Just Checking In

 Pretty uneventful week so far.

I'm still getting used to not having a fun tree to chase squirrels up. 

Initially they came into the yard, but then got very confused about where the tree went and how to get over the fence to the safety of the neighbor's shed roof.

I almost felt bad for them, because they wandered around aimlessly, seemingly forgetting that the world's best squirrel stalker was sneaky sneaking up to them. I could see their little pea sized brains melting trying to figure things out.

I didn't feel it very sporting to take advantage of their confusion, I mean where's the fun in that? I gave them every advantage, including running up to one carrying a giant stick and it just stood there in vapor lock for a bit until Bleeder got concerned and chased it into the other tree.

Since then, they don't like coming into the yard. I can tell their spirit is broken. They don't sit there taunting me any more. The moment the deck door opens, they scatter and head for the other yards. 

In the meantime I'm having fun not only digging in the wood chip pile (that is slowly disappearing while the holes I've carefully crafted are become full of... wood chips), and also climbing on Mount Blue Tarp.

This weekend Bleeder and Toast spent most of Saturday shoveling and transporting a LOT of tasty and sniffy dirt. As Bleeder put it "Five tons of F'ing topsoil". They then put it on a blue tarp, and then covered it with another blue tarp and created a fun new adventure for me: Mount Blue Tarp. Apparently top soil sits on top of the soil on a tarp. I really don't get the humans.

They've also blocked off a corner part of the yard. That part was perfectly fine because it was full of weeds and soft dirt for me to dig into, but they felt that it needed to be raised and have grass growing on it. I'll never figure humans out. So the Top Soil goes on top of that dirt, then they throw some grass seeds and straw on it and erect a barrier. 

Here's the thing about huskies... we only want to go where we aren't allowed to go, therefore I REALLY want to get into that barrier. They had some cheese plastic fencing and that was EASY PEASY to break into. They've since erected a more sturdy barrier around it and I'm doing my best to break in. (side note, I went out while crafting this missive and breached the barrier... Toast was not happy).

Oh, the pill thing... yeah, that's going well because I'm richly rewarded for each pill I take. They have swapped to a 3 times a day pill because I don't know why, but they try to hide the pills in tasty foodables and I'm a chewer. I'll chew water. They've taught me to chew things because they didn't like how I gulped stuff, so this is what they've taught me, deal with it humans. 

This also means that we have to stay up later at night, and so far I'm fine with that because i just take a late nap before bed time... the humans... well, they were a bit bleary eyed this morning due to the FIVE TONS OF DIRT event and then going to bed later, then getting up at the crack of not even dawn yet.

I feel their bleary eyes will miss tasty things laying about which is a win-win for me.

Meanwhile, I ate the brains out of my new gigantic octopus toy and it went to a farm in Northern Pennsylvania, also known as the trash can.

So, yeah, a normal week.

-Casey-

Lee Pill Day 2

 So, the humans were given a bunch of pills that size of a small comet that they had to make sure that I got every 12 hours.  The catch is: they are extended release capsules, and I can't chew them or else they'll release too much stuff for my system to handle.

No pressure there at all. Giving a Siberian Husky two pills and not expecting them to chew. AHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA! It's like asking Bleeder to match her work clothes. IMPOSSIBLE.

Toast holds me on the kitchen floor, Bleeder pills. Day one, they got the first one down, but I quickly figured what was going on and managed to flick my tongue on number two and chew. They roughly removed the piece from my mouth... tried again, same thing. 

She finally got a second pill in, but by that time they were a nervous wreck.

I didn't take into account that Bleeder used to do this kind of stuff in her wayback life. For the nightly pill I was unceremoniously plopped on the EXTREMELY slippery new coffee table (they got rid of my favorite chew toy and replaced it with one that had a top that lifts up to make a handy shelf to eat on... and amazingly enough is right at my head level when I sit between them for meals for long tongue stealing of french fries.)

Toast still holds me (more so to keep me from sliding off the table) and Bleeder proceeds to stick her entire arm into my throat.

 At least that's what it feels like. Not once, but TWICE!

Sure I get a lot of tasty "good girl" treats at the beginning, middle, and end, but I'm not crazy about this new "routine". She could also wash her hands before that because I have no idea what she's been into.

