Just the Facts #21 Sort Of...

 

“Anybody who doesn't know what soap tastes like never washed a dog.”

 (Franklin P. Jones)

 Woof, Woof to my mommy’s lovely friends!

 

     My mom is having a brain fart (her words, not mine) about what to write for her blog today. After staring over and over at her lap thingy I told her I’ll do it for her today. So, today I give you Scooter facts, Woof! Woof!

 

1. Oh boy, do I love to sleep! Seriously, it's my absolute favorite thing to do. I'm talking all day, all night, whenever, wherever! You could say it's my number one hobby, and I'm a pro at it.

Mommy and Grammy are pretty great about my sleep obsession too, 'cause I've got beds all over the house. There's my cozy little nook right on top of Mommy's big bed – she put that there after my surgery and never took it awat. Then there's my plush dog bed in the TV room, perfect for napping during a good show, and another comfy spot downstairs in the family room. Basically, if there's a soft surface, you can bet I've probably snoozed on it!

 

2.  I'm a dog, and when it comes to mornings, I'm definitely not an early bird! I know most of my canine pals are bouncing off the walls at sunrise, begging to go out, but not me. You'll find me snuggled up in dreamland until Mom finally tells me it's time to head downstairs and start the day. Even when Grammy pops in, I'm usually still sawing logs. What can I say? A dog's gotta get his beauty sleep!

 

3.  You want to hear something funny? My mom, she thinks I'm a picky eater. Can you believe it? The truth is, I love all sorts of food! It's just... well, once you've had the good stuff, that dry, crunchy kibble just doesn't cut it, you know? My mommy, bless her heart, she introduced me to the good life – real food, and oh boy, is it ever yummy!

 

    This week, she whipped up some amazing grub for me. It was so good, but then she said it was all gone. My tail drooped a little, I gotta admit. But then, she showed me some rolls from the freezer and started talking about making me more food today! My ears perked right up – yum, yum, yum!

 

    And speaking of yummy, let's talk treats. I'm a soft treat kind of guy. Forget those hard, tooth-rattling crunchy ones. Give me a nice, chewy Beggin' Strip or some Pupperoni, and I'm one happy pup!

 

4. Woof woof! Listen up, fellow pups and people! You know what makes my tail wag like crazy? Clothes! Yep, I'm a fashion-forward Fido, sporting the latest looks all year 'round. Well, almost all year. When the sun is blazing and it's hotter than a fire hydrant on the Fourth of July, you won't catch me in a sweater. Mommy says I'm "naked" then, but come on, I've got a built-in fur coat! That's practically formal wear in my book.

 

    But oh, my jammies! Those are my absolute favorite. Sometimes, when the snowflakes are really flying, Mommy's the best and lets me lounge in them all day long. It's like a perpetual cuddle puddle! And speaking of clothes, a big shout-out to Grammy! She's the real MVP, always making sure Mommy decks me out in awesome shirts for every single holiday. Thanks, Grammy, you're the best!

 

5.  You wanna talk about my Grammy? Hold on to your leash, 'cause she's the cat's meow... or should I say, the dog's dream! My mom is super, super awesome, but Grammy? She's my main squeeze, my ultimate bestie! When the TV's on, my favorite mission is to commandeer her lap. It's like a cloud made just for me – instant nap zone!

 

    And the late-night shenanigans? Oh boy, do I live for those! Mom used to sneak off to hang with Grammy after dark, and now I'm part of the club. I make a grand entrance, leaping onto Grammy's bed while they gab. Pure bliss! Plus, when Mom's off wrangling kibble at the grocery store, it's just me and Grammy, chilling in the car. We have the best conversations (mostly me asking for treats with my eyes). Yep, Grammy's my forever bestie!

