can't think of a suitable title

Well, I'm baking cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and then I have to go shovel. I don't know how many inches there are but if I don't shovel I'll be sorry later. I'm already sorry I didn't shovel the first snow we had--the driveway is a mess. It's supposed to get up to 40 in the middle of the week, and hopefully if I shovel down to the ice, the ice will melt off.

But it sure looks pretty. :)

I was bad this year. In the 24 years I've been at my job, the department traditionally takes up a collection around Christmas as a bonus for the secretaries. Some years we've made out really well. Other years--well, last year our dept. chair didn't get around to cnavassing until like the week after finals, when no one was around, and we got about $50. I was insulted, to put it mildly. So, being unregenerately ungrateful, this year I sent an e-mail to the new Grad Director, who is a total sweetheart, and said, "Hey, could you mention something to the chair about collecting for the secretaries? He always forgets, and I really need new tires for the van!" So, bless his heart, that very afternoon he came in and gave me this great big grin and a thumbs up and said, "you know that e-mail? All taken care of."

Well, I hope people came through, because while it's true that I need new tires for the van, last night my DVD/VCR died. I can get by without cable or satellite, but I can't manage without a DVD/VCR. And I'm afraid I'm going to have to go to Walmart because they have a unit that plays DVDs and videotapes, and also burns videotapes to DVD, so I can copy some of my very old videotapes before they disappear forever, and it's under $200.

Tires? Well, yes, I acknowledge that new tires are very important. I'm cat-sitting between 12/18 and 1/9 (I think), so that should cover at least 2 new ones for the front. But I want to get the DVD player while it's on sale for Christmas.

Speaking of toys, I got one of those keyrings you can put digital pictures on for $10, so I put some pictures on last night. I'll have to go back and redo them, I think, so I can rearrange them--they play in the order you load them, and there's no way to rearrange them once they're there. But anyway, I put Nixie and Nixie baby picture, Stella and Stella baby pictures, Taenzer and Taenzer baby pictures, and Timber and Timber baby pictures. I'd forgotten how tiny he was when I got him. There's one picture where he's lying down, and there's the head of another dog in the picture. That dog's head is almost as big as Timber. And it's not an adult dog, it's one of his litter-brothers. He was that small.

I still can't believe I was lucky enough to be the one who brought him home.

And I'm missing that silly Annie. We all went shopping yesterday, and when we got home I let the Ts play while I carried in groceries. As I unlocked the backdoor I suddenly realized there would be no one there to greet me. How many years have I come home and called "Hi, Annie, I'm ba-ack!" And as aggravating as she could be, I miss having her to cuddle with, with her thick soft fur and sweet cat smell.

I thought I might casually show a couple of people my new toy and see what reaction they have--those little keychains might make a nice little Christmas present.

Good-bye, Miss Annie

I had Annie put down this morning. She'd developed a UTI, had blood in her urine, spent the night in the bathrom because she was peeing at random places in the house, including my bed (typical for Annie with a UTI, i might add). i thought--i could get the vet to give us some antibiotics and we could clear this up, but she was at the vet Monday, and two weeks before that, and two weeks before that, and--her body is just breaking down. We were at the point of taking 1 step forward and 3 steps back.

So I took her in, and she wasn't ready to go, she pretty much fought it all the way. Fortunately the drug is very quick acting.

It's just been so hard with Annie. With Nixie and Stella, it was an emergency, and it tore my heart out, but there was no question about what to do. Big Sam Kitty and Rusty both let me know they were ready to go. Annie--and this seems very Annie-ish--just kept hanging in there. If I'd had enough money and time i bet I could have nursed her through to 22 or 23.

Well. I asked them to cremate her, and I think I may plant a rose bush or something over her. She never lived anywhere else.

I went home and had a good cry and hugged Ts and took them out to play for half an hour, and then went back to work. Now I'm home, and it's very strange. I got her the summer I moved into this house. I could never remember when I signed the papers for the house, but I could always remember how old Annie was. She was this scrawny little kitty in a litter my sister's cat had, and if I can find it, I'll scan in the picture of her playing with her first GSD, Nixie. She and Nixie were such buds--Nixie was a very gentle, maternal dog anyway, and she just let this scrawny little kitty climb all over her and beat her up. Sometimes Annie would lie in wait for her, the way adolescent cats do, spring out and grab her by the cheeks and bite her ears and eyelids, and Nixie would whine, but she never lost her temper. They used to sleep together--I sure wish I had a picture of it. They were almost the same colors, and Annie would sleep curled up in the curve of Nixie's body. It was so sweet.

She grew up to be *round*--round face, round eyes, round body, and round little black-velvet feet. She had nice markings for a tortie, esp. her face--sometimes torties have such odd face markings it makes them look all crooked-- and a thick, thick, beautiful, shining coat. She loved being brushed. And she was a good cat--she never bit, never scratched, no matter what you did to her. She never minded having her claws clipped. Not much bothered her. She was very social and always came to greet visitors and paused in each lap to be petted, and she always supervised every workman who came into the house to be sure they did it right.

She was on a strict diet for years, because otherwise she would have looked like a furry basketball with a tennis ball stuck on one end and a wiggly tail on the other. She once ate four days' worth of food for two cats in a day and a half. Talk about Miss Piggy! That was Annie. She liked ice cream and pepperoni and when I got into raw feeding with Stella, she thought that was great. The past year or so she's been getting about a third of a raw chicken liver every night and always ate it first out of her dinner bowl.

Annie was never the brightest bulb in the box--it took her about 2 years to figure out that Stella wasn't Nixie. And Stella wasn't Nixie. She never hurt Annie, but she had a lot of prey-drive, and she loved to pester Annie and poke her with her nose. And Annie would fall over on her side and look at me and whine: "She's touching me! Make her stop!" I'd say, "Well, bite her nose, and she'll leave you alone," but the silly cat never did. But she used to sit on the back of the couch and look out the window, and when Stella barked at the mailman, Annie would growl, too.

I was so, so glad that Taenzer and Timber were so gentle with her, and she could live out her last years more peacefully. Timber was particularly long-suffering: up to last winter she was still liable to grab him by the cheeks and chomp him when he stepped on her, and just last night he was snuggling in my arms, upside down, and she decided she wanted to lie down in a certain spot and just tromped right across his belly. In both cases he looked at her, then looked at me, clearly wishing to say, "This is a very strange creature." And Taenzer learned to find her. I was always so afraid she would die somewhere and I wouldn't be able to find her, so I taught Taenzer to look for her when I said "Where's Annie? Go find Annie!" And Taenzer would trot off looking for her, nose-poke her when she found her, come back to get me, nose-poke her again. She could always find Annie.