Usually I'm a bit frisky after that, being violated and all, so I take out my frustrations on Mr. Buttons Bear... who sadly is now half unstuffed, as he spontaneously exploded.

Then I usually nap a bit, which freaks out Toast because "what kind of life is that..."

Well, yesterday or so, after my nap, I came outside where Toast was putting together some kind of gigantic lawn wheel that you add water and squish dirt with. It looks like great fun, and I decided he needed help assembling it, so when he put the piece of tasty, tasty cardboard down that held all of the tiny washers, screws, and round thingies behind a protective plastic film, I felt that was his way of saying that I would remove all of those things from the plastic by running around the yard with it.

From his reaction, I think I misinterpreted his instructions, but I was also helpful gathering up everything, but he didn't seem very pleased with that either and kept telling me to spit them out as I ran around the yard and then into the house for my afternoon nap. All parts were accounted for, and I found a very comfortable position to doze.

May Cause Sedation

"What are the side effects of the Lee Pill" Bleeder and Toast asked the Neurologist.

Sedation was the answer.

Friday morning, after my first dose of the Lee Pill, I was very sleepy. VERY sleepy. Extremely sleepy. I was sleepy all day, and kind of wonky. 

Before all of this, they joked about my lack of coordination and lack of spacial awareness and propensity to run head first into walls, trip over my own feet, and fall up the stairs. They nicknamed me Grace, well one of my nicknames. I go by boop, Griselda Gunderson, Gladys Kravitz, OMG stop drinking my coffee, and GET OFF MY CHEST! Bleeder's favorite nickname for me is: OFFS I need another bandaid. But now I'm even WORSE?

Anyway, Toast was very concerned. What kind of life will she have if she's barely coherent, not frisky, stumbley, and not drinking our coffee? He was very upset.

He didn't have to worry, I had a VERY busy day on Thursday! I got to play outside in the morning with my favorite band-aid covered Caribou, then I did a lot of inside skittering once the clouds of smoke from Canada settled in.

Then we got all harnessed up, which is an Olympic sport around here, and my constant leaping at the door every time Bleeder touched the doorknob (she refuses to open it until I'm sitting for more than .3 seconds), then a quick walk outside (and poop) in the front yard, down the street and back while Toast prepared my ride. Then a car drive, where I appreciated the Orvis new foot pillow that gives me extra backseat sprawl space and allows me to shove my nose in the A/C vent, and snazzy Orvis back seat cover, which captures my fluffs instead of allowing them to float around like some insane snow globe. Size Large for Tesla Model X backseat, and nope, I don't get a single thing from Orvis, but I'd appreciate some of their large stuffie dog toys, just sayin.

Anyway, once we got to the hospital place, there were sniffs to be had, and peeing to be done, and walking all over because we were early, and then going into the place and it's got all the sniffs, and then there were other pups there and I wanted to meet all of them, but Bleeder said no because they were injured puppers and didn't want to be bothered, and there were people sitting without puppers so I tried to drag Bleeder to them, but she said no, they were busy being worried about their own puppers and didn't need a hot, fluff spewing nose rocket attacking them.

I was told to sit on the floor, which turned out to be a scale (devious... very devious) and then we waited. I got some bottled water from a bowl and tried to drag Bleeder all over to sniff things and go into room, and greet new people and help with the filing.

Then I got to meet some nice technicians and get scritches, and then I got to meet the doctor and got scritches and then tortured and manipulated and that wasn't fun, then after that we had to wait for the paperwork and a prescription to fill and then back outside for more walking and sniffing, and then the car ride home and holy hannah I was EXHAUSTED from all that, so yes, I took a bit of a vacation on Friday and it wasn't all the medicine. Can't a pup nap all day and recuperate?

I was even too tired to Gladys Kravitz out the window for long periods of time and was so pathetic that Toast went and got his pillow for me to lay on.

The pillow came in handy when the tree stealers came, cut down my beloved oak tree. That oak tree deposited the tastiest of dead branches ever.

I take ONE nap and this is what happens?

WAIT! I took another nap and it imploded?

For those of you wondering, the devious humans told the stump grinder guy to not go near the fence line and leave part of the tree near the fence in place so that I couldn't dig. They didn't want a big hole near the fence.

Devious.

So, that was day 1 of my Lee Pill. Tune in tomorrow for day 2

Take A Seat, This Is a Long One

 Well hello everyone!

