Chick's Best Friend...

So I know that you are all on the edge of your seats, waiting to hear my story of The Great Pumpkin.  It's really not that exciting of a story so you can pretty much relax about it.  But, it is a pretty amazing pumpkin so if the pictures of it will thrill you like they thrill me, then you can scootch back to the front of you seat.  The past week has been a blur of pumpkin pies and Christmas crafts with a small appearance by some Black Friday shopping.  Wow, now that I'm actually writing it, I might actually have a lot to tell you once I finally get to telling you about it.  But I can't tell you now.  My mind is preoccupied.

You guys, my lil Gracie girl had knee surgery today. *insert tragic heartbroken sad face here*  She has had luxating patellas (moving kneecaps) since she was a puppy, and 3 different docs have recommended surgery to correct it.  Well, as most of you know, pet care sure don't come cheap, so I've had to put it off over and over.  It got so bad that the poor pup could hardly run after her ball.  And trust this...that girl LOOOOVES her some ball. 

While at the dog park (which she hates. what is that about?) one day, I noticed that her leg almost looked like it was dangling, and she refused to run on it.  Okay.  That was enough.  We worked out the funding deal with the vet, and surgery was scheduled for this morning.

I dropped her off about 8:00 and thank God! my favorite vet tech was there.  She's very calm, and very good at being pet parent understanding.  She never rushes me and makes a big stink over Gracie which is what I need please.  After all, she is the cutest, sweetest dog ever.  Ever. (do not argue. you will lose.)  And Gracie has learned the art of the drama (where she got it, I'll never know) and usually FREAKS out when I leave her somewhere.  I mean FUH-REAKS out.  While travelling for T-giving, my dad held her leash so I could run in to the Ladies, and the dog lost her mind.  Bark bark bark cry cry cry shake shake cry shake bark.  Sheesh. (sidenote: it makes me feel REALLY good about myself to be adored that much by this little animal. Seriously. Self-esteem issues? Raise a puppy.) 

Anyway, today she did pretty good when Vet Tech took her.  I thought I was going to get out of there without having my heart ripped out of my chest, and as I was almost out the door, I realized I forgot to ask a question.  I turned to ask Vet Tech, and my sweet, little pup let out the longest, most pitiful whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine I have ever heard out of her.  I almost didn't realize it was her because she didn't move a muscle.  Just stared at me and whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.  Um, ok, great, so I'll just leave my heart right here on the counter, and you just call me when I can come pick it up.  Great, thanks.  Sigh.

I talked to the office this afternoon, and Unfavorite But Still Nice Vet Tech said surgery went well, and Gracie was already up and whining.  Thank you God!  She has to spend the night there though, which I was totally okay with, up until about 8 pm-ish.  Uh, no.  No no no.  I need her here.  She cannot be sleeping in some strange place with her leg all bandaged and no ball and no me to rub her tummy and kiss her little head.  But I know it must be done, and so all I can do at this point, is continue praying for her comfort and health and heavy medication to knock her the heck out.  Actually, I think I need to pray the same thing for myself.

Get better quick little baby!

The Great Pumpkin - Teaser

A Stitch in Time...

So the other day I was in Dairy Queen with my dad, and there was this girl at the counter ordering, who was completely oblivious to the fact that her pants were split in the back. Like major split almost all the way to waistband, undies on display and everything.


Also, did I mention it was me?

Yeah. I flashed Dairy Queen. Sigh.

My favorite pair of capris had recently ripped in the derriere region, but because I got mad mending skillz yo, I figured I could just stitch it up and all would be good as new. As it turns out, I figured wrong. My dad and I had been out running errands before Dairy Queen, and each time I got in the car, I could tell the pants were ripping a bit. I just assumed it was my sewing coming undone, but because the initial tear really wasn’t all that noticeable in the first place, I didn’t think much of it. Again…wrong. Apparently, you cannot make the pants be something they are not. If you try to change the pants into what you believe they should be, their only response will be to act out in a much more dramatic fashion. Thus, leaving you arse out in the middle of a fast food restaurant.

So, you know, I hope we all learned something here.

So....um.....let's see....

You guys. I am blank. Like blank blank. I keep telling myself that I am going to keep up with this blog and post every day and whatever. But each time I come to this little white box it's like my whole brain powers down. What is that about? Because I sure think of lots of things to say when I'm driving in my car by myself.

For example: Today, I learned the proper way to open a Wendy's salt packet. I'm pretty sure I dumped like 3 things of salt on my fries solely because I was so thrilled by this new way of opening the salt. As it turns out, you don't have to tear the packet open at the top. It is apparently pre-perforated (actual word?) and you just have to snap it in half. RIGHT ALONG THE DOTTED LINE! Um, excuse me genius salt packet maker?! Why has the world not made a bigger deal of your brilliance? Because seriously? Life changed, right here.

Sidenote: How delicious are Wendy's fries? And do you dunk them in chocolate frosty like I do? Because you should be doing just that. I dare you to find something more amazing than Wendy's fries in a frosty. Double dare you. You might have an argument if you chose to throw spa massage on the table, but then I would just counter with a $3 price tag, and you would again be wrong. So that's something to think about.
End sidenote.

Point being? I'm not sure really. But the salt thing was pretty cool.