I’m so excited - my sexy Dr. Will is coming back to my TV! I have missed the hell out of watching him and have maintained his need to be on television since the first time I saw him on Big Brother. He is just made for the camera. And now, starting on Monday, the 30th, he’s going to be on Dr. 90210! Rock! I’m so stoked about that, I should probably be embarrassed. I’m not, though. I wear my love for Will badge with dignity! :-)
The other day, in a flash of inspiration, I stopped at a new (to me) Wal-Mart on the way home from my friend’s funeral. I have been wanting to check out this new store for a while, but never made the time. Something told me to stop on Saturday, so I did. I thought I was going to be able to find the hooks for my deck ledge planters, but they didn’t have any. However, I did find something that I’m just tickled about!
Check this out - it’s a laptop tray. Actually, I think it’s billed as a regular lap tray to put paperwork or books on or whatever.
I bought that red one for me and picked up a blue one for Rob. We are both loving them! Now the kids both want for themselves, too. I love how it is soft and cushy on my lap and doesn’t allow any of the heat from my laptop to seep through. I also really love the cup holder - it’s big enough for my big cups, even! And it’s incredibly light, so I don’t feel like I have a heavy load on my lap - it’s just perfect. We’ve actually been looking for something like this for months, and didn’t think it existed. Apparently it’s a pretty new item, because the cashier was quite interested in it at the check out stand. She even waved it around to her neighboring cashier because she loved it so much. The best part of the whole deal? It only cost $15! Score!
Thanks again for all your thoughts and nice comments this past week. Things are getting back to normal here and I’m feeling much better.
To update you on my brother’s FIL - they drained the hematoma with no complications and he is fine now! That was some much-needed good news.
Aric’s blood test results came back: he definitely has Lyme disease. Not a shocker, and actually a relief to get the confirmation. It would be worse if this was a mystery ailment. The antibiotics seem to be doing their job so far. His bullseye rashes are going away and he’s feeling much better. When his pre-teen attitude came back, I knew he was on the road to recovery.
The funeral for my old sponsor was beautiful. I was so glad I was able to go and pay my respects to the woman who meant so much to me in my recovery. She was one of the first people who helped me to truly believe in myself. She helped me see the beauty inside and outside of me, and she taught me the seriousness of the disease of compulsive overeating. Equally important, she taught me the power of recovery from the disease. I was blessed to have known her, even if only for 5 short years.
Last night we went to New Jersey’s only remaining drive-in theater. I don’t know why we haven’t done this sooner - it just never occurred to us, I guess - but we had the time of our lives!! We all absolutely loved the experience and can’t wait to go back. I’ll have to post more about that later. For now, I’ve got some work to do. Enjoy your Sunday!
Thanks for all the thoughts and sweet words for the passing of our Tasha - they were all much appreciated.
This week has just been surreal. First it was Aric and the whole Lyme disease thing, then it was Tasha passing. I didn’t mention yesterday that on our way to New Jersey to put Tasha down, Aric called to tell us that Grace had chewed a medicine bottle and none of the pills were any where to be found. At first we thought she ate 3 weeks worth of antibiotics, but quickly reasoned that those pills were on top of the refrigerator. It turned out that Aric still had his suitcase on the floor in his room from when he stayed at Rob’s parents’ house last week. In that suitcase were his two medications - Zyrtec and Meclizine (generic Antivert). The Zyrtec was still intact, so we figured out that she ate the Meclizine, but weren’t really sure how many were in there, but knew it wasn’t a whole lot.
We made the decision to keep on the path to my parents’ to deal with Tasha and then we’d worry about Grace. In the meantime, we told Aric to give her lots of water and food and to keep an eye on her. As soon as Tasha was gone with Rob and my dad, I was on the phone with the pharmacy to find out how many pills and at what strength were in that prescription. They let me know there were 20 pills of 12.5 mg strength administered, so I figured there were around 15 pills left. So then I went online looking up overdoses of Meclizine. I found out that dogs are sometimes prescribed this drug, but only 25 mg per day. So Grace had 8x the normal dosage. By now Rob was back from putting Tasha down and we called our vet. The vet told us the same thing we found out online and said she would most likely just be very drowsy, and then perhaps hyperactive and/or depressed. Ha! Grace was none of that, really; she just went on acting like her normal self - thankfully!