In March, a few days after I took my Heartworm pill, I had a seizure.

It was very scary for Toast, who was home alone with me, and he thought I was choking on something and dying because I tried to throw up, fell over and started convulsing.

Bleeder drove home from work as quickly as possible and came into the door and I'm all waggy tailed and excited because Bleeder was excited and I figured I needed to be excited too because one moment I'm at the back of the hallway, and the next moment I'm in the living room and I thought I had mastered the power of space age beaming technology.

Once Bleeder watched the video, she realized that I had a seizure, so then I got to go to the vet, which is a fun car ride, and have blood drawn, which isn't a fun car ride, and then sit and get scritches while Toast and Bleeder talked to the vet in somber tones and watched the video, which isn't pretty.

All manner of things were discussed and they were told to keep a log (it's bad enough that there's video cameras all over, but now they write down my every bowel movement and sneeze). They mentioned epilepsy, and how I may have that, and how they won't give any pills to control that until I start having 3 seizures within a month, and blah blah blah.

So, for the next month my every move and burp was written down and I just went about my business like normal.

Then I got my heartworm pill in April, and shortly after that my annual vaccines and a few days later while Toast and Bleeder were both home... yep, another seizure. Back to the vet, where they discussed the possibility that it was the heartworm pills, but the vet said "oh no, can't be" and they said "um, pretty sure, seems a bit coincidental here", and the vet said "impossible, nah", and they said "alrighty then" and we went home.

We went back later to get some blood for a very extensive Royal Canin DNA test. It tests for all sorts of things, but mainly whether I have a funky MDR1 gene that collies and other breeds have that make them sick when they use Ivermectin (the main Heartworm pill ingredient).

More notes, more watching me.

In May they said screw it, no heartworm pill. In June they said screw it, no heartworm pill... and no seizures.

Now, this is a risky gambit, because Merryland has mosquitos and those mosquitos have the stupid little buggers that infect us with heartworms, but it seemed to be a definitive demonstration that... it was the heartworm pill. So they did their research and found that ALL heartworm pills are generally the same thing, but ALL heartworm medication now comes with various and sundry other parasite stuff that I probably don't need, but NONE of the heartworm medication is JUST heartworm medication, which is BS. Additionally, EVERY single ingredient in those heartworm pills comes with a seizure warning.

My DNA results came back and I'm purebred Siberian Husky going back a ways. I don't have the funky MDR1 thing, and the vet was also surprised to find that even some of the more obscure common dogs things... I don't have, I'm perfect. I could have told him that without needed to give blood.

They opted to switch to Heartgard Plus. They wanted just plain Heartgard, but they don't make that any more, and you can make whatever assumptions you want about companies that shove unnecessary crap into medications, as Bleeder and Toast have already used every four letter word there is about the subject.

Five days after getting the new stuff... you guessed it. At 4:30 in the morning.

The vet sent us to a neurologist, which we went to on Thursday. Nice guy except for shining things in my eye and clipping things to my skin to watch it crawl and move my legs and pinch my toes and then take my blood.

He feels that I probably have epilepsy, and my trigger is heartworm pills, since that's a neurotoxic designed to kill microfilaria, but not the dog... unless the dog gets too much of it, or like me, is sensitive to it.

To test this feeling, he put me on a drug called Leevetiracetam Extended Release. That's hard to say, so we'll just say Lee pills (or generic Keppra). I'll take these pills for a while until after I've taken my heartworm pill at the end of July to see if I have another seizure. If so, then choices will be made on how to proceed. If not, then in the winter, I'll stop taking heartworm pills and wean off of the Lee pills and see what happens then.

As Bleeder calls it, it's a crap sandwich wrapped in more crap, with a dollop of crap on the top and a side of crap.

So, if you've made it this far, I'm fine. I'm a gimpy now, and what more could you expect since every husky Bleeder and Toast have lived with were gimpies. I'm just coming up with new and exciting ways to drive them stark raving mad sooner.

So you all aren't totally bummed out, I'll post more of my adventures to show you that it's just a thing, it sucks, I'm lucky it isn't worse, and even if it does get worse, I'm in good hands. You should feel bad for Toast and Bleeder because they're losing their minds.

-Casey-

Just Another Week

 I've been too tired to blog because of the exhausting yard work that I've been doing.

