Jen tagged me almost a month ago, so here you go:
Idiosyncrasy: A structural or behavioral characteristic peculiar to an individual or group. I'm supposed to list five of mine.
1. I have to count stairs when going up or coming down.
2. I have to check the alarm clock at least two times.
3. I have to check to make sure the doors are locked at least two times. (Sometimes 2 and three make me get out of bed.)
4. I go through phases of hobbies/activities. Sometimes all I want to do is read, sometimes it's sewing, sometimes it's crosswords, sometimes it's making jewelry, sometimes it's playing computer games. Sadly, it's never cleaning.
5. I have to be doing something when I'm watching TV, like playing gameboy or doing a crossword. I generally can't just sit and watch TV.
Maybe next time I'll get around to the reunion recap.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Thursday, August 25, 2005
No time for love, Dr. Jones
As usual, the promises to myself to be better about posting have not worked, but you know what, I just don't care ... so there! But MB told me to make with the blog, and I happened to have e-mailed a post to myself from work Tuesday night, so I'll stop being lazy and post it.
I promised the story of Rusty's last trip to the vet almost a month ago, and here it is.
Rusty had puked every day for almost a week, and he was doing this weird fake leg-lifting on the tree but not peeing thing (he wasn't not peeing all the time so I didn't know what to make of it), and he needed a new kennel cough vaccination, so we drove up to BG for a visit with Dr. Jones.
Well, eventually we went back to the examining room (there's always a bit of a wait), and Dr. Jones asked me what exactly was going on, and I told him the "symptoms" and also that Dave was out of town and that Rusty hadn't been eating as much as usual. Blah blah blah. Next thing I know, Dr. Jones has a rubber glove on and is getting out some gel and then, AND THEN, he stuck his finger up my dog's ass!
Rusty did not take too kindly to this, and it took two assistants to hold him while Dr. Jones finished checking him out. And then, AND THEN, Rusty squatted and took a shit right there in the examining room. I was mortified! I said, "Oh Rusty" in an embarrassed voice, and Dr. Jones said, "Oh, that's to be expected. I stimulated him."
Well, if you're OK with it, I guess I am too. But please don't ever talk about stimulating my dog again, OK?
So, he says Rusty's prostate is slightly enlarged, which is odd since he's not even 2 years old, and that I should keep an eye on him, see if he gets better after Dave gets back, and go from there. Then it's time for the vaccination, which gets sprayed up the nose. Dr. Jones starts heading for Rusty, who is leaning against my leg. As Dr. Jones gets closer, Rusty starts scooting his butt around behind me so Dr. Jones can't get at it again. If I hadn't felt so bad for him, I would have laughed my fool head off. But I laughed and laughed later, so don't think I'm all nice and shit!
So he got his vaccine, we got some anti-nausea pills for him, paid and headed home. It was a very long day for both of us.
Next time: The 10-Year High School Reunion.
I promised the story of Rusty's last trip to the vet almost a month ago, and here it is.
Rusty had puked every day for almost a week, and he was doing this weird fake leg-lifting on the tree but not peeing thing (he wasn't not peeing all the time so I didn't know what to make of it), and he needed a new kennel cough vaccination, so we drove up to BG for a visit with Dr. Jones.
Well, eventually we went back to the examining room (there's always a bit of a wait), and Dr. Jones asked me what exactly was going on, and I told him the "symptoms" and also that Dave was out of town and that Rusty hadn't been eating as much as usual. Blah blah blah. Next thing I know, Dr. Jones has a rubber glove on and is getting out some gel and then, AND THEN, he stuck his finger up my dog's ass!
Rusty did not take too kindly to this, and it took two assistants to hold him while Dr. Jones finished checking him out. And then, AND THEN, Rusty squatted and took a shit right there in the examining room. I was mortified! I said, "Oh Rusty" in an embarrassed voice, and Dr. Jones said, "Oh, that's to be expected. I stimulated him."
Well, if you're OK with it, I guess I am too. But please don't ever talk about stimulating my dog again, OK?
So, he says Rusty's prostate is slightly enlarged, which is odd since he's not even 2 years old, and that I should keep an eye on him, see if he gets better after Dave gets back, and go from there. Then it's time for the vaccination, which gets sprayed up the nose. Dr. Jones starts heading for Rusty, who is leaning against my leg. As Dr. Jones gets closer, Rusty starts scooting his butt around behind me so Dr. Jones can't get at it again. If I hadn't felt so bad for him, I would have laughed my fool head off. But I laughed and laughed later, so don't think I'm all nice and shit!
So he got his vaccine, we got some anti-nausea pills for him, paid and headed home. It was a very long day for both of us.
Next time: The 10-Year High School Reunion.
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