Toad Bites Dog

Bloody Roger!  This dog is approximately 9 years old.  He has lived with the poisonous cane toad hopping around our back yard for all his life and ignored them.  Until last night.  At bed time.  My bed time.  He and I were in the back yard last night, I was hanging out washing just before going to bed.  He was biting a cane toad.  Oh and you know what?  Poison tastes bloody horrible in your mouth apparently. 

We rang the vet.  He told us to hose his mouth out for 10 minutes, rub his gums and inner mouth area and keep him calm.  Do you know many dogs who can keep calm while you hose out their mouth?  Probably more than I imagine.  But a staffy?  But Roger?  It took three of us.  The Young Negotiator was there to stop him from backing out had hold of the little nugget body.  The Dynamic Daughter was on hose duty.  (Don't wash the poison down his throat either).  I was on washing and rinsing duty.  Apparently the poison sticks to surfaces and begins transferring its toxin so that is why you need to rub his tongue, gums, teeth, mouth and not get bitten for your trouble. 

Truth be told he was pretty reasonable considering.  We must have removed all the poison because he stopped frothing and shaking his head.  We were all pretty wet and smelly (you know, wet dog smell) at the end of it.  I don't know whether he will bite a toad again because how much he associates that attack with everything that happened afterwards is any body's guess.  I am hoping not.  Bloody dog.  OK, I am happy he is fine. 

There is nothing like slipping into freshly laundered sheets with pillow and doona fresh from being in the sun all day and having that lovely and unique Eau de Wet Dog come between you and your loved one.

Brain Goes to Mush

OK, I told you I stuffed up my colonoscopy appointment month, and I accused my mobile of not charging when I didn't have the plug turned on, well... there is more.  Sigh.  My brain has become mashed peas with the occasional floatie piece of soggy white bread (no substance).  Let me list them for you.

1. I am allowed 200MB data a month on my mobile plan.  I usually don't even get close to that usage but this month I was panicking.  Oh my God, after 3 days into the new month my data usage was soaring.  I switched everything off, apps, updates...what had I done?  I had no idea.  When it got over 245 I was going to lose the plot, such as it is.  Then, I realised it was counting in KB not MB.  Derr sister!  When it got to 1MB I had to laugh.
2. Bought a shopping basket to attach to the carry rack of my push bike.  Oh yeah, she was a beauty, simple to install and would carry my stuff.  Only, I decided to install it when my poor brain was already strained from too many scathingly brilliant ideas racing through it.  First go, I attached the four screws and washers to the to mounting plates beneath the basket.  Fiddly but not overtaxing.  Easy.  Except when I was finished, the basket was not, in fact, attached to the carry rack.  Oh the mounting plates were attached alright but they were completely separate from the rack.  Yep I could see the problem straight away because I am that clever.  But Mrs Fixit/Never Say Die/Too Proud to Ask for Help tried again.  Second time I incorporated the rack and it was definitely attached this time but the brackets were facing the wrong direction.  Sigh.  Third time I had the basket attached to the rack, the brackets in the right direction and voila!  So proud.  Eventually.
3. Soul Sister and I went bike riding on a designated bike track in another town recently.  It was a long, long ride and because we talk, talk, talk and laugh, laugh, laugh and carry on like pork chops I was exhausted by the time we finished.  As we were installing the bikes onto my bike rack Soul Sister realised I was having trouble finding my words.  A sure sign that my brain was in another dimension.  I was a bit wobbly on my feet so she asked me gently if she could do the driving.  Oh yeah, you know what, that is not a bad idea.  Huh!  Utter brilliance.  Soul Sister was moving into survival mode obviously, she wanted to arrive home in one piece.  Fussy.

There are probably more but I can't remember them at this point in time.  Hmmph.  Probably cannot completely blame the brain injury, although it is one lifelong excuse to be used at will.  It could be early onset senility, some strange disease brought on by a mosquito bite, a miniature space ship moving around in the brain, early signs of menopause or just the fact that I am a ruddy great goose.  No comments from Twisted Sister thank you.  I know which you would say.