She outlived 2 German Shepherds and 2 Maine Coon cats and triumphantly and smugly oversaw the departure of my beautiful Marty-Smarty, who wanted to be an only cat and insisted on marking everything in the house. I feel like an era of my life has ended.

I want to get another cat. I'd esp. like to get a young adult male, cause I think the Ts would love having a lively, playful cat to lay with. But I think I'll give it a while.

Good-bye, Miss Annie. I'll really miss you.

Ts Go Wild

The camera missed all of the leaping, running, and pouncing because it takes so long to reset between flashes, but things got pretty active around here last night!


Annie suspects something is up.

Taenzer contemplates trouble:







Timber contemplates trouble:

Timber: "Hold still and I'll grab it!"

Taenzer: "Got a good grip?"

Tugging ensues!

Sideburns fly!






Taenzer doesn't believe in losing gracefully.

Taenzer: "You are such an annoying little twerp!"

Okay, that last picture completely cracks me up. Let's take a closer look:

My sweet, darling girl.

Timber is not too concerned.

Annie (at the end of the pillow-fight): "I'm too old for this!"

(Annie, btw, went more or less untouched throughout the mayhem, save for having a pillow fall on her. The Ts are so good with her!)

l-o-n-g weekend

Big mood crash, triggered by ongoing tech problems, worsening financial stuff, and Annie. I stayed up until about 1 or 1:30 Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night, feeding Annie baby food out of a spoon every two hours. She had an appt. scheduled with the vet Monday morning for a thyroid check, and so I asked them to give her fluids--I've just got to catch them at a quiet time and get them to teach me to give sub-Q fluids. She came home obviously feeling so much better, though extremely cranky and hissy about being stuck with needles.

But I didn't ever get a chance to talk to the vet. This is the one who's trying to run a 3-person practice by herself, with someone else coming in about 1/3 time. There has to be a young vet somewhere who'd like to connect with an established, busy practice in an interesting college town with twice-daily Amtraks to Chicago, and I hope Karen can find him or her soon before she collapses! Yesterday when I went in at 5, she still had 5 surgeries to do, and had 2 emergencies going on, including a dying cat. So I just paid the bill and told them NOT to have her call me last night, and took Annie home. I was hoping Karen would call me at work today, but I'm not sure she's ever able to catch up with herself. *sigh*

Anyway, Annie's clearly feeling tons better, although she's still refusing to eat anything but baby food with whipping cream stirred in (trying to get some extra moisture and calories into her). Last night I was just so wiped I was in bed by 10, but I didn't sleep well--too warm. It's laughably warm for t he end of November--I don't think it got below 55 outside last night. Of course, Thursday and Friday, when I'll be off, it's supposed to be cold and nasty. Poor Ts, I was going to take them for long walks on campus.

Enough of that. I've got to share this website with you: http://tinyurl.com/2x6pzz Some extremely strange patterns, and --stainless steel yarn??? My sister found it while websurfing. Some of the garments look like they *might* be comfortable, if made in a different yarn--but some of them, as my sister opined, look like they belonged to a homeless person.

The Alpaca Sox yarn arrived. It's very nice, very very soft. The suggested needle size is 2, and since these aren't walking socks, I think that's what I might use. And on 2s, they should knit up pretty fast--much faster than on 0s! Once again I wish I had a yarn meter, so I could divide the yarn accurately and feel safe about how long I can make them. The socks, I mean.

Here's another site to check out. This one is really excellent, lots of wonderful free patterns! http://www.garnstudio.com/lang/en/kategori_oversikt.php It's a Scandinavian company, and some of their patterns are translated into British English and some are translated into American English. I didn't realize there was such a huge difference in terminology until I looked at the instructions for this pattern, a gorgeous lace baby blanket, which are in British English: http://www.garnstudio.com/lang/en/visoppskrift.php?d_nr=b14&d_id=22&lang=en Fortunately, there's a chart for it, and I was able to translate the written instructions enough to gather that there are 8 stitches in garter stitch on either side, but wow--it's quite a sensation to read something that you know is English and not be able to make heads or tails of it! *lol*

Oh, and a neat thing from yesterday: Between the months when Stella died and I got Taenzer, a friend got a mixed-breed puppy. We never have figured out what she is--at first glance, you'd think she might be a labradoodle, but based on the shape of her head and body, my guess is standard poodle and Irish Wolfhound. I used to puppy sit her, and she's the sweetest thing, but my friend's husband was allergic, so she rehomed her with someone in the department who has two little girls. It's been several years since I saw Pippi, and she came in to visit yesterday. I was just like "PIPPI!!!" and ran to her and sat down on the floor and she threw herself into my lap, then ran in little circles, then came back to get hugged, and generally appeared just as delighted to see me as I was to see her. Her mom watched her for a minute, then said drily, "Very uncharacteristic greeting behavior. I think she remembers you." I think she did. :) I got an extremely thorough going-over by the Ts when I got home. But boy it was so good to see my little girl (no longer very little--she's bigger than either of the Ts!), and have her be so happy to see me. Puppy therapy is a great healer.

One of those nights

that makes you want to take to your bed for a week or two.

In the first place I'm running an infirmary here:

• Timber's fall allergies are kicking up, and he's on 100mg of benadryl 2x a day to keep him from being so itchy (I've also added salmon oil to his diet for the Omega 3s and 6s).


• Taenzer's got an upset tummy and has thrown up--mostly bile--3 times that I know of, twice on the bed (thank you, Taenzer) and pooped icky smelly dark green poop in the kitchen. *sigh* She got white rice, canned white chicken, and a couple of dabs of yoghurt for dinner, and is wandering around looking very ill-used and hungry.