Dig, dig, dig, dug, dug, dug, dump the dirt and start over. Apparently it's very hard work to break up soil so grassy grasses will grow in the state of Merryland.

It's really sandy dirt, and clay dirt, and lots of rocks and bottles, and cans, and the trailer tire, the rusty jack, the small fishing vessel, and weeds.

Ok, I put the small fishing vessel in there to make sure you were paying attention.

Don't worry Toast, I won't let this dirt blow away

This dirt isn't very tasty

Get off the dirt pile? Nope.

There's been other work around the house.

We had people come and rip out the old house cold box and replace it with a new house cold box. I approve of this, as the new house cold box makes the house extra chilly and I'm all about the chilly, especially after a hard day of sitting in dirt.

Gotta cool off the nether regions

Then more people came and drilled and hacked and clinked around and viola, we have a water spigot on the back of the house so Bleeder and Toast can water the new grassy grass they are trying to grow... and put a barrier around for some strange reason. Is it going to be like a grass zoo? Come see the Zoysia in its natural habitat.

It's not like I'd run over there and dig it all up and eat it... or something like that... no, not me.

There's going to be more people coming to give me a better window to watch the neighborhood, and also something about cutting down a tree... better not be my favorite tree.

I am enjoying my new coffee table though. It's not as fun as the old coffee table because it's very slippery and I can't walk on it, but it does lift up during dinner time so that my snooter is the exact same height as the plates and well... a pup has to sample things.

Ya gonna eat those scraps?

Toodaloo for now.

-Casey-

Working Breeds Gotta Do It All

This whole Dig Dug the Backyard thing has turned into something annoying. 

I was told we'd be digging holes, which is fun, but there are rules, and one of the rules is: when we cover the holes with soft, sniffy dirt, and then sprinkle them with some form of grass seed, we are NOT allowed to slide in at a run and dig the hole again.

WHAT IS THAT ALL ABOUT???

I lay in the shade until I hear the BLEEP BLOOP SQUEEEEE sound and wait until the first shovel full is pulled out.

Then I race over like a gazelle and get in the way

After my OSHA inspection, a saunter off to inspect other aspects of the work site

This sifter is dirty, it must be cleaned

Then, when the hole is of sufficient size, I must try it on for size.

When I get too rambunctious, Toast asks Bleeder to lure me away and entertain me. Now I don't know about you, but I do like a rousing game of Wolf and Caribou, and when I say Caribou, I mean Bleeder. 

It's all fun and games in the winter because she dons the cloak of protection, and the gloves of security, and the boots of... boots, and we go full tilt fight mode.

In the summer, she can't wear all of that, it's too hot (I get it, I'm furry, it gets hot under all this fur), but we can't rough play... so I suggested that perhaps she get one of those attack dog training outfits, or just wrap herself in bubble wrap. Not only can I chase and attack her, but it would be entertaining rolling her around and popping those things.

That would be fun. Instead she whips out some tasty packing paper and runs shrieking through the yard taunting me with it. That's fun too, but not as fun as bubble wrap.

A New Super Hero Is Born

 I don't talk, so when I want my water bowl filled: I choose violence

When it's time for bed: I throw Fashion Fluffy at Toast then stare at him.

When I want to play: I either launch myself at Bleeder's desk, or leg, and I mountain goat on Toast.

I am VIOLENT PUPPY

Bleeder said "VIOLENT" wouldn't fit... she's worthless

Talons so sharp, they puncture the thickest sleepy pants

Pointy, pointy elbows that jab into the sensitive creases of humans.

Toast claims that when I wake up Bleeder, I'm an adorable little fluffernutter that gently climbs onto her chest and licks her face gently. I'm pretty sure Bleeder will be more than happy to show you the gigantic left upper arm bruise of mammoth proportions that I left when I leapt onto the bed and slammed my front feety feet down there with all of my strength and weight.

Toast is harder to wake up and he's a flinger. He flings his arms around like he's chasing bees away (I've been told NO BEES), so my method of waking him up consists of leaping on the bed, leaping onto him, leaping off of him, and skittering off the bed. Sometimes it takes 2-3 efforts to get him out of bed.

Despite his flinging, he still shares pancakes with me on Sundays, and this Sunday was special... blueberry pancakes, my favorite.