From a Dog's Perspective

ROGER: Staffordshire bull Terrier, mad as an axe, ADHD, cyclonic.

LAYLA: Retired and rescued greyhound.  Calm, quiet and always hungry.

Visitors

Roger:  Was that... is it... oh yes it was a car door slamming.  LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME.  I love you, I don't know who you are yet but I love you.

Layla:  Is someone here?  Excitement.  Maybe they will have food.  Maybe they will love me.  I always need love.

Roger:  It's the grandparents.  I LOVE the grandparents.  Grandad loves me!  Grandma too but with restrictions.  I want you both I WANT I WANT I WANT.  What the... the Pack Leader Mum has me by the collar but I will pull.  Maybe she will let go.  She is talking to me but all I hear is blah blah blah Roger! Those legs, I. must. lick. those. legs.  Grandad's legs are long and skinny and hairy.  His legs play with me and chase me.

Layla:  Grandparents.  I love them.  Do they have food?  Have they touched food lately?  Will they still smell of food?  Wet nose in their hands will tell me.

In The House

Roger:  The kitchen is off limits when food is being prepared or when the family are eating.  This is so hard!  I break the rules every day and every day I am sent out but one day they might forget and not notice me.  The cat can come and go as she pleases and she does this to show off.  I don't care.  I am bigger than her. 
If Pack Leader Mum is at the computer too long I bark at her.  If she swears or sighs or is upset I talk to her and come to comfort her.

Layla:  The kitchen is off limits when food is being prepared or when the family are eating.  If I walk very slowly and quietly, don't let my nails click on the floor I can bypass this rule.  The floor can contain smidgens of morsels of edible stuff.  The bin is my mecca.  I must get to the bin.
Wherever Pack Leader Mum is I am.  She often forgets things and goes up and down the hall or in and out of the house many times but I must stay with her.  I used to be lonely and isolated and I will never again be lonely and isolated. 

A Walk

Roger:  Smells are everywhere.  Here, there, all over the place.  Oh I gotta' pee.  I am in a big hurry.  You never know when the world might end or we have to go back home.  Quick quick quick.  Oh I gotta' pee.  Jackpot!  Calf poo.  I gotta' eat it before Layla finds it.  Scoff, choke, hack, scoff.  Oh I gotta' pee.  Oh yeah, carcass of rodent.  Mmmm, roll in that, roll roll roll.  I smell great. 

Oh Pack Leader Mum is calling home.  Quick quick quick.

Layla:  Freedom, run run run.  Smells everywhere.  Where is that rabbit?  Squat and pee.  RABBIT RABBIT RABBIT rabbit rabbit rabbit.... gone.  Ooh calf poo.  Eat it before Roger.  Where is that rabbit?  Smells everywhere.  Oh there is Pack Leader Mum at the top of the hill.  She loves me.  We are too far apart.  Run run run.  Puff puff puff.  Where is that rabbit?  Oh baby, calf placenta!  Roll roll roll.  I smell great!

Pack Leader Mum is calling home.  Gotta' go.  Do not want to lose my family.

An Outing

Roger:  Car trip!  Puff puff puff I am so excited and we haven't left home yet.  Ooh ooh ooh someone I don't know walking past the car.  I LOVE YOU!
On leash in open air and I want to sniff sniff sniff.  Oh I gotta' pee.  Person... I LOVE YOU.  I want to lick your legs.  Running away?  How exciting, me too.  Dog... I really want to know you before I decide whether to attack or play.  Pulling pulling pulling.  The lead may give way, I might be able to chase all those people/dogs/inanimate objects.  Oh I gotta' pee.

Layla:  Car trip?  Oh OK.  Mixed feelings of excitement and trepidation.  Pack Leader Mum and Dad drive round bends and my lo-o-ong legs have to surf them in a confined space.  Roger's excitement is catchy. 
On leash in open air and I stick close to my Pack Leader.  They might try and separate from me.  Dog... if I don't look at them maybe they will ignore me.  Eww they are sniffing me.  Stand tall and think of something else.  Food.  No time to sniff.  Got to focus on staying with Pack Leader.  Person... stay cool, don't do anything.  Oh a pat, lovely, I will take that.  I gotta' crap right here and right now.