 

6.  Let me tell you a secret: I'm a total toy connoisseur! My house is practically overflowing with them, it's PAW-some! But between you and me, those bouncy, rubbery things? Hard pass. Give me a toy with stuffing, and I'm in heaven! My favorite game? Operation: De-Stuffing! My mommy, bless her heart, knows I'm still attached to my battle-scarred veterans, so she never tosses them. And guess what? She finds the BEST new recruits at the Dollar Tree! I've got so many, they've taken over two whole baskets – one for my upstairs hideout and one for my downstairs kingdom. Of course, a dog's gotta play with his humans! My mommy and grammy are pretty good at the ol' fetch game. I'll bring it back a few times, but then, you know, a pup's gotta have his limits! Time for some serious de-stuffing, maybe!

 

 Woof! This was fun for me and maybe mommy will let me do some other fun things on a Friday blog. Bye!

Time For A Change

 "Life is not easy for any of us. But what of that? We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves. We must believe that we are gifted for something and that this thing must be attained." (Marie Curie)

 

Hello, my lovely friends! 

 

    It has been a while since I’ve done this and I’m truly sorry to you all for that. There was a time the other week that I thought about stopping the blog after ten+ years of doing this. But then I thought about all the things you have been there with me for. My dad, grand parents, uncles, and Bella’s deaths. My health problems with the lumps I found. My mom’s issues, things with Scooter, and my sister. You all sharing things with all of us and us supporting each other as much as we can. How can I let that go? Simply, I can’t and I’m not going to. This little place we have together has been such a safe haven for me that I would miss you all too much. So, I’m not going anywhere. 

 

     It's been a really tough few months, and I feel completely overwhelmed. My mom's health struggles continue, and honestly, Kaiser hasn't been much help. It's incredibly frustrating and heartbreaking to see her in so much pain, a shadow of her former self. She has very limited mobility, and while I encourage her to try and do things for herself so she doesn't feel helpless, her efforts often create more work for me.

 

    Thankfully, she's finally scheduled to get some back injections at the end of this month. I'm really hoping there are no further postponements. On top of that, she's decided to look for new healthcare insurance, as Kaiser simply isn't meeting her needs.

 

     I trust everyone who celebrated the Fourth of July had a fantastic time. For us, the celebration was intense, lasting well into the next day. Our community is known for its widespread fireworks, and this year was no different—it felt like a thousand massive fireworks exploded within just three hours on the Fourth. My mom was particularly anxious, and with good reason. We've had close calls before, including a house in our community that burned down a few years ago. This year, a house in the neighboring community also went up in flames. We did everything we could to keep the little man safe and comfortable: sealing the windows, blasting the A/C, and turning up the TV volume.

 

 The morning after the Fourth of July, I woke up and went through my usual routine. I fed Scooter, but he just sniffed his food and walked away. Sometimes he does that, preferring to graze later, so I didn't think much of it. But then Saturday came and went with no interest in food or water. By Sunday, he still hadn't eaten or had a drink, and worse, he started having bouts of vomiting and diarrhea. Despite this, the strange thing was he was still acting like his normal, energetic self — barking at squirrels and tearing around the yard.

 

    Sunday night was rough. Scooter's symptoms worsened, and I decided then and there that an emergency vet visit was necessary first thing Monday morning. A wave of dread washed over me as I remembered our last ER trip, waiting for hours for anal gland issues. This time, however, the waiting room was empty. They took Scooter in right away.

 

    The veterinary team ran a battery of tests: blood work, an ultrasound, and they even cleared his anal glands. We waited anxiously, but to our immense relief, all the results came back clear. A perfectly healthy dog, according to the tests. So, what was going on?

 

    The vet, after hearing our story, asked about the Fourth of July fireworks. I hadn't considered them a factor, but then it clicked: that was the last time Scooter had eaten or drunk anything. She theorized that the fireworks had completely freaked him out, causing him to shut down. They gave him some fluids and anti-nausea medication, and after a few hours, we took him home with prescriptions to stimulate his appetite and ease his stomach.