• Annie, on the other hand, went on a hunger strike when I tried to feed her health food, so I caved and bought her some Fancy Feast. She ate 3 cans yesterday; only 1 today. She's lost so much weight, and I don't know what to do for her. Nutrical gives her diarrhea, so it's not much help. I tried looking on the web tonight for things to fatten up cats, but could only find stuff about putting your cat on a diet. I kept adding things *not* to search for: loss, diet, low calorie, but I never hit on anything helpful. A couple of sites said "Feed your cat high-calorie cat food." Yeah, thanks. Like for instance? I got her mostly chicken and beef food this time, but maybe I'll get some seafood varities next time--I did find something that said elderly cats lose their sense of smell, and if a cat can't smell it won't eat. But I'm desperately trying to think of something nutrient-dense and hi-cal that she would eat that I could add to her food. Maybe I'll try some whipping cream--she's often interested in licking ice cream from my spoon. Maybe some raw hamburger. She likes raw chicken livers. She's so terribly thin and tottery, it breaks my heart. I'd give anything to get another pound on her.

Meanwhile, I had to bake some cinnamon rolls so I'd have something for breakfast tomorrow (Pillsbury kind; don't start thinking I actually *bake*!). And about three months ago I started wish I had a vest made out of a mostly-red handpaint yarn to wear over a white t-shirt with jeans. One of the yarns I found while I was burrowing this past weekend just fits the bill, and I found a nice, if slightly weird, pattern, at Elann (http://www.elann.com/ShowFreePattern.asp?Id=244024 ), so I came home, found the yarn, picked up a pair of needles and started in.

Soon came to realize I probably didn't have enough yarn, and can't get more because it's a Cherry Tree Hill Potluck, so it's a one-of. So then I had this brilliant idea: it's 4-ply worsted weight, so I'll just split it into 2-ply! Yeah! Then it'll drape better and I bet then I'll have enough yarn!

Yeah. Easier said than done, let me tell you. Only now I've gotten stubborn and obsessive about it and don't want to give it up. It should only take me about a year or so...

And damn it, I ordered sock yarn. I keep saying I'm going to stop that. Here's my excuse this time: the father of a dear friend of mine fell in July and injured himself so badly that he's partly paralyzed. She, of course, is as torn up about it as you might expect. I, of course, wanted to do something, but she's in North Carolina, he's in Denver, and I'm in Forgottonia. So I thought--socks. Elderly people often have cold hands and feet, right? And being confined to a wheelchair probably makes it worse. And Denver. It gets cold in Denver in the winter! So I decided to make him some socks. I asked around on the socknitters list and was advised that a ribbed-pattern tube sock would be good--I don't have to know what size to make, and if it's ribbed, it will stay up. I also decided to use Alpaca Sox--which may be a mistake, I don't know. I got conflicting stories about who's responsible for patient's laundry in nursing homes. If they go into the institutional laundry, they're toast--or at least tiny felted socklets--but if whichever of his kids is out in Denver will take care of them, they'll be fine. But I especially wanted to use an alpaca blend because alpaca is so soft and something like 7 times warmer than wool. I ordered the Peacock colorway and a solid chestnut brown. I didn't want them to be too bright, but knowing my friend, and from what she's said about her dad, I thought he can probably stand a little more color than the black/grey/white colorway. I figure actually I'll get two pairs of socks out of the yarn, one Peacock with brown top ribbing and toes, and one solid brown, so he'll have a pair to wear when the other's in the wash.

But I sorta lost control and ordered some other sock yarn I didn't need. I didn't get too crazy, but if I was going to lose control and spend money, I should have bought dog food or gotten the van tuned and oil changed. At least I didn't get any more Schaefer Anne.

I'm hoping to start a genealogical website here pretty soon. The university I work for gives us free website space, I think; I just have to find out how to get it set up. That would be a fun thing to work on over Christmas break.

Timber. and Annie (and socks)

Timber, Timber, Timber, Timber, Timber.

He was crated last night. We didn't go out in the middle of the night. I took them out this morning. Didn't see him go, but I wasn't very awake and was spacing out trying to envision a garden where the old house they just tore down was, so we went back in.

Stepped inside and caught a whiff of the faint, warm, musky odor of Timber pee (it's so dilute, it doesn't have a real strong smell). I had to wait until I had my contacts in to find it, and then follow my nose, but eventually found it on a mat in the kitchen.

*sigh*

He must have darted out of the crate and hit the kitchen while I was still trying to get my sweats on.

Lessons learned:
1. If I approach semi-conciousness in the middle of the night, get out of bed and take him out.
2. If I don't take him out in the middle of the night, don't open his crate until I have clothes and shoes on, and then put a leash on him to get him from the crate to the front door without incident.

Then there's Annie. I got some new food for Annie which is healthier than Fancy Feast, but of course she won't eat it. (Judi bangs head on wall) I left her out last night so she could sleep on the bed, which she did, but she didn't eat anything. Which is why she's been spending the night in the cat room, because she eats when she spends the night in there. But it gets cold in there, and it was 28 degrees outside this morning. I have an electric pet pad for her--very very low heat, but quite comforting to sit on--but I hate to leave it plugged in overnight for fear of starting a fire and burning the house down. (Wait a minute. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad! It would solve a lot of problems...) So anyway, I left her and her uneaten food in the cat room when I left this morning; hopefully she'll eat.

Maybe I could try buying some meat baby food, which she likes, to mix into the health food and see if she'll eat it that way...

I wonder if I ought to take Timber to the vet. But if he's got renal dysplasia, she can't tell through tests. ("With a 67 percent loss of renal mass, [the affected dog] might exhibit polyuria/polydipsia (pu/pd), but serum measures of renal function, such as creatinine and blood urea nitrogen (BUN), are not affected." http://www.vet.upenn.edu/schoolresources/communications/publications/bellwether/40/articles.html

I just called the vet's office to get my memory refreshed on his last bunch of blood tests and urinalysis, and the receptionist said she couldn't tell me, that the vet had to. Since it's printed out in a nice big graph that any 8-year-old could read, it seems like a receptionist or vet tech could say, "Yes, it looks like the BUN was a little high last time. Do you need to bring your dog in?" Esp. since she's running a 3-vet clinic with 1-1/2 vets, it seems like it would save her a lot of time. The receptionist or vet tech wouldn't be making a diagnosis, just reading a graph, and could say, "If you need more information about this I can have Doctor call you" (why do nurses of all varieties of doctors refer to their bosses as "Doctor"?)

