The Dog ate their Homework!!

Good grief people!!! I swear, I write three serious blogs in a row and people get twelve ways to CRAZY......sigh.......

This is another in a series of TRUE stories about things my much beloved, and sadly departed, Dalmations ate/desroyed....

Othello was a Mama's Boy to the core! He also had seperation anxiety. I never knew what destruction would await when I came home.
Fortuneatly, I never had the money to buy nice stuff....so USUALLY what he demolished was not of value....USUALLY.
And NO I didn't crate him because he would hurt himself trying to get OUT of the crate because he was SO upset Mommmy was going bye-bye. So, I decided to take my chances with the destruction.

Plus, I found out he could READ! One time I came home to find three specific CD'S chewed to bits (yeah...indestructable my ass...).
And ALL three CD'S were by the SAME group....The Squirrel Nut Zippers...(cool band, google them, they rock!)
Apparently, he thought the band title was an ingredient list...not sure.

ANYWAY......
My hubby is an English Teacher, and ALWAYS has tons of papers waiting to be graded. Reaserch Papers took oodles of time because he has to make sure the little darlings didn't steal it off the internet.
He had a huge pile of said papers stuffed into his briefcase, along with a bag of Malted Milk Balls. Ya GOTTA have some chocolate when you grade.

For reason's unknown, he LEFT the briefcase on the floor....WELL within Othello's grasp. We left to run to the store.
Now, I love my husband, but he has a slow learning curve for some things.By this point, Othello had already destroyed/eaten: Two TV Remotes, a pair of slick, black dress shoes and MANY books....ALL left by my husband within the "Othello Zone", as we called it.
WHY he didn't think to move that dang briefcase, I'll never know.

When we arrive, I was the first in the door.
Paper bits were EVERYWHERE!!!! Along with shreds of black leather from the briefcase....and a tiny bit of plastic from the Malted Milk Balls.

And Othello was smiling his gorgeous smile, as always....with a bit of chocolate on his nose.
Now MY first concern is that my dog just ate an ENTIRE bag of chocolate, which is VERY toxic to dogs!!!
Blessedly, he was a giant sized Dalmation, and the chocolate didn't effect him one BIT!! Over the years, we discovered that my Baby Boy had a cast iron stomache. The things he ate that NEVER hurt him or made him sick is STAGGERING!!!
Including: batteries, a rock, and ANOTHER bag of Halloween candy. Wrappers and all. Only thing THAT did was cause him to poop out Reese Cup wrappers for a few days.
SIGH...............

However....the breifcase was a TOTAL loss.....as were ALL OF THOSE RESEACH PAPERS!!!!!
Yes, it's true.....the Dog Ate the Homework.....ALL of it......

I didn't know if my husband was going to CRY or have a coronary. Or both.

The HARDEST part, for him, was to go back to School and tell his students that the Teachers Dog had indeed eaten their Homework.

And yes, he he made them do it all AGAIN....meanie....

Cheyenne - I love you - Goodbye

Cheyenne is gone. It happened Monday. She was ready, but it still hurts.

Cheyenne was a Golden Retriever/Yellow Lab mix. She spent most of her life being "the dog"....NOT family.
The family that owned her before were not loving people. Not kind people.
The dumbass, worthless daughter pawned poor Cheyenne off on her elderly parents when she was about 10 years old.
She lost interest.
A ten year old dog isn't "fun" anymore.
The selfish biznitch might have to....."work".
HEAVEN forbid!
So the elderly father did his best.
But he was married to the "Wicked Witch of Fort Wayne".
Evil, hateful old woman.
She did not want Cheyenne in the house for fear she might get fur in her pristine home.
I will spare you the details, but eventually Cheyenne was sent to the garage.
To live.
Or die.
14 year old bones. NO bed. Lying on the hard cement floor.
Day after day.
Potty in the Garage.
Sleep in the Garage.
Die in the Garage.
A good friend of mine and I basically lied our (CUTE!!) little arses off to get poor Cheyenne out of the goulag.
When I finally got her, she was 14 years old.
Her hair was falling out in clumps.
She was SEVERLY malnourished and dehydrated.
She had an untreated Urinanry Tract infection that had been working on her frail system for MONTHS.
It permanently damaged her kidneys and bladder.
I was afraid she would not make it through the weekend.
That was August 4th, 2008.

Amazingly, after my husband and I got her some medicine, GOOD food, water and an orthapedic bed, she not only improved, she FLOURISHED!!!
She romped in the yard! Chased squirrels! Balls! Dug holes (yeah, THANKS Obie!! Why do they ONLY teach each other the NAUGHTY stuff???). She went on walks and rolled in green grass!
She sat on the couch. Ate pizza crust (her favorite!)! I cooked her meat (I don't cook my HUSBAND meat!!).
She was loved.
Viola, our HUGE Maine Coon would sleep with her each night.
Viola is sleeping on Cheyenn's bed right now.....alone.
Evenyually, poor Cheyenne's body began to break down.
She turned 15 in October.
She stopped eating. Stopped drinking. Stopped romping.
She was READY, I know it. I could tell.
Her eyes said "Okay, seriously? I'm just done now."
I know it was the right thing to do to have her put down. She was ready, it was time.
Why does it still HURT so bad?
Since Febuary 2008, I have lost 5 of my children.
Othello (my most PRECIOUS baby boy) at 13, Molly (Travis' baby, VERY hard for him, VERY hard) also at 13 yrs, Milton (8 1/2 year old ferret...OLD for ferrets!!), and poor sweet Angelou to the..."incident"
It's in my blogs. Don't want to talk about it anymore.
And now Cheyenne.
So, I am left with 6 babies.
3 cats. 2 dogs. 1 ferret.
The house feels oddly empty.
I told the others they are FORBIDDEN to die!!! Or they will be in SERIOUS trouble!!!!
I'll let you know if that works.
Seriously, I need a break. I just cannot DO this anymore. Not for awhile.
The death. Saying Good-Bye. Ashes. The "room" in the Vets office.
It hurts too much.
It sits in my brain. In my soul.

Oh, hey, THIS is fun. The evil old woman who sent Cheyenne to the goulag called my Vet.
She wants my address. Wants to send me a "note".
Can't WAIT for that.

But would I do it again? Take in an animal I knew had a short life span ahead. To help them. To show them some peace and love and comfort in their last days?
Even if it ripped out my soul one more time.
YES.
Always.
It's what I do.
It's WHY I am here.

Therapy

You know what is REALLY good therapy? Sunshine. Playing with my dogs. Talking to a good friend. And ranting on my blog!
Ahhhhhh......you should try it! And MUCH cheaper that ACTUAL therapy too!