I’ve always been one to say that pets are truly the answer to one’s depression, whether it be a short-lived sadness, or chronic. I have never been more sure of that statement until recently.
In the last few months, my family and myself have faced soul-hardening heart-ache. The death of my Grandfather, the loss of Yuri and other hurts. More recently, I, myself have endured a heartbreak I would readily sell my soul to never go through again.
Although my pain is not physical, the drain has often left me exhausted and not wanting to do much. I’ve been disappointed in myself for letting it bring me to this point, but I imagine others who have felt as I have, know it isn’t easy to drag yourself up by your bootstraps, like it’s no big deal.
However, because of this, I have been privy to the joys that are my pets. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would roll their eyes and plenty of those who would agree. Either way, I have found myself admiring how perceptive they all are, even the little ones, (I’m looking at you, Ianto) that seem to know that I haven’t been feeling well about life and have been sweeter than I could have ever asked for.
Faith has always been empathic to my feelings and since day one has been there to snuggle and provide me with supportive kisses throughout the last few weeks. And, well, life. The day she’s gone, I will mourn the greatest friend I’ve ever had– I hope, upon hope that isn’t for a very long time.
Faith is just one example, as she is closest to me in everything– She has seen me scream, mull, rage and cry. The others, though not as easily privy to my emotional state, still provide me with a comfort I cannot express through words.
I had a customer come into work and explain how having a dog (or pet) is cheaper than paying a therapist and I can only agree with that. I find myself seeing that every time my emotional state is less than stellar– Snuggling with Buddha while watching a movie, letting Uno run around on my shoulders, Ianto kick-boxing my fingers when I feed him, my bunnies coming to bump my hand with their noses when I leave them treats, even Paisley and her crazy antics, just to make someone react.
No matter how I’m feeling, no matter how alone I feel or am– I know I have them. They might just seem like balls of fur, but really, they’re little counselors and they don’t even know it. I highly recommend their services if ever you find yourself alone and sad.
I owe them so much:
:0}
Watson
Baxter
Uno
Naht hehlping.
Life may change, I may change, the people I love may change– But I don’t think my babies will ever change. They’re my constants (Well, and I suppose my parents too :0) and I would not give them up for anything. Maybe I’m weird, maybe people think that means I need a life– Maybe I do, but I’m happy that I have the love I have with them in my life.
“Throw the really disgusting dirty pig on the girl’s plate and I’ll get the last, completely unsatisfying bites!”
It worked. And now she’s trying to throw disgusting dirty pig onto anything edible– Case in point, I had a little cereal for dessert and had to fend of her flyby attacks. A few tries in, she very nearly got the frigging pig into my Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
So, everything I’ve ever read about Guinea Pigs’ preferences and what is essential to their diet says, they looooove cucumber. Almost to the point of obsession. I figured this was coming from people who have Guinea Pigs and sure, they might be right it’s good for them, but I don’t know that obsession is the right word for foods a fuzzy might like… Like, Baxter & Watson love carrots, but they’re not obsessed with them, they’ll turn them down if they’re upset with me or aren’t hungry.
But, because I want Buddha to be happy and healthy, I said why not and talked my Dad into buying her a cucumber when he went to the grocery store a few days ago. I should have taken a photo before I cut it, but I didn’t think of blogging about the experience until after I had cut it, but this thing is tiny. Half the size, if not less of a normal size cucumber. So I sliced up a few thin pieces for her and cut some carrots for Uno and Ianto (they get jealous) and got Buddha out to test this cucumber theory… Here are their stories:
What is it? Nibble, nibble...
OMG... OMNOMNOMNOMNOM
OMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM
At this point she was already through a few of the slices I had given her and was already wheeking for more. She also dropped a few bites down my shirt in the process and I thought I was going to have to call animal control– Because she was going in after them. I’d say it’s a fair assumption that the people on the Guinea Pig boards and magazines are right.
Guinea Pigs are obsessed with cucumber.
I’ve created a monster. A cucumber addict. At night, she’ll come out on her shelf and stare at me, shivering with withdrawal as I’ve not brought cucumber in days. It’ll be horrific.
LEGALIZE CUCUMBER!!! Oh...
Oh boy. I guess when I have my own yard, I’ll be growing cucumbers, right next to the Timothy Hay and carrots… My pets are so demanding.
You know how I said this year has been kinda difficult? And that it really hasn’t gotten any easier as of late? Yeah.
Paisley’s not helping.
This morning, I called Paisley up to stay with me until I was ready to leave for an interview. I’ve been having to do this because dork-face has started getting into all sorts of trouble when she’s by herself and if she’s not doing that, she’s sitting outside my door crying to come in. Well, when I called her, it seemed like my call was simply echoing down the stairs and that my command to have her come join me was being unheeded. This isn’t particularly unusual, seeing as she has selective hearing and will often ignore anyone who tries to tell her what to do. She’s stubborn and if she doesn’t want to do what you want her to do, then it won’t be done and that’s kind of how it’s been since she’s moved in.
I continued to call her, adding in all the pet names and hullabaloo that normally gets her to at least acknowledge my existence and… Nothing. At this point, she’d have run up and down the stairs about fifty times just to prove she can and express her prowess in “Stair Running- X-TREEEEEEME”. Only this time, she still hadn’t made an appearance.
Naturally, I became a little concerned that something had happened to her, but I couldn’t really imagine what, as my mother had only left a few minutes prior to me calling her and even Paisley isn’t capable of complete housing destruction in five minutes. So I started down the stairs, only to have Paisley shoot out of nowhere and up the stairs.
On three legs.
