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- Ok, so I didn't exactly pull an Irish Girl, but I did eat some chocolate intended for P's stocking.
- I had cysts, but they were small enough to start fsh anyway.
- I discovered that my ovidrel prescription has refills, but I should have filled it before the 6th so I need a new prescription anyway.
- Some nurses do NOT have a sense of humor or ability to chat.
- Apparently, the time you're scheduled to come in is not always the time they PLAN to see you. For example, my appointment was for 7:15, I was on time, I waited until 7:45 and the nurse commented that they were "right on schedule."
- Some people take, "It seems like I bruise a lot, but not nearly as much with you!" as a compliment!
- Puppies got baths today because they smelled horrible. Then Girl peed on a rug. I washed the rug and put it back. Then Boy peed on the same rug. Washing it again. We haven't had any accidents in weeks, and they both had one today. grr.
This weekend we had our first gift casualty. Girl found and unwrapped one of P's presents for him. P: Uh, thanks for the hat dear.Me: Oh, yeah, you're welcome.Later...P: I got you three presents.Me: I got you two so far, but there are two others that I want you to have.P: Yes, I know. You got me... a hat.Even Later:P: I got a hat for Christmas. What's in the other one? Gloves or a scarf?Me: Shut up.Later still:Me: Do you even like the hat?P: Yeah, I needed one.Me: It's moisture-wicking on the inside. You know, for running.P: I see that.Me: Do you want to just have it now? I could wrap it back up.P: (puts the hat on in an attempt to prevent the re-wrap)
Going to sleep:
P: What are my other presents?
Me: You wanna just go open the other one up?
P: No, I have a hat.
Me: (grumbling) It would've been better with all the other presents.
the answer is:c) all of the aboveI blame TSA for the shampoo thing. Because of my compulsive careful packing, there's really no other way for my bottle to have opened up in the way it did. No matter though, the damage was done. My travel case is pretty well wrecked and I am now out of shampoo.Is there anything that smells worse than cat pee? We left a couple windows open while we were away and then had really high winds that slammed the door to the litter box closet shut. We don't know which day this happened. We did play a rousing post-anniversary game of "find the feces" which is always a romantic treat. Then we realized that they had to have peed somewhere too and we continued the search. My big kitty has a wicked sense of humor and has, in the not-recent past has preferred to pee in symbolic places when he needed to make a point. When I first started dating P and was spending a lot of time away from home, Big Kitty would pee on my dirty clothes that must have smelled like P. This time, however, he left the laundry basket alone so I was stumped.I thought I found the jackpot when I saw a large wet spot on the large puppy pillow. I was laughing inside as I threw it into the washing machine. Leave it to my boy to tell me what he really thinks of having puppies. I was a little surprised that that was the only spot, but we didn't find anything else, so I didn't worry about it.Well, P found the money spot. Someone peed on our bed. It soaked through to the mattress. Back to the basement to wash the sheets and blankets. It's at freezing now, so we need them all clean. It was exactly what I had in mind after our travels. So grateful to be able to wash four loads of laundry in one evening.How do you get pee out of a mattress? Well, I googled "cat pee on mattress" and "remove urine from mattress" and basically I got behavior advice (which I'm not really worried about, the boys never pee outside the box and I believe it was just about not having access and freaking out) and ads for various products.Use vinegar. Vinegar never works, it just smells like vinegar. Begin with cold water. Don't use water because it will spread the urine. I ended up dousing the spot with nature's miracle and then wondering why, after washing my hands fourteen times that I was still smelling cat piss. Oh, it was on my sleeve. Add that to the wash.At this point I had to deal with the wet spot on the bed. And we didn't even get to have fun first. After using a fan and an open window, I tried using a hairdryer to get the bed ready. It worked okay. I put a blanket under the bottom sheet and began to remake the bed. I tested it and nothing seemed to come up. I went to get my comforter from the dryer and it wasn't dry. So I dried it again. And again. And I gave up so it's air-drying in another room (I have since decided to have it professionally cleaned even though I don't see or smell a stain. It's new and I'm neurotic. Sue me.) Then I gathered up my collection of "I'm from the west coast" lightweight blankets and piled them on the bed.The good news: We were not cold in the night.The bad news: P eventually felt some wetness and was uncomfortable. I can still smell the pee and have gone for another round with the rest of the nature's miracle. Have re-googled for tips and cried to my mother. P wants a whole new mattress. I have re-washed the bottom sheet and under-blanket. Again.