Blueberries give me super powers... the power of napping

K9 Ballistic bed... just go buy it, very comfy

Blueberries help me hoard all of the papers!

Blueberries also helps me with my dig dug job of removing tree roots

I got it, give me a moment!

I'm not violent... just exuberant.

-Casey 

Dig Dug Back Yard

 It should come as no surprise that my humans are really into that Dig Dug Island show. Bunch of people digging up an island to find treasure... well, they have yet to find treasure, but I'm pretty sure they will... never... find... treasure.

Anywhooooo, my humans remind me that they're old (I can't run with you, I'm old, I can't have you ricocheting off of me, I'll fall and break a hip because I'm old, no you can't have a slice of pizza... that's not because they're old, that's because they are also just plain mean), so they keep buying "hobbies" to do once they've thrown off the yoke of toil and stay home with me full time.

I'm all "um... aren't I enough? I have plenty of hobbies we can do together, like rolling in a dead thing, taking a pull in some nice tick and poison ivy infested woods while mosquitos exsanguinate you, and my all time favorite: feed me a slice of pizza".

Back to the hobbies thing... Toast bought a metal detector to find treasure in our back yard... or something. They had one but it couldn't find metal if it was sitting on a metal file cabinet. So, in comes the new one and honestly, I'm having a lot of fun with this hobby. Who knew that digging was an actual "thing"? Especially after 2 plus years of Toast bemoaning "OHMYGAWD she's digging to China, we'll never get grass to grow in the yard".

1.) FYI I would end up off the coast of Perth Australia if I kept digging, not China,

2.) There's never been grass in this yard, you've owned 6 Siberian Huskies!

So after Bleeder gets home from work we all go out in the yard and vent our work-day frustrations (well, I stretch my legs from a full day of napping and snacking), Toast's magic stick makes a bunch of beeping noises. Bleeder starts to dig, then I push her out of the way and look for the tasty grubs, dig some more until a squirrel distracts me, then let her take over again.

Apparently this form of digging is perfectly acceptable when you haul a trailer tire out of the hole. Making a note of that.

Just willy nilly digging for grubs is not ok... digging for moles or tree roots not ok... trailer tire, old beer cans, and a tire jack... ok.

I did get a new toy out of this. It's something called "tree limb and yard debris bin lid". Kind of a long name, so I just refer to it as the giant chewie frizbee.

Just the other day, I figured out why Bleeder was all in on this adventure... apparently if Toast digs up the entire yard she won't have to mow. I'm fine with that. Can't wait for rainy season, that'll be a hoot!

Somebody's Watching Me

The other day I was napping on the deck with Fashion Fluffy and something caught my eye.

There's a little round thing on the deck, and it has an eye, and the eye has a little light on it.

What the fluff? What is that thing?

I saunter up (with my gimpy leg, which is better since this video was taken) to inspect it.

OMG it's a camera!!!  Toast and Bleeder are spying on me!!! 

How long has this thing been recording my every movement? 

Can a puppy NOT have one second of privacy in this house????

Since I knew Bleeder was monitoring me, I decided to give her the what for.

She came out and pointed out that not only is there a camera on the left side, but there's also one on the right. I cut the video because, well, she's dressed in her gawdawful sleepy pants and stained t-shirt and nobody wants to see that.

Toast put them up because when he's working inside, I like to come and alternate between sundog and shadedog. They moved the grill to another spot where I couldn't hide behind it, and watch the neighbors in peace, and now he can see where I'm at, and what I'm doing. No more chewing bits of deck, no more collecting sticks for later gnawing, no more gathering rocks, no more fun.

This is SO UNFAIR!!!

A girl needs her privacy.

Later I held a meeting with Fashion Fluffy to talk about ways to thwart the cameras, but we were interrupted by Bleeder.

You were NOT invited to this meeting, go way.

Chef Boy Are You Stinky

 It should come as absolutely NO surprise that I'm once again picky about my food.

For the record:

1. Chicken gave me the runs
2. Salmon was tasty for about 6 months, then I boycotted the kibble
3. Salmon canned food was tasty for about 6 months after that, but then I boycotted it
4. Beef and Bison kibble was a NO right out of the bag
5. Beef and Bison canned was fine for about 3 months, then meh.
6. Salmon with beef canned food in a bowl smooshed with a warm gravy was fine... until it wasn't.
7. I'll eat if the can is fresh off the shelf
8. I'll eat if the can has been in the fridge, but only when warmed to the perfect temperature.