As soon as I saw this, I had flashbacks to when Faith had greeted me at the door when we lived in an apartment, in a similar fashion, right after she had leaped off my bed at a bad angle and almost annihilated her knee cap. When Paisley got to the top of the stairs she started crying and tried putting her leg down only to immediately pull it back up for fear of putting weight on it. I laid her down and started checking for injuries that even a stay at home pet owner could diagnose, to find nothing particularly out of the ordinary, other than my puppy laying in front of me in pain. Nothing appeared broken, her leg would still bend though she was hesitant to do it, there were no sores or bloody gashes or oddly bending toes. Just her whimpering.
Not knowing what else to do, I called my Mom on her way to work and left her a message, hoping she would get it and maybe give me some advice, since she knows a bit more about animal anatomy and such than I do. Unfortunately I had a very important interview I had been trying to prepare for before this happened and I couldn’t get a hold of Mom, so I made Paisley comfortable and hoped she would get back to me when she could. When I was finally able to get a hold of her, it was after my interview and I was just walking in the door. To find Paisley, once again, bouncing off the walls at her usual 90 miles per hour.
She was still limping a bit, but was no longer crying, so apparently the worst of it was this morning. Still, Mom made an appointment with the vet. In the meantime, I had finally received the gift I had purchased for Mom over a week previously and had been anxiously awaiting to surprise her with. I wanted it to be nice for her, so I decided to make her bed and put the present there for her to find when she got home from work. Wellll, Faith and Paisley decided to help me– Er… Get in the way more like.
Um... I'm stuck.
She of course, waited, until I had Mom’s bedspread ready to let fly and got caught in it as I tried to straighten it out on the bed. She’s always so helpful…
No, really... I can't see...
That would be a dog face, if said dog hadn’t of gotten stuck in the blanket.
I'm pretty sure she's got the pathetic look down, even when it's covered in chenille
It became obvious after a few minutes of this that she was having trouble “following the light” as it were, so Faith and I mounted a rescue mission:
I think Faith might have left her under there if I hadn’t of intervened, but then again, I might of too if I went through half of what Paisley does to her. Undeterred from her escapade, Paisley continued “helping”.
I will BITE YOU! Even if you did just help me escape!
And help…
I'll rooollll over heerrre-- Oh, I'm sorry, were you trying to straighten that? Oh, well...
And help…
And I'll wipe my face on thisssss... Oh, you were working here too? Could you just pick a spot?! Seriously!
Annnnd finally I just gave up.
:0}
Because there’s really no working around this face :0*
Finally, Mom got home and was able to take her to her appointment. Unfortunately, the vet we normally see was not available so Paisley got to meet with the owner of the office, who is– shall we say less than pleasant to deal with on most occasions. Often finding fault with us if were a little behind on shots or dental check-ups and so on. What he didn’t bother to see is that Yuri’s medications, surgeries and then final diagnosis has been a bit of a hardship, so bringing our other dog’s in for what could potentially be $300 worth of vaccinations and other details has been something we’ve had to put on the back burner. At, least one of the vet techs there was aware of our situation and let him know, that our love for Yuri has caused some lasting effects… So essentially, get off your frigging high-horse.
We can’t all be so lucky to have a successful veterinary practice and buy a new truck every few years.
However, we aren’t the only ones who dislike seeing him– Paisley took one look at him and growled. Which lead to some time muzzled as the doctor poked and prodded, but on the inside and at home, we’re all very proud of her for being a good judge of character. Just as proud as when Yuri was taken in for his first round of testing at the beginning of all his health issues and ended up peeing on the same vet’s freshly washed truck…
^..^ <– Yuri’s smug face.
I certainly don’t condone dog’s being naughty and rude, nor do I necessarily condone your dog defacing someone’s property, even if it’s something that probably won’t even be noticed– But when the staff seems to appreciate your dog’s efforts, that might be a clue their boss is mean.
Well, I guess this time around, even though she growled and he tried to scold my mother, he seemed to warm up to Paisley– This happens a lot, actually. She’s totally horrible and often humiliating to be seen in public with, but when people meet her, those baby blues and cute little smile get people to do back flips for her.
(Not me though… I don’t fall for it anymore… Nope… I didn’t give her any of my fries during dinner… Just one… Three.)
He started loving her up I guess and gave her the good treats, after deciding she had strained a tendon in her leg, which would explain the limping. Even though, when she got there, she apparently stopped. Kinda like when your kid has a 110 degree fever and you rearrange your schedule to get that very last appointment availability and then you get there and they’re suddenly a balmy 98 degrees and the doctor’s like “Why are you here?”… Just like that. Despite her not cooperating on the “She’s really hurt!” front, he agreed she probably did land on it funny and that she might have strained a tendon in her knee/leg. Like Faith, who limps when she’s played too hard or jumping too much or has a puppy hanging off her legs. So now we have to observe her for 10 days, keep her quiet for 10 days, keep her from climbing stairs for 10 days and make sure she’s not hopping on any furniture for 10 days.
Pretty much, we have to preform an exorcism and perhaps a miracle, for the next 10 days.
I’m hoping that she’s not permanently broken and will bounce back more easily since she’s a youth, compared to Faith who was already 8 or 9 years old when she hurt herself. The vet doesn’t want to take x-rays (probably because they’d need a horse tranquilizer just to slow her down) and he doesn’t want to put her on medication unless it’s absolutely necessary. She’s only one, she doesn’t need a pill box of her own just yet.
So, until she gets an okiedokie from the vet that she can play rough again, keep the baby in your thoughts. Despite there being days I’d really love to strangle her, I really do love her and would be heartbroken if something worse were to happen or she was in pain all the time. Hey, I have a bum knee, I know how it feels, wouldn’t wish it on anyone, especially a little one.
So think of the brat for the next few days, maybe your happy thoughts will make her feel better!