It's all about me. I'm naughty, of course, but my natural cuteness has saved me from exile on more than one occasion. Mom used to threaten me with the dumpster, but not for a while now. Either I have her completely charmed or else that dumpster thing was always a load of crap. Speaking of which, I made a smelly one this morning! Oh, it was fabulous. Mom really had a fit when she found out since our bathroom is in the same room as her treadmill, and for some reason she doesn't seem to like my smells when she jogs. Her loss. I'm the Treadmill Watch Guard of the house. It's my solemn and sworn duty to be present whenever the treadmill is in use. Sometimes I like to be held while she's going, and other times I just watch. Mom watches Buffy dvds in there, and I have to say that even though I didn't expect to like it (is anything as awesome as animal planet? Uh, NO.) it's growing on me. When the unit is not in use, it makes an awesome nap spot. Pretty much everything in my life is awesome. I sleep, eat, and play as much as I want and I get my belly rubbed fairly regularly. I can crawl into Mom's lap when she's on the computer and I get to sleep in between my Dad's legs on a warm and comfy bed each night. I like to play night games and it's always fun to make Dad get up and close the curtains when I open them up (I also know how to open the shower door, and Mom thinks that's a hoot.)They call me a tiny baby kitten, but of course that's not true. I'm grown now and not at all tiny. I get my macho out when I feel like it, especially when it comes to dealing with those puppies. They're bigger but I'm faster. Still, I don't mind being the baby sometimes because my big brother cleans my ears for me and my parents always let me go under the covers.My life is awesome and so am I.
PS- Mom will be back soon!
My life used to be so much better. Mom and Dad would go away during the day and I'd be free to sit in the sun and have a peaceful nap. Quietly. Without being bothered. Ever. My biggest worry (if I was going to worry, which I can't remember ever doing) was moving my beautiful furbody across the room to follow the midmorning sun. Of course that all changed eighteen months ago when the beast entered our lives. Now I have someone who baps my tail when I'm sleeping on a chair and blocks the doorway to the bedroom at night. The little heathen is also a piglet. He eats up all of our food and I've been reduced to begging for more. Simply demeaning.One great thing in my life is my mom. She knows how important my routine is to me. I follow her to the bathroom every morning and wait for her on the stairs while she takes the beasts (and I'm not even going to lower myself to talk about them) outside. She eventually comes back and I can rest easy until shower time. I always watch out for Mom, just in case something bad happens to her. I worry with all that water spraying all over the place. She also saves me my special places by her on the couch and in bed. She tells me that I'm her special boy, which is really sappy, but I deal with it because we've been pretty tight. And don't tell anyone, but I do kinda like it when she tells me how beautiful I am and wonderful I am in general. Compliments will get you everywhere, my friends. Compliments and gravy packets. And my red ribbon. Nobody better touch that. Ever.It is so past my naptime.
Over the past week, Girl has really found her voice. She used to just bark or whine to go outside, and I thought that was great. It greatly reduced the amount of pee on my floor. On wednesday night she woke up at 1230 and began to bark. They've been sleeping through the night pretty much since 12 weeks, so we were surprised. P took her outside, but she didn't need to go. I took her outside because sometimes I can get her to go when he can't. I don't know if she was scared, cold, hot, bored, lonely, or just filled with the desire to inspire murderous rage among her humans. I read up and decided to go with the ignore-the-behavior-and-she'll-stop approach. I've tried. It's damn hard to ignore when it's bouncing off the inside of your skull. I still take her outside when she needs to go, but other than that, I'm on ignore. I think my brain is vibrating right now.Holymotherofcrap. It's driving me crazy. Can a person go insane from the barking? (I'm pretty sure I know what the problem is right now - I took away rawhides because they got too small and am not giving them back. Power struggle and I'm not giving up. Even for my hearing. I'm not.)shut.the.fucking.barking.up.