 

    Monday was much the same, with Scooter still not quite himself. But by Tuesday, there was a noticeable improvement. He was a bit weak from the lack of food and water, but he finally started eating and drinking again. Now, a week later, Scooter is back to his old self, full of energy and enjoying his meals. It was an expensive trip just to confirm he had a bad case of the jitters, but knowing he's otherwise healthy makes every penny worth it.

 

     That was everything in a nutshell. A crazy week with my mom and Scoots. I missed you all so much and will now be back into the swing of things here. Love you all! 

 

 So glad you stopped by! Wishing you the coziest morning/afternoon/evening ahead. Can't wait for our paths to cross again!

Will be Back on Tuesday

All For You

 

Happy 4th of July

 

It's Your Life

 

Just the Facts #20

 “A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost.” (Pam Brown)

Hello, my lovely friends!

      

    It's another Friday Funday, and you know what that means—time for some more fun! Last week, I chatted all about my sister, and when she read it, she hilariously reminded me of even more antics we got up to that I'd completely forgotten! So, get ready for Part Two of the sister chronicles!

 

1.  When my sister rolled in from college for the summer, our late-night adventures truly began! A few times a week, as the clock struck midnight, we'd embark on our glorious quest for Taco Bell. We'd haul our haul back to the living room, ready to dive into marathon gab sessions that covered absolutely everything under the sun. It was pure bliss. And who was the unsung hero of these nocturnal feasts? My dad, of course! He practically cheered for our leftover tacos, knowing he had a delicious breakfast waiting for him in the morning.

 

2.  My sister and I were absolutely obsessed with Grease! Seriously, we practically had a fan club of two. Our dad's friend at work was our unwitting benefactor, lending us his VHS copy "here and there." "Here and there" quickly turned into "all the time," and bless his heart, for Christmas, he finally just gifted us the tape. From then on, our living room transformed into Rydell High. We didn't just watch Grease, we performed Grease, knowing every single line, every single shimmy, every single "Tell me about it, Stud!" To this day, I'm pretty sure I could nail a solo performance of the entire movie, word for word. It's ingrained in my soul!

 

3.  My sister, bless her entrepreneurial heart, decided our quiet little neighborhood needed a jolt of excitement. Her solution? A block-wide talent show! Before I knew it, she'd strong-armed every kid on the street into participating. And me? Oh, I was about eight, and somehow, she convinced me that the world was clamoring for my soulful rendition of 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.' Meanwhile, she belted out her own number, undoubtedly stealing the show. The best part? She charged a quarter admission! Seriously, the entire block showed up, clutching their coins, ready to witness our glorious (and slightly chaotic) spectacle.

 

4.  Oh man, my sister was truly a saint! She had to haul me and my BFF to all our wrestling events and concerts. Picture this: she's stuck at a New Kids on the Block concert, absolutely drowning in a sea of screaming teens, and then, as if that wasn't enough, I even managed to drag her to a Mötley Crüe show way back when. What a trooper!

 

5.  When my sister was in college, she had this majestic feline named Tattinger. We all wondered how he'd handle the arrival of a tiny human, specifically my nephew Cuinn. The answer? Not well. Tat viewed Cuinn as an intruder, a tiny, squawking nuisance worthy of hisses and the occasional, well-aimed paw-swat. Clearly, my sister's house wasn't big enough for the both of them, so Tat (who already tolerated my own cat) graciously decided to adopt me instead.

 

6.  My sister always got a serious case of Olympic fever! Every time the Games rolled around, she'd transform into a pint-sized, self-proclaimed athlete. One minute she was Nadia Comăneci, attempting gravity-defying (and often gravity-losing) gymnastics moves, and the next she was channeling her inner Dorothy Hamill, complete with the iconic wedge haircut. I'll never forget the time we were roller skating in the basement. Inspired by Dorothy, she attempted some majestic ice-skating jump, only to come crashing down in a heap. Her athletic dreams (and her leg) were bruised, but her spirit remained undeterred... at least until the next Olympics!

 

 So glad you stopped by! Wishing you the coziest morning/afternoon/evening ahead. Can't wait for our paths to cross again!

A Fresh Start