Today I took Georgia to the vet for recheck of her heart murmur. The vet found out Georgia developed a level two heart murmur during her annual checkup two months ago. Since Georgia did not have it at all six months ago, the vet was alarmed that the murmur had progressed to level two in such a short time. I was supposed to bring her back after three months, but after observing Georgia closely for a couple of months, I thought I should take her in a month earlier.
It turned out that it has progressed to level three. So she has to go back on Monday for an echocardiogram. I also wanted her cracked tooth pulled out at the same time, but the vet told me that Georgia should not be put under anesthesia until we know the result of the echocardiogram.
Brooklyn was also found to have developed a murmur during her checkup a month ago. Hers, however, is a faint level one, which the vet attributes to her age, and so her case is a wait-and-see kind.
I was hoping for a long vacation from vet visits… oh well.
Brandy just farted. The cutest thing. She farts, looks towards her hiney and cocks her head to one side questioningly. Every single time. Which means if she farts again while she’s giving her butt an interrogating head cock, she cocks her head to the other side. And of course in the case of the multiple farts, it gets pretty hilarious. After all this time, she hasn’t quite figured it out.
Brooklyn, of course, doesn’t fart in my company because it’s totally beneath her.
Foster, who one would guess as the funniest farter, is disappointingly nonchalant when he farts. If he happens to be standing up, he takes a couple of quick steps forward and turns his head to look at his butt and then throws a sidelong glance towards me as if to see if I’ve noticed it. But if he happens to be lying down, he doesn’t even move his head, but only his eyes move for a quick glance at me for a second.
The most comical is Georgia, who usually tries to blame it on the one situated closest to her butt, who somehow is always me. If she farts sitting or lying down, she jumps up as if scared, with an OMG! WTF! kinda look, turns around and sniffs all around me, then suddenly retreats and walks away and sits down a few feet away from the offending spot, and stares at me for a long time with a disgusted accusatory look on her face.
Aren’t they so exactly like people or what?
Long awaited snow, the right kind –the sticking kind– came Friday. I was ecstatic at the prospect of 4 to 6 inches of snow because my poor deprived dogs hadn’t had decent snow for some time. It snowed all day starting around 10am. Then it changed to sleet and rain by the time I headed home. I was not happy. This was what happened the last time, the time before AND the time before – snow followed by rain. What good is snow when you have to freeze your fat ass while cleaning your car and waste twice as long a time in driving home if at the end all you got is just slush and mud?
Fortunately, when I finally reached home, I found that it hadn’t rained too much in this area. We had a few inches of snow and it wasn’t slushy at all, and the rain turned to snow again. Dogs loved it. They ran around with white snow around the muzzle. I threw snowballs for them. They chased them and got confused when the snowballs landed and disappeared. They pounced on a “snowball” and looked around and pounced on a phantom snowball again and searched for it with their nosed buried in the snow and sometimes dug the snow to see if the ball hid itself. And my laughter rang out quite out of tune with the snow shoveling noise in the otherwise quiet neighborhood.
It was pure joy and happiness I’ve had in a long time.
Serious Stuff. Seriously
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