This is where the issue came in. Oh sure, Toast and Bleeder think there's been an issue since they got me, but that's another thing, the true issue is that Bleeder found the perfect microwave timing and method that got me to eat my food (sprinkle of parmesan was also appreciated), so she wrote down the directions and posted them on the cupboard.

Toast read the instructions, and somehow there was an incident

It smelled horrible... so horrible that I ran out of the dog door.

He immediately called Bleeder to let her know... I could hear her laughing all the way out on the deck.

After that... well, neither the beef, nor salmon was appetizing.

Bleeder got desperate and ordered a new kibble... it's very tasty. I love it. It has "shreds" in it. I don't know what those are, but they're tasty!

I'm going to eat it up to the point where they order several bags of it... then I'll boycott it.

Being a Siberian Husky is so much fun!

Heck of a Weekend

 I'm not amused

It seems that I've managed to hurt myself again, this time my left leg. Once again, Bleeder thinks it's a "tweak" and I just need to stop zooming around like a scalded weasel (I can't even imagine what humans did in the old days to come up with that horrific visual, I'm only assuming it was some form of ghastly entertainment before the interwebs), stop falling into the holes I've dug, and the take it easy for a bit... there's sound and sane advice for a husky.

Toast always jumps to the worst case scenario (bless him) and insisted we go to the vet... and since I've filed my nails to razor sharp points, Bleeder agreed... but if we're going to the vet, I may as well make it worth their while.

So, on Friday, Bleeder cleans out all of the tasty leftovers that have been pushed into the back of the fridge to grow into amazing science experiments and she happened to find some taco meat that hadn't grown hair, and dumped it into the trash bucket. Well, the trash bucket is placed right next to the fridge because Bleeder is lazy and doesn't like walking 2 feet to the maximum security trash container, so while she was head deep into the fridge reaching for what we thought was a celery stalk gone wild... I sampled the taco meat.

It was delicious. Spicy, yet cloying, danced on my palette like a newborn fawn taking its first steps. I got greedy and went for more as Bleeder crawled out of the fridge and I was caught red handed... pawed... something. I managed two nice bites of it before I was summarily banished from the kitchen.

Little did I know that my tasty snack would have some explosive consequences later on. I was mopey throughout the day, but still ate lunch and dinner, so around bedtime when it was time for my nightly constitutional, a volcano of taco meat spewed forth from my fluffy butt. There was collateral damage to my butt fluff that required a warm, wet washcloth and Bleeder having to scrub my po-po fluffs. Humiliating.

Was the snack worth it? It was tasty, but was it firehose diarrhea, butt scrub tasty? Yep. I'd do it again.

So Saturday I was totally back to normal and frisky. I even had some solid non-butt scrubbing required poops. It was a beautiful morning, so we all played and played in the back yard, and then Toast took a shower and put on some pants. I knew something was up because Bleeder also put some pants on, and then my harness went on and WOOT we're going out!

Even though I was pretty tired from all of our yard frolicking, I still had duties to perform.

Oh come on, pass this slow stupid truck

It was the vet appointment. Sigh. I was hoping we'd get to go somewhere more... not the vet.

While we waited to be seen, the very nice technician came in and took notes and then took me into the back and stole my nails. He also stole my blood for some kind of DNA test (I'll fill everyone in on that whole thing later on)

Then the nice doctor came in and turns out he's not a nice doctor because he shined a light in my eyes (um, it's my leg, doc), and then he shined a light in my ears (gotta go a little lower there doc, it's the leg), and then he proceeded to yank, twist, squeeze, bend, inspect, and torture my already injured left leg. He had the gall to do it to the right to "compare". Then he pronounced that nothing was crunchy (there's a relief) everything moved fine, nothing seemed broken, torn, goofy, wacky, or expensive, and was probably a muscle thing. I'm not supposed to do normal husky things (everyone laughed), see how it goes and if it gets worse, then I get some pills.

Afterwards we got to walk along a lovely forest area full of interesting sniffs and smells and I deposited my offering to the forest woodland creatures (I hope they like residual taco meat), and then we went home. 

I slept all day.