Rude. Afterwards I was allowed to smell the clinic pee-mail spot and then we went home.

Fast forward to a week later and I'm denied breakfast (the horror) and all treats (WHAT THE FLUFF), and once again, taken to the clinic and escorted inside where a dinosaur tried to kill me. Bleeder says it was a german shepherd, but still, it was not friendly, so half of the staff and Toast and Bleeder moved me to safety while the slathering hell beast was escorted outside. I'm sensing a pattern with this place and I would prefer never going back.

I assumed it would be the usual go into a room, poke, prod, go home for breakfast thing, but noooo. Bleeder gave some stranger my leash, waved toodaloo and they LEFT ME.

After that, everything is a blur, but I woke up wearing this HUGE plastic cone thing on my head, in a cage, and my stomach hurt. Later it was explained that I was spayed. Would have been nice information before this whole thing, so I'll speak to them about timing, and notifications. They shaved my belly fluff. THEY SHAVED MY BELL FLUFF!!!

I have to admit, I was feeling no pain on the way out of the clinic. The cone thing was pretty heavy, so I may have face planted it a few times to where Toast had to walk beside me and hold it up. I refused to pee, so we went home. Bleeder in the back seat with me as always, I kept looking up at her and slashing her face with the cone... oh darn, so sorry, sucks to be you. One nice part of the cone is that I could point my face at the air conditioning duct and all of the cold air washed into it.

Toast carried me upstairs where they transferred the big plastic cone to a more comfortable pillow thing. I still hate it, and I hate the people I live with.

Apparently for the next 10 days I can't jump up and down on things, I can't skitter, I can't play, I can't run through the yard and chase balls, I can't dash to the fence line, stir up the yappy neighbor dogs and skitter away gleefully, I can't jump on the couch or bed, I'm supposed to walk calmly down the stairs... SERIOUSLY?  I can't counter surf, or play on slippery surfaces. I'm also not supposed to rip out the sutures holding me together. So many rules... so many. This is such crap.

I mean, come on.... look at this:

I could easily use the tasty coffee table as a launch pad, but it does hurt when I leap up on things that I'm not supposed to leap on (and yes, I've been leaping). Thanks to some pain relievers, I feel perfectly fine... which is why they are being withheld until such time that I clearly need them. Yesterday I was leaping and jumping and snapping with glee because I felt so well... I even got to go downstairs (leashed) and out into the yard (leashed) and tried to do what Bleeder claimed are "silly things" so my restrictions are a bit more harsh now. I know it's all for my health and safety, but huskies gonna husky.

My day is usually spent trying to find a comfortable position:

Kinda like the built in pillow

Beds are difficult

When I get too rambunctious, this happens.

Banished

One of the upsides is that I did get a new comfy Lazy-Boy bed

But seriously, it's day 2 with 8 more days of this to go and I'm seriously over this. I only wish I had opposable thumbs so that I could grasp sharp objects, pop this balloon and then get my way.

Casey

* My apologies to the rock group The Go-Go's for use of their song "Vacation"