"[E]arliest signs of CRF...include a mild to moderate increase in thirst and urination (polydipsia and polyuria) and a need to urinate during the night (nocturia). Other common early clinical findings include variable weight loss" (he had been near 70 pounds about 6 months ago; last time I took him in it was closer to 65) "poor hair coat" (well,he doesn't have that!) "lethargy" (in his crate all the time and lying in the puppy pen while Taenzer's running around like a lunatic) "and selective appetite" (I have to sit beside him and encourage him to eat and sometimes he walks away anyway). "Withholding water at night will not decrease the pet's need to urinate overnight and may cause an acute crisis." "Water soluble vitamins (B and C) should be supplemented." "Omega-3 fatty acid supplementation may be of benefit to some animals with chronic renal failure." I just ordered in some salmon oil to try to help with his season allergies. (quotes from http://www.peteducation.com)

On the sock front: Someone on sockniters list mentioned Classic Elite alpaca sock yarn (alpaca, wool, and nylon). My feet are cold all winter long, and alpaca socks would be wonderful. Plus I'd like to make the sock on the left of the front cover of Sensational Socks. So I've been going from one site to another trying to match up a solid and a variegated in this Classic Elite yarn. WHY don't they make this yarn in navy or black??? And I wish the various sites could be a little more unanimous about what they actually look like. The colors, I mean. A color on one site sometimes looks like a completely different yarn on another site. Anyway, if I make some money cat-sitting over the holidays, I intend to indulge. :)

Made an appt. with the vet for Annie for next Monday. We'll see how she's doing by then. If the vet thinks we could try a higher dose of trazadone (er--of course, I meant tapezole -- 10/21/07), we'll do that--if Annie's okay. So we'll see. She hasn't completely stopped eating--she eats half a raw chicken liver and an entire can of Fancy Feast every night, but I can't get her to eat during the day, or at least not much; if I keep pouring chicken broth onto the food and mushing it up, she'll drink all the liquid part if I carry her over and set her by her bowl, so over the course of a day--when I'm home--maybe she ingests another half a can of FF plus 1/4-1/3 cup chicken broth. Her hindquarters are so weak, but when she's determined she manages just fine--this evening, for example, she wanted to come lie beside me on the couch, but she had to climb over Timber to do it. So she did. (He's such a sweet, gentle guy with her.) And she's using her litterbox faithfully (knock wood). So--just see how it goes, I guess.

The microwave died tonight, oh joy. Funny, the things we get accustomed to. I went years without one, and now I, shall we say, prefer not to. My range is electric, so I feel like I'm saving a lot of electricity by using a microwave instead of the oven; plus I can eat in 6 minutes instead of 45.

Knitting has bumped to a temporary halt. I need to wind yarn from skeins into balls and just haven't had the energy to do it. I guess I could start either the 2nd lavender alpaca sock or the 2nd basketweave-rib sock--they're both in pull-skeins and don't need winding.

Sunday Morning Comin' Down

Remember the Kris Kristofferson song?

I've found a new blog I really like, and have added a link to over there on the right. Kathleen Taylor's Dakota Dreams. She's a writer and designer--and spinner and knitter and many other things, it seems--and not only does she have "Friday Freebies"(patterns), but she collects and posts pictures of old paper dolls. I've been skimming, but I can see I'll have quite a lot of good reading to catch up on.

I spent about 10 minutes grooming Timber this morning and upset him so much he threw up. *sigh*

The other night it was windy and actually kind of cold. The swing I sit in to knit while the Ts are playing blocks most of the wind, but my head got cold, so I decided I needed a hat. Went back and looked through the stash in the cat room (I hate to tell you how much yarn is in this place, but it is not all my fault since people keep destashing on me! I come home and find big trash bags full of yarn at my doorstep, like unwanted kittens. Fortunately it's rather less trouble than 3 or 4 little kittens would be), and found a nice brushed heather charcoal I'd completely forgotten I have. It's probably acrylic, and there were about 6 unmarked grapefruit-size balls with the yarn wound as a double strand. So yesterday I made a tam, using 10s. 8s would probably have been better, but I think it looks fine. It's my first tam. Next time I'm going to make the body part longer, so it's a bit floppier on, but it fits fine as is; it will do what I want it to do. It's soft and fuzzy, and I love the color and the swirl pattern on the top.

We also drove out to look at that red house yesterday. Realtors are v-e-r-y tricky. The photo makes it look like it's sitting all by itself, but it is indeed on a cul-de-sac, with a lot of other little ranch-style houses crammed in around it. Crammed. Like one of the less reputable trailer parks around here. Cheek by jowl. A rusty truck up on blocks in the yard of the house next door. Nothing was said about the lot because apparently there is no lot to speak of. A length of one of the few woven wire cattle fences still standing in the county runs about 5 feet from the back of the house. Quite a disappointment.

Driving out was something of a horror. Not the van; it did fine. But I took the back roads. I used to live in the next town west of where this red house is, and knew all the back roads, all the ways to get to and from. It was all so changed I actually got lost a couple of times, and not, to my mind, changed for the better. All the little family farmsteads from the late 19th century are gone. Now there are featureless acres of--well, this year, it's corn; the ethanol craze--and here and there a modest modular or--not exactly a McMansion, but as near as they get around here, with long twisty drives and professional landscaping. They look about as friendly and cozy and welcoming as--I can't think of a good simile--as anything else plastic, professional, prefab, and mass-produced.

Well. I'd always hoped to live in one of those little white old family houses, with some farmer's rolling hayfield/pasture behind me, and a loop of the river nearby, and the old elms and old fruit trees, the big stands of daylilies and old rambling roses, and sweet cold well water.

I know, I'm an idiot.

Annie's lost more weight--there's just nothing there when you pick her up--and suddenly her fur is so thin that I can see the skin over her shoulder blades when she moves. I'm debating having her PTS tomorrow. She ate almost nothing yesterday. But I gave her some raw chicken liver last night at bedtime, and overnight she ate all the liver and all the rest of her food, and this morning she ate nearly an entire can of Fancy Feast. She's terribly fragile, but she doesn't have that haunted, desperate look Rusty got toward the end, and she's enough herself to still be hugely annoyed when one of the dogs runs over her (more or less literally--they run *over* her without actually touching her, as long as she keeps her head enough to not move into their feet). And she purrs and purrs when I pet her. So--I don't know--I guess just take it a day at a time and see how she does.

