Post-dog-park-sleepy-smile

Dreaming of romping through the woods...

Tired Tay

Too much running at the park = one zonked-out doggie!

Tay is A-OK

   The big man is sleeping soundly. It took 36 hours for his stomach to go back down to normal size. Now he's getting only sips of water and small amounts of food. I must find a way to teach him not to gulp them down, inhaling too much air.

Rear Window

Aki helps me keep my foot elevated.

Taylor isn't really helping much at all.

Gypsy is ready in case I need chest compression. 

 

I feel like Jimmy Stewart in "Rear Window", except all I can see is cat.

The birds have been very active outside. Glad I filled the feeders on Tuesday!

 

So far, no murdering out there. Update later.

Hangin' on the Couch

   I am a highly impatient patient, & am terribly bored after these first three days of lying around. Tired of the pain, ready to be back in my feet and running around again. Am I healed yet???

My caretakers today: Brett, Gyp, & Ak.

Miles to go before I sleep

   There's a commercial running on TV now (for Jeep) that features this beloved poem. It has always been a favorite of mine, as it concisely describes the beauty of winter and appreciate for the quiet of the season. This year, however, we've had less than an inch of snow in KC so far, and therefore have had no snowy hiking opportunities. (It has been in the 60s again all this week!)

   So I guess the one thing I can currently relate to the poem is the feeling of eery quiet brought on by the Percoset—feeling deeply alone when it dulls my senses and forces me to lie still to avoid the intense nausea. Miles to go before I sleep, indeed! The last two nights have been tougher than I ever imagined; I wish the surgeon wouldn't have downplayed the surgery & recovery time when we first met, setting me up for false expectations. But I am sure I'm on the mend... and will be glad to arrive!

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.


My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.


He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.


The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

— Robert Frost

Just so you know....

   Possums aren't the only ones good at playing possum.

   Darwin seems to be doing okay so far, inasmuch as he is lively and eager for meals. But he's still dragging his back legs, which makes me worry that he may be paralyzed permanently. Time will tell, but he's getting the best shot at life—I'm making sure of it!

   The dogs are living up to their reputation as hunters and are driving me bonkers. They know that there's an animal in the house and are determined to find him. They're jumping all over me, sniffing and searching frantically, and whining, all the while with eyes 3x their normal size, giant goofy grins, and tongues hanging to the ground. If it weren't so hot I'd keep him in the garage, but he's comfortable wrapped in a fleece jacket in a small kennel... as long as it's out of reach of certain nosy Shibas!

We can has possum... pleeeeeeese?!!?

We help you eet possum?

Sleepy shibas

Proof that my dogs are strange: this is how they sleep!

Yeah, hide your head, buddy. 'Cause you're weird!

   I wish I were one of my own pets so I could lounge all day. My circadian rhythm would give that a big thumbs up!