In the Twirl household, we go through lots of toys. Puppies are little destructo-units. They will chew and chew and chew until there's nothing left and then they will chew each other. I decided from the start to make sure there were always plenty of different acceptable chewing options available. They have soft toys, hard toys, rope toys, chew toys, and they love them all. They say you ought to rotate, but I don't really need to since they destroy things so often that there's always a new toy coming in to replace something.
Seven weeks: rope
Eight weeks: Girl with rope and fish, Boy with monkey and carrot. Carrot was the first toy that Boy selected himself by taking it off a low shelving unit at the "toy store."
Nine weeks: Girl with jack, Boy with unfortunately-placed carrot. Girl is not usually possessive over toys. She shares easily and is not territorial. This does not apply to the big jack. Boy may chew in tandem, but he may not take this toy away!
Ten weeks: Twirl messes with Boy and many toys, Boy and mini tennis ball. I do have to mess with them when they're sleeping. It's payback for them messing with me when they're awake.
Eleven weeks: Boy and rope, Girl and Boy and HIS giraffe. Boy does not share toys he's deemed "his." The giraffe is not for sharing. He gathers up toys to sleep with or hoard.
Twelve weeks: Girl with jack, Girl and Boy chewing a hard ball with three ropes that go through and have knots in the ends. The ropes have since been shredded, partially consumed, and thrown away.
P: Have a good day with the little terrors.Twirl: the first time I read that sentence I saw "terrorists"P: No, not terrorists. They're combination wrecking balls, lawnmowers,weed-wackers and other things though.
I have a couple puppy-picture-theme posts in mind. I was thinking about a series showing that we do, in fact, live at Toys R Us for dogs. I also have tons of cute "I love my brother/sister" shots.However.I think we need to discuss the crate. Some people think crate training is cruel, but we do not. It is good for them to have a safe place where they can't hurt themselves or get into trouble. Dogs like to have a "den" and a crate satisfies this need. It also helps in housebreaking, as dogs will not soil their crate if at all possible because it's where they sleep. They spend plenty of time both in and out of the crate.
When we leave the house, the pups are always in their crate. If we aren't watching them, they're in the crate. When we go to bed at night, they're in the in the crate. This might sound like a lot of time, but really they spend more time sleeping passed out on the tile floor than anywhere else. And we're suckers and allow it.At first, they weren't happy about the crate. I can understand this, especially considering where they came from. They lived in an outside pen with several other siblings. They were away from their parents, away from the breeders (don't even get me started on what I think of these people) and that's where they stayed. Imagine being only almost seven weeks old and being taken away from your siblings, on a long car ride where you threw up, with strange people, to a strange place, and put in a small (comparatively) pen. It was obvious they were scared.
So we comforted them, reassured them, took them out to go potty regularly, and put them back in the crate. The crate was in our bedroom at night so we'd hear them whine, and in the kitchen during the day. They huddled together and got used to this, but it seemed like they had a hard time falling asleep/staying asleep while we were in the room. I guess humans are just too much fun. So we tried moving the crate downstairs and they sleep much, much better.
If a crate is too big, a dog can use one side of it for sleeping and the other side for a bathroom. We needed to figure out a way to make the crate temporarily smaller. We put a large pillow and a large stuffed dog on one side to block it off. Usually they would pull the puppy down and sleep on it or next to it. This will be good for size comparison later!
(all pictures are at 7 weeks old)***to be continued...
around 10pm... Twirl comfortable on the couch, P up for a snack...P: Girl is puking on the floor. And it's green.Twirl: Well, she eats leaves and grass. P: Now she's eating it.Twirl: I told you I didn't want dogs. (thinking: you saw it, you clean it)P: It's ok. Floor's clean now.
We went to the vet today. The little monsters doubled in size in the last month and they now officially outweigh the cats.