All right. Stop brooding. I've eaten something. The sun is out. I'll take the Ts out and let them play while I read something, then I'll come in and watch Roy Orbison and friends in Black and White Night, and think about sweaters. I've still got that gorgeous Noro Transitions that I bought last year; I could figure out what I want to do with it. And I've got 3 colors of Cash Iroha--silver, light denim, and dark denim. I don't really have enough of any individual color to make one sweater (my size, anyway), but I was thinking maybe I could do like a panel sweater. For instance, a center front panel of silver with one of those very elaborate, celtic-design cables, flanked by light blue panels, either plain or with simple rope cables. Then something similar in back, but with light blue as the center and dark blue at the sides. Sleeves in silver, maybe either raglan-style or saddle, with a cable running from the neck to the wrist. I wonder how heavy that would be, if it would be too stiff? The recommended needle size is 8. I know, swatch. Maybe I should order a skein of some color I don't like to experiment with; I hate to "waste" any of the "good" yarn.

I'm at the never-ending foot stage with two of my socks--you go around and around and around, and it looks like it's about the right length to start decreasing, but when you try it on--no, you still need another inch. So you go around and around and around and then try it on again, and no, you still need another inch. Repeat indefinitely... At least it seems so, to someone like me who isn't long on patience!

Last night about 8:00, Timber jumped on the bed where I was reading, looked me in the eye, and went WUFF! I sat there and thought about it--toy? No, there was his ball. Taenzer? No, it wasn't a play-with-me kind of bark. "Timber, do you have to go potty?" WUFF!! Jumped off the bed, ran into the living room, ran back to the bedroom to check on me because I'm so slow, ran back to the living room... Funny boy. He's getting the idea of letting Mommy know he has to go.

It was about 45 this morning, and he was thrilled. He just loves cool/cold weather, and as soon as he realized I was awake he started pestering his big sister and they started wrestling. Then when I'd gotten up and taken them out, he played the jump-off-the-bed, run-through-the-kitchen-into-the-living-room, bounce-off-the-futon, run-through-the-kitchen-into-the-bedroom, bounce-off-the-bed game, with a lot of noisy wrestling with Taenzer, who stayed on the bed, in between. I love to watch them play when they're happy.

We got a new shipment of dogfood yesterday, and I decided to treat them to some canned green tripe, which is completely stinky and gross-looking but they think it's the Food of the Gods. Taenzer smelled it when I opened the can and started whining: "Oh, my favorite, please hurry, please hurry!!" When I put her dish down she got this blissed-out expression like she was eating ice cream or something, and for a change I didn't have to coax Timber to eat. It's supposed to be very good for their digestion and very good for their coats. It's probably even healthier raw (if you can get it from grass-fed instead of corn-fed cattle), but frankly it's disgusting enough when it's processed enough to be canned. They sure like it, though.

Annie ate an entire can of cat food yesterday, which makes me very happy. Now if she'll just keep increasing her intake, maybe she'll regain some weight.

Speaking of which, I've lost 15 pounds since the end of August, and I'm still the same size. Actually, I know why--I'm not exercising. If I would do some stretches and lift some weights and do some crunches, things would tighten up. I think. This 55-year-old body is way different from the 40-year-old version. And I've got another 25 pounds to go to get my BMI down in "normal" range. Ah well, I'm just happy to have lost instead of gained and hope it keeps up.

Annie

Annie had diarrhea again over the weekend and hardly ate at all. She's so thin and seemed very unsteady and weak--but not at all like she was getting ready to cross the Bridge. I, of course, was, shall we say, extremely concerned. I know how to handle diarrhea in dogs, but it's a lot harder with cats--for instance, how do you figure a dose of immodium for a 7-pound cat? And diarrhea in cats can be a side-symptom of so many other things. She's been coughing up some pretty impressive hairballs lately, so of course I started worrying that she might have a blockage (and diarrhea can be a symptom of that).

But she'd been off her thyroid meds for about 5 days (and diarrhea can be a symptom of wonky thyroid), because I'd had to wait until payday to refill. I'm hoping that now she's back on them she'll start to pick up again. She ate most of a can of Fancy Feast last night, and when she came out of the cat room this morning she seemed spryer and more like herself, so maybe...

There's an on-line store called Waggin' Tails that specializes in non-grocery-store foods, and has a lot of organic and grain-free stuff. I'm thinking of ordering like one can of everything to see if there's anything she might particularly like. She likes Fancy Feast, but if you go to www.petfooddirect.com and start reading the ingredients, they're pretty scary--and that fancy new stuff in the green cans is just as bad. I'd rather have her eating something a little healthier if I can find something she'll eat.

Annie-bannannie. Be okay, little kitty-girl.

fun with doggies

Yesterday a friend from my distant past suddenly appeared in my office doorway just as I was getting ready to go home. She cried. I cried. Then I thought--what am I going to do?? I can't let her into the house! So we arranged it that I left her in the puppy pen, then brought the Ts out. My fearless defenders barely noticed there was anyone there. *sigh* Timber did come over to bash her knees with his jolly ball, and Taenzer mostly ignored her while she did her thing with the ball. I did manage to get both of them to hold still (at different times) so she could pet them, but then they were off again. At least it's a good way to introduce people to them. We talked for a couple of hours, and Taenzer went top speed the whole time, which impressed my friend. We traded blog addresses--hers is about how she got her black belt in Tae Kwon Do: http://taekwondomom.blogspot.com/

Today another friend brought in one of her dogs for me to puppy-sit while she went to a meeting. He's a little smooth-haired terrier mix--well, not little little; I imagine he weighs 30 pounds or so. At any rate, she left a treatbag of dried beef lung. So I would read a little of my friend's blogg, then when Simon started to get restless, I'd break up a chunk of beef lung into tiny pieces and start working with him.

He's VERY smart. I was really sorry I didn't have a clicker with me; I bet he'd catch on to clicker training in nothing flat. He knows how to sit, so we started with "cookie zen"--"you must give up the cookie to get the cookie." In other words, nibbling, nosing, or pawing won't get the treat, but sitting quietly will. It's an exercise in self-control (he learns that being calm and restrained will get him what he wants), trust (he learns to trust that if he sits quietly and waits, I'll give him what he wants), and good manners (nobody likes a pushy, grabby dog!). Took him about 3 reps to figure it out. He did continue to do some nosing over the course of the hour, but gave up quicker and quicker. If you did four reps, he'd stop nosing on the 2nd. I don't know how many sets we did, but it wouldn't take long for him to completely get the idea and start using it as part of his everyday behavior.