So today my sister comes over to talk to me while I was in a meeting - I saw her outside of the conference room and she motioned for me to call her when I was done. By the look on her face, I could tell something was wrong. Turns out that my brother’s father-in-law was at the hospital, from what was initially thought was a stroke. He had numbness in his arms and his speech started to slur. The hospital ruled out a stroke, however, and said he had a subdural hematoma. Tonight he is in the ICU and I don’t know a whole lot more. Hopefully tomorrow will bring some more answers - and good news. Alfie is a one-of-a-kind guy who we just love to pieces. He’s also in his late 70’s, so I’m awfully concerned.
At my meeting tonight, I found out that my first ever sponsor passed away. This woman was so incredibly special and she will be missed terribly. She was 82 years old, and her passing wasn’t a surprise, but it’s sad nonetheless.
I really hope tomorrow ends the streak of bad news for our family.
It’s a sad day in our family today. Our beautiful (in every way) Tasha had to be put down this morning. My mom ICQed me around 7 AM to let me know that she was pretty sure Tasha had a stroke around 4 AM and that she wasn’t in good condition. Rob called my dad and we headed over there shortly after. My parents were not in good shape when we got there. They knew it was time. Tasha was drinking water from her bowl when we walked in, and when she turned her head to see us, it was apparent that something was wrong with her. Her head was tilted to the right and she couldn’t straighten it out. Once she started walking, we saw she was stumbling because her entire right side was giving out on her.
After we said our tearful, distraught goodbyes, Rob and my dad carried her to the car and drove her to the vet’s office. My mom really lost it as she went out the door, and I held her as she cried her eyes out. When the guys returned, they said her passing was very peaceful; she relaxed immediately when they dosed her up with heavy sedatives, and she passed away in great serenity once the final needle was administered. She will be cremated and my parents will get the ashes. I’m not sure what their plans are for the ashes at this point.
For those of you who are new here, let me tell you the story of Tasha.
Rob was stationed at Ellsworth AFB in late 1992, right after we got married, and we made the cross-country trek from New Jersey right before Thanksgiving of that year. We lived in an apartment that first year, but longed for the dog we couldn’t have because of the apartment complex policies. Before our year lease was up, I had found an ad in the paper for wolf hybrids pups and knew I wanted one. We had found a rental house that allowed pets and were moving in a couple of weeks, just in time to be able to go get the puppy. Our baby was born on a farm in Murdo, South Dakota and by the time we were able to take her home in mid-November, it was already pretty cold outside. Winter comes hard, fast, and early in South Dakota. Natasha, as we named and called her back then, was born to a (mean) purebred White German Shepherd father and (sweet) wolf/Alaskan Malamute hybrid mother. I still vividly remember the drive back home with Natasha whining and crying the whole way. When we stopped at the Sinclair gas station with the huge dinosaur monument in front, she peed for Rob like she was already house broken. That was our first indication of just how smart our new doggie was. And best of all, she took on all the sweet and gentle traits of her mother and none of the mean ones from her father.
We had such a great time raising Tasha - and it didn’t take long for us to shorten her name. We reserved the first syllable for when she was naughty, which was really only when we were gone and she got into the trash. Tasha’s favorite pastime was getting into trash cans and eating the nastiest, most vile thing she could find - or simply everything she could find. She wasn’t too picky and we soon learned what other wolf-hybrid owners knew: their scavenger genes run strong and deep. Tasha remained a scavenger until the very end, too. The kitchen trash can could never be kept in her reach, even recently.
In the summer of 1994, I was pregnant with Connor, and Rob got sent to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba for the Haitian refuge crisis. I was 6 1/2 months pregnant and living across the country from family. We quickly decided I would go home to stay with my parents until Rob was able to leave Cuba. His venture there lasted four months, so Tasha and I got to spend quite a bit of time with my family. When we arrived in New Jersey, Tasha was just 7 months old.
When Rob came home, Tasha, the baby, and I all flew back to South Dakota to begin our lives as a family there. Just over a year later, though, Rob got orders to Incirlik, Turkey. Rob went over there first and called home with reports of wild dog packs roaming the base and Turkish locals shooting dogs at will. He was afraid to bring Tasha to Turkey for those reasons, as well as for fear of her picking up diseases. We asked my parents to keep Tasha for two years (the length of Rob’s tour there), and they were extremely reluctant to do so. In fact, that resulted in some very heated arguments between my parents and I. In the end, though, they agreed to keep her.
