Waiting

We are awaiting the absence of dog sweaters and the presence of flowers. The snow is mostly melted, with small piles in corners of parking lots and in the shade of houses.

Soon, our yard will look like this:

And I will forget the times this winter that felt like getting through it was like this:

I am glad when I get home from work and it's still light out. How I forget each year--yes, the sun comes back.


And then we will have this, soaking up the heat, so much that she will have to shift into the shade:

It's been a quiet winter

I don't have a lot of words to add. I am just glad to have had the comfort of her close by.

14 teeth left

This sweater sparkles, when you look closely. A present from one of the lovely clinic techs. It's from our work x-mas party the weekend before Tiny Dog's Big Dental Day.

As vets, we are not immune to anxiety about our pets having surgery. I was banned from the treatment area of the clinic, to lessen my pacing. I knew she was in good hands, but the irrational mind is a powerful thing.

Post-op: 3 blankets, a sweater, a heated bed. That is one high and sad pup.

She started with 42 teeth when I got her. She's now had 3 dentals in 3 years. Her chart, below, shows this round's extractions: red are full extractions, blue are root extractions. The large open circles are teeth already gone. Chihuahua mouths are often bad, crowded, leading to rot, pain.

Thank you, Dr Beth!

She's worn out, on her way home. But she he rallied, danced for some sliced turkey. Wonderful!: the dental blocks (lidocaine into the gums, before teeth extracted, for pain). 

Next up for a dental is Wrennie, but I am not telling her yet.

That time again: Hats!

She is not thrilled about the Season of Hats. And going out with her like this, I take on more of an air of an eccentric.

But it's all about thermoregulation and how her bat ears are not well adapted to cold weather.

She's not feeling great today, appetite off, but we went for a walk. The other chihuahuas insisted.

Then after, a triple sardine sun sandwich on the couch.

The things we do, despite

Acupuncturing my friends' pitbull mixes: each has a needle on the top of their heads, for calming.

 Seasonally appropriate latte art.

 Light reflected on my bedroom wall from the sun through the trees.

Getting out the bathrobe in fall cold weather, Tiny Dog already in a sweater, now doubly warm.

We go on, despite great loss.

76 years

After my father died last weekend, we stopped by his house. Tiny Dog loved my dad, loved to clean his nostrils, insisted on sitting on his lap.

She went up to his chair and loveseat and looked for him, looked confused. Where is the guy that lets me sit on his chest and calls me Chippy?

There is too much grief to write now. But bless Dad in how he always opened his heart to all my dogs over the years.

Here is a joint nap from July, Tiny Dog busy with nail care, happy in her proximity to Dad.

Respite from sweaters

A few weeks ago. Cold. Tiny Dog in a sweater, under the blanket, tucked into Wren's belly. Wren is always leery of the camera.

Now: 90's. Even the bat ears cannot disperse enough heat.

She gave up the princess bed, that Angela so nicely provided.

I am rummaging in my closet for an appropriate bag to put Tiny Dog in, so we can go for a bike ride. Sue and the three dogs are up north, and I just want Tiny Dog to go everywhere with me. She could not go to the cafe, nor Target yesterday. She's used to a pack; it was hard to leave her at home. She seems resigned when I tell her to stay, and burrows under a sheet, despite the heat.