I also started working on down with him. I let my hand, with cookie, dangle just above the floor. He had to lower from the elbows a bit to nose my hand, and I treated for that a couple of times. Then his elbows started hitting the floor, and by the end of the hour, he was following my hand down into a nice Sphynx down and holding it about 5 or 6 seconds. Of course at this point I didn't name it, but I feel like he got a good head start on learning the hand signal for down and a vague idea of the "stay" concept.

Since I didn't have a clicker, I was using a verbal marker ("Yes!"), which isn't as accurate, but he's very bright. You could teach that guy all kinds of things if you had the inclination. He was anxious at first about his mom going away, but got distracted by the beef lung, so I think we both wound up having a good time. I do enjoy seeing the lightbulb go on!

When she came to claim him, I told his mom that he'd better not have any dinner tonight since we'd used up all of the beef lung!

Oh! Annie ate an entire can of Fancy Feast last night and another over the course of today. I'm cautiously hoping, with fingers crossed, that we're out of the woods, at least for now.

One of those days.

Zimbra still sucks. My boss had some colorful things to say about it this afternoon.

Annie peed on my bed last night which I discovered right before I went to bed. It soaked through the comforter, which is good because it didn't reach the mattress, but bad because it's supposed to get down into the 40s tonight and I'll have to dig out some blankets. She spent last night and today while I was at work in the spare room, with her litter boxes, fresh water, food, and a kitty cuddler, but I know she was lonesome.

Timber had diarrhea on the wood floor of the living room this morning, and then walked in it and tracked it all over. I came home at lunch and thought "What died??" What a mess. I'm still not sure I got it all up.

I had a completely upset stomach last night and today my total intake has been half a dozen gingersnaps, a piece of bread and butter, and a carton of yoghurt.

This morning as I was putting my contacts in, I opened the left side of the case, saw (fuzzily) some stuff at the bottom, and gave it a quick toss into the sink, then turned the water on. THEN went OH MY GOD MY CONTACT!!!! *sigh* My guardian angel was watching over me for sure, since it caught on the side of the sink instead of getting washed down the drain. I gave heartfelt thanks to TPTB.

Timber is having a nervous breakdown because I've got the bedroom door closed so Annie can't go in and pee on my bed again and he can't get to his crate.

One bit of good news is that although she still isn't eating much, she's at least initiating it; I haven't had to stick the food into her mouth to get her started today, I just put her beside the dish. I talked to the vet and she said Flagyl can give an animal (or a human) a queasy stomach, so maybe all is not lost.

And Taenzer is being my sweet patootie. :)

babies and socks, and also Annie

First off:

ZIMBRA SUCKS ROCKS!!!

That doesn't actually make me feel much better, since I'm still stuck with the wretched thing. One should never wish ill on another, but it's difficult not to devise plans of revenge against the person who was responsible for this travesty of "an integrated e -mail client."

Having got that out of the way...

I went to see my new nephew this weekend. I had only half a present because I didn't decide to make it until the day before, and I decided to use sock yarn--if I'd used sport or even dk weight I could probably have finished up both socks, because it's a wonderfully quick, simple pattern (see here: http://www.fuzzygalore.biz/patterns/cbbooties.shtml). The short row toe is particularly nifty. I'm using left over scraps of Lorna's Laces Socknitters Rainbow. Here's the completed half:

And here it is on Leo, 4 weeks old:

I think I'd better hurry and finish the other one before he outgrows them.

Of course, if you used a heavier-weight yarn, you'd get a bigger sock, so I'll have to see if I have anything suitable lying around.

I don't know about Annie. Her eyes don't tell me she's ready to check out, but I can't get her to eat. Well, I can get her to eat a little bit, but just a very little bit. I've offered her Kitty Glop, plain chicken baby food, stinky fish cat food, scrambled eggs, and bacon because she showed some interest in the bacon. She ate the entire strip of bacon. Everything's stuck in the microwave to bring it up to about body temp, and I have to smoosh some on her nose to get her attention. Then she gets this surprised look on her face like--"oh yeah--food." But except for the bacon, she only eats about 2 teaspoons at a time. Otherwise she doesn't eat at all, even at night when the Ts are baby-gated into the bedroom and I can leave the food down on the floor where it's easy for her to reach. If I could stay home and remind her to eat every hour or so, we might get somewhere, but as things are, I don't know. If she's not eating better by Wednesday I think I may have to have her PTS. I don't much want to watch her starve to death.

You'd think with her bloodwork being as good as it was that she'd be eating. I don't know. I wish they could talk.

Taenzer is living up to the tradition of Taking Care of Mom established by her great-aunt Stella, though in her own inimitable Taenzer way. She's much more demonstrative and about 200% goofier than Stella, but she's really stepped up to the plate this weekend and helped take some of the pressure off. My sweet baby girl.

Annie and silly Taenzer

Silly Taenzer--I brought home some junk food chew sticks for the Ts when I went to get stuff for Annie this afternoon, and instead of finding a comfortable spot to lie down and chew, she chose to do it this way:

Silly dog.


Annie, I don't know. The hardest part of having an animal that's sick or old is knowing when to quit and let go. I picked her up from the vet this morning (with a breathtaking bill, just for bloodwork and overnight care; lord help us all if any of them ever gets really sick), and so far all I've been able to get her to eat is half a jar of chicken baby food.

I just whipped up something I thought would be super-duper--2 raw chicken livers, a raw egg yolk, a tablespoon of active-culture yoghurt, a tablespoon of cottage cheese, a couple of squirts of Pet-tinic (which is a liquid vitamin supplement), and a jar of chicken baby food. I was ready to add either condensed milk or chicken broth to thin it, but it didn't need it, it's a nice cream-soup texture.

The Ts approved. Timber got so excited he stood with his front feet on the stepstool beside me and his head at my elbow, intently watching every move I made.

Annie looked at it, licked it off her nose, and went back to the spot she's decided to hang out in, which is naturally wildly inconvenient, the backstairs landing right where the back door will hit her anytime I go in or out, and right where the dogs will trample her while they're waiting at a fast boil for me to stop messing around and take them out to the puppy pen. Timber's already sat right square on her, totally oblivious to her indignant (if breathless) yowls; I had to extract her. She's so weak in her hindquarters.