After Rob’s time in Turkey was over, he got stationed in Dover, DE, and we had plans to bring Tasha back with us. However, when the time came, my parents didn’t want to give her up. My mom suggested we “share” her and let her live in two different places like a child of divorced parents. Rob and I didn’t think that was a good idea for Tasha, and we also didn’t like the fact that Tasha would have such a small backyard at our town home on base housing, so we decided to let my parents keep her permanently. Even though Tasha lived with my parents for 11 of her almost 14 years, we all still considered her everyone’s dog. Rob and I contributed to the cost of her vet bills and still remained very much a part of her life. She lived a sweet, pampered life with my parents. They’ve got a nice-sized backyard where she was able to chase (and catch! ack!) squirrels, birds, possums and other small creatures that had the misfortune of crossing her path. My dad had a ritual he kept with her every day when he came home from work - letting her up on the bed for play and cuddle time. There isn’t much Tasha could have wanted for living with my parents, and I’m glad they were able to keep her as their dog for all those years. If she would have stayed with us, she would have moved all over the place, and to houses without suitable yards for her. She probably wouldn’t have lived as long as she did.
I’m really sad that Tasha passed. We all knew the day would come eventually, but it doesn’t help you get over the grief any sooner knowing it’s coming. And while I’m sad, I’m also relieved that she’s gone; she was in pain for a while now, and just wasn’t herself this whole last year. Tasha was always a very energetic dog, and seeing her this last year deteriorate in front of our eyes was hard. I’m glad to know we don’t have to worry about her health any more or if today would be the day we’d get “the call”. Today was indeed the day, but tomorrow will not be, and neither will all the days after that. As my very wise 10 year old said this morning, “All dogs are born and all dogs die. That’s just the way life works. None of us are here forever.” Indeed.
We will be telling the stories of Tasha’s good-ole days for years to come, I’m sure. She had some great quirks that made Tasha - Tasha. Whenever anyone came to the house, she demanded a treat. She felt it was her right to receive a treat whenever anyone came in. I’m not sure why she thought she deserved a treat simply because the number of people in the house increased, but we all indulged her anyway. And like I mentioned already, she had a relentless fondness for the trash. She was the same way with any and all food. Baby locks on a cabinet had nothing on Tasha to keep her away from the trash or food inside of kitchen cabinets. My parents have a big lazy Susan style cabinet that can only spin in one direction now thanks to Tash. The thing that I think everyone will remember the most about Tasha, though, is her gentle, loving spirit. Tasha would have made a great mother because she had endless amounts of patience. The kids could (and did!) climb all over her, pulling her fur and generally terrorizing the hell out of her and she just laid there and tolerated it. When she had enough, she simply got up and shrugged them off. She never once made any sort of gesture or movement towards growling or biting or other meanness. She loved our kids as much as we did, I think.
There were a lot of naysayers who cautioned us about having a wolf-hybrid. They told us she would eventually bite or attack - it was just a matter of time. They didn’t know Tasha. Her only proclivity towards fighting in that manner was directed at strange men she deemed dangerous. Tasha had a fierce bark and an awesome snarl, and I believe developed quite a reputation around my parents’ neighborhood as being somewhat vicious. Their neighborhood has gone down in recent years, and a lot of their neighbors have had their houses broken into. My parents’ house should have been a target; theirs is the most well-kept house on the block, they’ve got lots of expensive items in the house, as well as a hot tub out back that should make it clear to any passersby that they’re doing alright. However, their house was never touched. We all believe that is solely thanks to Tasha. I love that she knew exactly when to be vicious and when to be her usual, tender, loving self.
We joked that we won’t have to worry about wearing black any more now… Tasha was a notorious shedder who left her trail of fur behind her wherever she went. I think it will be quite some time before my parents get all of her hair out of the house. I’ll be sad to leave their house without Tasha’s fur coating my clothes now.
Tasha joins our other beloved pets in Doggie Heaven today. She will be sorely missed, but I’m so extremely grateful for all the years she blessed us with her unique and special presence.