Bed Time

Roger:  You are running late Pack Leader.  It is time, I am restless.  Are we going out yet?  Oh yay, it's time for my bedtime biscuit.  Big, hard biscuit.  Chained to my kennel first and then biscuit.  Chomp, crack, choke, cough, chomp.  Mmmm. Bed time with the mozzies.

Layla:  Are you sure it is that time?  What if I lie here just a bit longer.  Ooh biscuit, I forgot I was hungry.  You go first, there are toads out here.  Chained to my bed in shed and then biscuit.  Very gentle when I am given the biscuit.  Biscuit very hard.  Pack Leader leaves and I lie down and eat.  I want to be in the house with the family.  I am chained now because I wrecked the door to my shed. I stress when I am separated from the family.  But I know I will see them in the morning.  I will not be lonely or isolated again.  They even give me breakfast so I know I won't starve.

I'm So-o-o-o Embarrassed

This will make you laugh.  It is embarrassing but it is funny.  In my previous post I talked about starving, dying etc.  Well, it is not strictly true anymore.  Now remember that I have a brain injury (that old chestnut) and am approaching the age of menopause and am a busy mum with lots on my plate, so to speak, pun intended.  Let's not consider the fact that I might be a goose, a dimwit, a total lame brain.  Let's just leave the name calling aside and blame my age or brain or motherhood.

This afternoon I phoned the day surgery about my colonoscopy tomorrow to confirm a time as you do.  Luckily it was before I took the first Drano solution to empty out my digestive tract.  It appears I read the date wrong and my procedure is not until the beginning of next month.  Oops.  All that complaining, all that suffering, all that clear liquid and it was for naught.  And, I gotta' do it again next month.  Wow.

But what really has me tossing down the chocolate biscuits is when I phoned the Lovely Husband (and I use the term loosely) to tell him of my mistake he turns around and proceeds to share with his workmates, all of them.  Oh how funny it was, he thought.  Then, I say, then, he tells them about how about two weeks ago I was bitching and complaining about my relatively new mobile phone not working, not charging and I was going to deal with the stupid phone company, the stupid contract I was locked in, the stupid charger.  Except when I went to unplug it, I saw that I had not actually turned it on at the power point.  Duhh!  Needless to say, the phone is fine, the phone company unharmed and the charger functioning normally.  Unlike my head.  Sigh.

Must go eat now, I have some serious catching up to do.  It will not consist of jelly, clear soup or yet more water.

I'm Star-r-r-rving

OK, I am about to share more than I would usually but I need the distraction.  Just warning you.

Tomorrow I am having a colonoscopy.  Yep, one of those lovelies.  So yesterday I had to not eat fruit, fibre, veggies, red meat etc.  I could have low fat dairy and lean white meat.  That's alright.  I can cope. 

Today, I am allowed no solids, no milk products, no food!  I am allowed clear liquids eg. clear juices, jelly, strained chicken noodle soup.  That sort of thing.  Holy Crap! (Get it?)  Food is so-o-o important to me.  This is killing me.  (Slight exaggeration, only slight).

This afternoon I have to consume some stuff, some dosed water, some chemical that will empty my bowel like a good dose of salmonella poisoning, like an Enyo cloth for the inside, like a fire hose has been shoved down my throat and will straighten out my small and large intestines.  (Again, I don't exaggerate greatly).  Holy, holy CRAP!

Help. 

Tomorrow, I have to have nothing four hours before procedure.  I think I have said it all.  My life is HELL.  Hell I tell you.  Of course, this comes from a spoilt woman who considers food to be the staple of her life (funny about that). 

I will survive.  I am a survivor.  I didn't say I wasn't a whinger.  I also didn't say I don't feel sorry for myself.  I certainly would never say I enjoy starving to death.  But I do like a good exaggeration.