I get the impression that she's withdrawing, getting ready to go on to the Bridge. Maybe not. Her bloodwork is so good, and maybe after a couple of days on Flagyl (for anaerobic bacteria that live in the gut), she'll start feeling better, if I can keep her eating. It's just always so hard to know. If she's ready to go, it's not only futile to try to get her to eat, it's disrespectful. But if it's something the meds can take care of--

Guess all I can do is give her her meds, keep encouraging her to eat, and wait and see.

socks and things

Two nights ago I almost killed myself. It's a melodramatic statement, but it's the truth. Things looked completely dark and hopeless; I couldn't find any reason to keep on, not even the Ts. I've made provisions for them, should anything happen to me, and I suspect they'd both be much happier in different homes. I was all set to go out and do it.

Why didn't I? Well, cowardice, for one--in any suicide attempt there's the chance you won't succeed, and will instead wind up seriously disabled. Also I was afraid that if found they would hospitalize me, and I have a morbid fear, almost a phobia, about being in a hospital.

And finally, I've been dealing with depression since I was 15. I've got a lot of experience, and if I haven't learned anything else, I've learned that if I can just hold on--one more day, one more hour, one more minute--the worst will pass and I'll at least be able to look up out of my hole and see a star shining in the blackness. For me the best way to hold on seems to be a book, so today I come to you courtesy of Rex Stout, Nero Wolfe, and Archie Goodwin.

Here are a few Saturday morning photos:

My sweet Taenzer. She's lying with her back against the couch and her shoulders against my leg. In this position I can stretch my arm out over her, like putting your arm around someone's shoulders, and she can put her head in my lap or raise her head to give and get a kiss. She's my sweet honey-girl, and the only GSD I've had who likes to snuggle.

Annie, in one of her favorite locations, indulging in one of her favorite--er--"activities":

There's no picture of Timber because, as usual, he's back in the bedroom in his crate. *sigh* Mr. Timber, Mr. Timber, what am I going to do with you? (Comb him for one thing; he's going to be a very unhappy dog later in the day)

Finally, many many thanks to Monika for declaring that she liked this sock and encouraging me not to frog it. I think she was right. I'm calling it my Old School Tie sock.

That short-row heel doesn't look like it fits right, but I think it's because I can't get the sock seated quite right because of the needles being still in it. Or maybe it doesn't fit right. *lol* We'll see when I get it finished. I think it looks better than a flap-heel would have, so if I need to I can tinker with the next one (er--provided I get to the 2nd one--my Second Sock Syndrome has been pretty severe lately, and that Schaefer Anne and Pomatomous sock pattern are starting to call my name really loudly).

socks and dogs

Well, I'm at it again. Can I blame it on being a Gemini and having a short attention span? (I have more problems formatting this blog (many expletives deleted), and today it's completely refusing to double-space between paragraphs. Grrrrr.)


I couldn't stand it. I just had to see how my sister's sock yarn club yarn was going to work up, so--size 0 needles, 60 stitches cast on. No particular pattern in mind, just playing...

I worked about an inch in plain knit, then did a couple of rows of purl. Then I decided I'd try the Purl When You Can method, just because I've never tried it before.

(Once again, the colors are way too bright. I usually get pretty good results with natural light, but for some reason I can't get the colors to reproduce properly.)

I think this would make great plain vanilla guy's socks--you know, a couple of inchese of 2x2 ribbing at the top, plain stocking stitch the rest of the way. It makes these great little pin stripes in stocking stitch. But I kind of like the results of Purl When You Can.

I didn't think the 0s would make a firm enough fabric, but it seems to be making up just fine (thank goodness).

Yes, you're right, this makes six pairs of socks "in progress."

Topic Two: It's common to hear German Shepherd people (or at least the ones I know) say: "Yesterday I combed a Pomeranian out of my dog." Actually, probably anyone who owns a dog with a double coat says the same thing.

But just to show you what they're talking about--here's Annie with a "new friend"--this is what I combed out of half of Taenzer last night.

Annie exonerated

Well, Annie spent the night in "her room" last night, so she wasn't responsible for the big wet spot I stepped in--barefoot, of course--on the rug in the kitchen this morning. So I don't have to shut Annie up at night any more, but now I have to figure out which dog is having problems. I think it's Timber, and I think I'll take him to the vet tomorrow.

I think it's Timber because:

1. His appetite's been off lately; I now have to sit beside the former Mr. Hoover and encourage him to eat.

2. He's been losing weight.

3. He tires easily when we go outside

4. Yesterday when I let him out at 8 a.m., he peed a river; then an hour later, when we went out to the puppy pen, he peed a lot again. (no indoor peeing last night)

5. This morning he didn't have to pee nearly so bad as yesterday (since--possibly--he relieved himself in the middle of the night).

I guess I'll close him in his crate tonight. Of course, if I wind up with another wet spot somewhere tomorrow, then I'll know it's Taenzer...

I've had cats with UTIs, but never a dog.

I got a call on my brand-new business cell phone yesterday. It was someone from the national pet-sitters organization saying my credit card hadn't gone through. I must have typed it in wrong, because it's current, I've been making my payments on time, and it's only got a couple of hundred dollars on it. It was a surprise to have a call on that phone! I set up a different account for the pet-sitting, too, and there was an e-mail welcoming me to the pet-sitters organization, so now I'm confused. I have to call them tomorrow and try to get it straightened out.

I been a bad girl

I ordered yarn. I'm trying to stay off the credit cards as much as I can, but I had to order some vitamins and supplements for me (much cheaper than buying them in town), and food for Annie and the Ts, and Apple Laine is a yarn I've been lusting after and they're going to change the composition and a good friend (the only kind I knit for!) wants socks, sooooooo.... The yarn was a lot cheaper than the pet food and vitamins, believe me.

Annie slept in the "spare room" last night, and I about cried myself to sleep. She doesn't seem to have minded too much, though (and I can't get over how much better she looks after her weekly sponge bath and brushing).

But I hauled the soiled rug out to the puppy pen last night, where I have a bunch of old used rugs and pieces of carpet spread out around the edges, where the combination of roots and shade makes it impossible for anything to grow, so I put down the carpet pieces to try to cut down on the mud and dust. ANYway, I was looking at the stain on the back of that carpet last night and it's huge. I don't think Annie could have done it. I'm thinking I ought to try to get urine samples from the Ts to take in for testing. Esp. for Timber, who I continue to worry about, and who, after peeing a river when I let them out this morning, peed a substantial amount again when we went out just an hour later. (Yeah, just bear with me. I'm a charter member of the PPO: Paranoid Puppy Owners. I should have been a vet just so I could run my own tests.)

