Thursday, November 29, 2012

Public Service Announcement for dog owners

Important but somewhat unpleasant info below...

Three days ago:  Sunshine's appetite drops off.  She only eats about 1/2 of her bowlful.  Seems otherwise normal.

Two days ago:  Zero appetite.  Lazier than normal but seems OK.  We figure it's just some kind of tummyache.

Yesterday:  Zero appetite.  Laziness has given way to lethargy.  When I got home from work in the afternoon we resolved to get her to the vet early the next day, and left for the evening church service.

Last night:  Got back from church and her hindparts were damp and bloody.  Diluted blood on floor and sofa cusions.  Very obvious discomfort/distress.  Very unhealthy smell.  Transported her to 24 hour emergency vet, where she was quickly diagnosed with Pyometra, which I had never heard of.  It is a NASTY infection of the uterus.  Untreated, the uterus can so fill up with pus that it can burst and cause very rapid death. Even without bursting, the infection can get bad enough to cause shock, kidney problems, or other systemic illness.  BAD STUFF!  Pretty much the only treatment is spaying right then and there.  But it becomes much more complicated than an ordinary spay due to the infection and the steps needed to keep it from spreading, as her uterus is now basically a delicate water balloon full of pus.  Like, umm, a $2200 surgery bill kind of "complicated."  Ugh.

As I'm writing this, my wife just called me to say that the vet left a message saying Sunshine came through surgery last night OK and is recovering normally.  I should be able to take her home tonight after work if things continue to go well.

If you have an un-spayed female, keep an eye on things.  This condition is caused by an incomplete expulsion of uterine material during her cycle.  It's likelihood increases with age (Sunshine is 6 1/2) and it typically starts a month or two after the end of her cycle.  Keep an eye on things for a couple months after her cycles, and get her checked ASAP if things look unusual, as it can go from no symptoms to death in less than 24 hours.

Or, just get her spayed!

Monday, November 26, 2012

Pressing question

I bored and cold and my brain can't seem to reach a definitive conclusion about a matter that is really gnawing at me:

Who would win in a Celebrity Deathmatch between Gandalf and Darth Vader?  Note: I'm thinking of latter-stages Gandalf the White, not the bumbling Grey guy in the Hobbit. 

If I crowdsource this question to my teeming horde dozen or so readers, we should be able to reach a valid answer.  I'll tally the results from the comments and we'll finally put the issue to rest.  Or, we'll end up with a muddled mess like the BCS standings.  Either way, it'll be more fun for me than just sitting here.

PS: Hey, Manhattan Infidel!  When I do a Google Image Search for Gandalf, your pic comes up in the #2 spot!  Congrats on your mastery of the internet!

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Happy Redneck Thanksgiving!

First T-Day at the new county homestead, and it's feeling a lot "country-er".  We're not really on a view property, but there's enough downslope behind the backyard to see about a half-mile across the valley.  It is mostly pasture land.  Most of the time, that is.  We've had whoppin' rain the last few days, and it is now a GIANT FREEKIN' LAKE out back.  Well, a lake with a road running through the middle of it.  The water never got high enough to mess with traffic, but it's pretty weird to see cars seeming to walk on water. 

My next-door neighbors are out of town, and one of their chickens has repeatedly decided to make a break for it.  Because of the slope described above, looking out my kitchen window puts me about eye-level with the errant chicken roaming out front.  Twice so far this morning, I've done the Bird Round-Up and put her back in her enclosure.

If you're now expecting Rockyesque chicken-chasin' hilarity, you should brace for disappointment.  I'm not dumb enough to chase chickens through mud, wet grass and wet fir needles.  On a slope.  And if I were, I'd never admit it on these hallowed pages...

First off, I befriended her with a handful of cereal.  Kix, in this case.  Then while she's pecking away, I just grabbed her and dropped her back over the fence.  OK, the second time she got loose she did elude my first grab attempt, so I just slowly followed her until she got herself cornered between the fence and the barn.  The trick is to not move too fast.  (For an apt comparison, picture the knife-fights in Dune).  Easy-peasy, but I did suffer a very minor scratch on my hand from one of her vicious talons feet.  She appears to be learning, though, and I expect future confrontations to be much more interesting and/or painful.  Good thing I have a lot of Kix.

Parenthetic:  I just did a Google image search for "Warrior Chicken" but none of those pics quite captures the ferocity I've had to deal with.  As usual, use your imagination.  Maybe I need to remind her that our turkey this year isn't all that big and I might begin to hunger for more flightless fowl later tonight.

Suffice to say, I will not be punked by a chicken!

So what are y'all thankful for?  I have a lot, but here's an abbreviated list:

  • The elder of the two grandkidlets is at the other grandparents' place for the holiday.  Half the noise/mess/chaos!
  • Moody's has upgraded my financial prospects from "incredibly hopeless" to merely "uncomfortably tight"
  • While the next-door neighbor has a six-pack of chickens, he only has one rooster and he does not "Barackadoodledoo!" at dawn.  In fact, he's basically silent.  I should dress him in a little mime costume.
And you?

Friday, November 16, 2012

Jihady Doody Time!

Seen's how that imnotananus guy don't hardly post nothing on his blarg no more, I'm think I may just take it over.  Aller willin', that is. 

Anyways, I sure am proud o' my kindred folk over in that Gazzer Strip.  Launchin' rockets at them joooos sounds like a lot of fun.  Y'all might recall how that worked out for me...  Sounds like they're havin' a better go of it than I did.  But geeze louise, they can't aim for ****.  (Sorry, Aller, didn't mean to cuss).  Them missiles o' theirs 'bout as acc'rate as a bottle rocket with a warped stick.  Hey, Jammal, shut up!  I said "stick" you twisted sun beach.  What I'm startin' to worry is that them yahoos are gonna blow up the wrong stuff.  When ya can't even hit a city, well, maybe it's time to clean the goat snot off'n yer scope optics or sumpthin.  They's gonna end up shooting that purty mosque right off the Temple Mount if they don't hurry up and figger out how to aim a little better.

Hey!  I just had an ideer!  Gaza Strip would be a good name fer one them clubs where the gents stick dollar bills in the ladies' burkas!  I'm gonna be rich!

Where wuz I?  Got a little distracted thar for a sec, what with all that mental imagery of hotties in burkas and stuff.  Oh yeah.  I was talkin' about that medical marwanna that all them hippies are smokin'.  Being both a jihadi and a redneck, lemme tell you how much I hate hippies.  Well, I ain't got a good word for it, but I hate 'em a lot.  Let's just leave it right there for now.  And don't none o' y'all steal my Gaza Strip ideer or I'll put a bomb in your beer fridge!  But with this barrycare law goin' inta effect, them hippies gonna be pissed.  'Cuz there's some claws in that law that imposes a tax on medical devices.  I can't wait for the IRS agents to come up on some lazy hippie.  The hippie gonna say "Dude, it's legal!  I got my medical marwanna card so leave me alone!"  Then the IRS agent gonna hit him with a truncheon and say "how much you pay for that fancy bong?"  The hippie, being naturally proud o' his bong'll say "It's made of imported quartz and lined with gemstones.  The bowl is 100% sterling silver.  I paid a thousand bucks."  So the IRS man'll hit him with a truncheon again and say "what you call 'bong' I call 'medical equipment' and you ain't paid yer tax on it so off to prison you stinky hippie!"  And I'm gonna laugh my ample fanny right off, hoo-wee!

Well, lunchbreak here at the Speedy Lube is just about over so I gotta wrap this up.  May your shootin' be straight and your vests not 'splode prematurely!


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