Greyhound Run

Imagine the theme music for the old 6 million dollar man TV show

Our Layla Greyhound is a failed racer.  She was washed up at the age of 3.  When we first got her she did not like walking on the grass very much.  In the paddocks she would follow the cattle paths and avoid "nature" at all costs.  Now at the age of 9 she is a happy farm dog who dislikes walking on the road.  Paddocks are her preference and rabbits are her focus.

We have had a lot of rain recently and the dogs have not had the walks they usually get.  Cabin fever has affected us all but none more than Roger our Cyclone Staffy.  So, in a recent break in the weather I took both dogs for a run in the paddock.  Layla was seen to run off into the long grass after what I assume was a rabbit.  She met met at the top of the hill, puffed but happy.  On the way down the hill she and I saw another rabbit.  Only this time there was sheep fencing between her and her quarry.  Still, it made for a fun chase up and down said fence.  Before we reached the foot of the hill she took chase yet again only this time the grass was longer and thicker in patches.  My brindle greyhound was seen doing Bambi like romping in and out of the long grass, ears erect and eyes alert.  She leaped around for some time and was very entertaining.  Just a note here, she has not managed to catch any rabbits, hence her probable failure on the race track.

Back at the house Layla looked like heart attack material.  She was so puffed she was almost wheezing.  Her poor old chest was heaving air into her lungs and her tongue was about as wide as it could get.  But, for a rescue dog who was brought up in a cage and was not used to grass, this is fantastic to see her so happy in her half dead state.  What a way to go eh?

The Unemployed Teenager

The Young Negotiator is 18 and out of school for good.  He knows not what he wants to do with his life.  For now he needs a job, a paying job so he can live, spend, have fun and think about his future.  I have noticed the teenagers in this predicament all think they will get that job and be done with it.  We do not live near a big city.  There are many, many teenagers who left school and are looking for work, untrained and inexperienced teenagers.  Their confidence was admirable but now reality is sinking in and there are many, many unemployed teenagers.

 My answer?  Volunteer!  The Young Negotiator was told if he did not find paying work he would be doing volunteer work for charity.  He has his casual job with a large chain supermarket but the shifts are few and far between.  But three days a week he has work, two days in one Opportunity Shop and one day in another.  It took some encouragement (pushing) but it is working quite well.  In the two day a week job he is actually being trained in retail and they are very happy with him and his attitude.  They often get young people 'volunteering' because they want to continue to receive govt. benefits or for community service and their attitude can be less than enthusiastic apparently.  The Supervisors think him marvellous for volunteering (he failed to mention his pushy mother) and his confidence is building.  Even the Young Negotiator can see the benefits now.  In the one day a week Op Shop he is one of three men to go out in the furniture truck picking up and delivering second hand furniture, TVs (the older, far heavier type) and various donated goods.

The Young Negotiator is an Extreme Book Worm, Computer Gaming Freak, Card Playing Jockey.  He does not, in normal circumstances, move furniture/TVs.  This experience has been an eye opener for the skin and bones we call our son.

First Week:
"I really think they need to update their OH & S information Mum.  That stuff is heavy!" 
I remain outwardly neutral.  Inwardly I giggle at the thought of my poor young man doing hard work.

Second Week:
"I'm exhausted.  I don't know if I will keep this up.  There are some people working there who don't want to be there.  It is a bit depressing"
Aaah, welcome to the work force sunshine.

Third Week:
"I still don't like it but I think I will stick with it for the moment"
What's that?  A bit of resilience coming through?

Fourth Week:
"Look at my hands, I have calluses!!!"
Mmmm, I had them as a child from riding my bike all day.

The Young Negotiator has decided he does not want to work in the furniture moving industry.

He is learning and even admits, after direct questioning (the only way to get information), that it is a good thing.  He can definitely see the benefits and has improved his resume and his references with this experience.

I love that kid and he cracks me up but the Young Negotiator will survive the work force with a new appreciation of how lucky he is, how to get along with all kinds of people and that experience matters and calluses are not the end of the world as we know it.