I frogged the Cannon Beach sock but haven't restarted it. It was my puppy pen knitting, and at the moment I'm trying to finish up that circular jacket, to get it off my plate. Finished one sleeve and picked up stitches for the 2nd this afternoon. Pictures soon, I think. Once I get that finished and put away until it finds a home, I can take the Cannon Beach sock back outside, and then I can unearth the Bayerische sock (which I may finish about 2011) to work on in the living room. I've got that trinity-stitch shawl going in the bedroom--I guess now I need a little project for the bathroom and I'm all set! Or, wait, maybe a plain-vanilla sock to keep in the van. Then I'd be all set! *lol*

Speaking of vans, I'm still working on the transportation problem. I'm trying to bring myself to accept either the Taurus wagon (which my sister tells me gets the best marks from Consumer Reports) or that stripped-down Dodge wagon. Everyone tells me "You need a car you like" and I completely agree, but the transmission on the van is getting iffier and iffier, and there's nothing on the horizon. I'm trying to stay open to the bounty of the Universe and all that, but I wish it would work just a little faster.

Annie

Annie may be on her way out. *sigh* About a week ago I realized she'd been peeing regularly in Taenzer's crate. I've been keeping it closed since then except when Taenzer gets her before-bed chewy, which she insists she can't consume unless she's in her crate. I've been *really* extra-special good about keeping her litter boxes clean. So this morning I came out to this huge stain in the living room rug.

It was pretty big. And neither T will wake me up if they have to go. But they both went (I watched) before we went to bed last night, and neither of them has peed in the house in years (although Taenzer will take the occasional dump), and I've been a little bit worried about Timber, who's tiring really easily these days and is spending most of his time by himself. So it's possible Annie wasn't the culprit.

I'm going to do some reading about renal failure this morning, and probably try to talk to our vet. She seems to be getting around okay. I think she's even a little less creaky since we put her on Durlactin; she seems to be navigating the stepstool to get to her food better than she was. On the other hand, she is spending quite a bit of time alone. She'll come announce to me that there's no food in her bowl, but she's not sleeping on the bed with us any more. That could be because she doesn't like the fan blowing on her. She's sort of taken over my corner of the futon as her spot--that's where she is every morning, and if I happen to sit in it, she'll either move to the windowsill during the day or move off to the side of where I'm sitting.

I suppose I could try putting another litter box out in the living room--I could line that crate she's already ruined with newspapers and put it in there, and rig the little door so she could get in but Timber couldn't stick his head in.

I hate to put down a cat who's old but essentially healthy, esp. if I don't know that she's the culprit. I mean--that was a BIG spot (and I need to get some enzymatic cleaner, if I can find someplace in town that carries it). But she's leaving some BIG clumps in the litter box; I've been trying to imagine how big they might be if they were horizontal rather than clumped. With the prospect of car payments in my near future I'm trying not to use the credit cards unless it's absolutely necessary, but maybe I should take Timber in for a check-up (including x-rays) and see if they can get a urine sample from Taenzer (who, unlike Nixie and Stella, won't pee on command), just to rule out any problems with the dogs. Then if they get a clean bill of health, try the litter box in the crate--I think I've got an old one in the basement I could bring up. And if there's still a problem, then I guess it would be time to put her down.

*sigh* It's not as bad as losing Stella--poor Annie, she's never had "favorite cat" status--but she's been a constant in my life for 19 years; I've always said it will seem like the end of an era of my life when Annie crosses Rainbow Bridge. *sigh*

kitty and knitting

Took Annie to the vet this morning. I just wanted to talk about pain meds, but she wanted to do an x-ray to look for arthritic changes, so I said okay, left her, and picked her up after my haircut. X-rays look fine--pretty amazing for a 19-year-old; Stella (GSD) had really horrible hips and at 10 was developing spondylosis. Apparently feeding her canned food mixed with water is helping keep her hydrated despite the fact that she's peeing quarts a day; that made me happy. We'll have to do a blood test in September (annual checkup)--hope I have some money then. At any rate, between the x-ray, the shot (I forget what she got--it's a pain med), the bottle of durlactin, and 3 months' worth of Sentinel for the Ts, it was a $200 visit. But it's good to know she's in such good shape for her age, and if she gets a little less wobbly in her back end, it's worth it. (And at least half of that, maybe more, is the Sentinel.)

The good thing is that I mentioned I had a big cat-sitting job coming up, and Karen's face lit up: "Oh, do you do cat-sitting???" Apparently they get asked all the time if they know someone who does. So I'm going to come up with a flyer and some cards to leave with them, and maybe I'll start developing a clientele. Maybe I should join the two pet-sitting organizations; that would look good on the flier. Anyhow, hopefully, that will help with the financial situation a bit, esp. if I have to start making car payments (still looking).

I think I'm going to try one of the pay-as-you-go cell phones--I can put that number on the flyer and cards. The contracts and stuff are too expensive, but if I can add, you know, 60 minutes here, 120 there, as I need the time and/or can afford it, that would be a lot more workable, and K-Mart has a Motorola phone with TracFone for $15--can't hardly beat that with a stick. Walgreens has a Nokia, but it's $40. I think I'll start cheap until I find out if it works for me.

I've been working on the Bayerische socks, the ocean socks, and a lace shawl (very simple--trinity stitch on big needles). But the Bayerische socks are finicky and take a lot of attention, and the needles I'm working the shawl with aren't really sharp enough for easy lace knitting, so I've been feeling the need to work on something easier, so I picked up the circular baby coat again. Easy--HA! The pattern gauge is 18 st/24 rows = 4"; my gauge is 14 st/20 rows = 4". The pattern is written in terms of stitches and rows, so I have to translate that into inches, and then re-translate it into my gauge. And I'm so bad at math. I'm really glad this is a baby/toddler sweater and the measurements don't have to be that exact, but I'm afraid the sleeves will be too big or too close together or something else vital will be off. Gauge is good, but I think patterns should also include inch (and/or centimeter) measurements for those of us who either can't knit to gauge to save ourselves or else have the bad habit of substituting yarns.