GROSS!

WARNING:

If gross things gross you out, do not look at the picture in the middle of this post!

I was supposed to be at my momma's house helping her pack. But plans changed last minute. Our puppy (or 10year old Golden Retriever, however you want to see it) had to have surgery on his eye. It turned out to be more invasive than planned (yes that also translates to more expensive - joy) and now he can't be home alone all of Jason's 13 hour days and he can't do long car ride either. So home I am...tending to our wounded little love.

What was originally thought to be an indolant ulcer (wound on eye that won't heal) that needed a simple keratotomy (play tic tac toe on dogs eye with a needle), ended up being a distichia (eyelash growing on inside of eyelid inwards toward eye...causing wound on eye that won't heal because it's constantly being scraped by said rogue eyelash) that needed ablation (zap that rogue eyelash out!).

And all that means that my dog ends up looking like this (POOR THING) for two weeks:

Yes, he still has a right eye.

It just looks like he doesn't because his third eyelid has been pulled up over his eye and stitched to the upper eylid in order for everything to heal properly.

Oh poor thing! He's eternally clumsy, unable to figure out how to manuver with this aweful cone contraption. He's forever running into things, and getting stuck on things. But probably the biggest tragedy of all is that he can't chase his beloved tennis ball because he goes full bore and slams his cone into the ground or snowbank every time he's in hot pursuit of that little yellow bouncer!

Mr. Quinn's Kitty Diagnosis

Well, you've heard a lot about our dog, but I'm not sure you've been introduced to my kitty. I say "my" because I had Mr. Quinn before we were married. Sure Jason loves him, but whenever he does anything bad he's "my" cat. And so for the purposes of this post he's "my" cat.

So as not to unduly prejudice you against Mr. Quinn, I am going to share some of his finer qualities with you before I move on to the actual story I wanted to tell you about him. He is an amazing animal...more like a dog or a human than a cat.

1.) He has no "off mechanism" when it comes to the eating. If he was given food 24 hours a day, he would sit there and eat until his stomach swelled and exploded into a meow mix mess all over the kitchen. As a result of this quality he used to weigh 18.7 pounds. Mmmm, that's not a typo 18.7 pounds.

2.) He had to go on a veterinarian mandated diet...only 1/4 cup of food a day. Now he weighs 14 pounds! Yeah buddy! As a result of the lack of food though he's developed some other behaviors.

3.) When we eat, he sits aproximately 2 inches from your plate and begs. If you give him ANYTHING, he will eat it. He has eaten beans, chips, corn and yes, even a jalepeno!

4.) Also, when he gets hungry, you'll know it. How? Because he will walk over to our (quivering) 65 lb. golden retreiver and hit him, yes strike the dog with his paw while hissing and making a weird gutteral meowing sound. He does this because it's the one thing he's found that will get us to pay attention and give in and feed him. (As a result, our golden retreiver never walks within a 10 foot radius of Mr. Quinn and NEVER makes eye contact with him.) And some other wonderful qualities...

5.) He gives kisses.

6.) He lets me clip his toe nails and hold him in my arms like a baby.

7.) When he hears someone in the driveway or at the door, he bristles his hair and runs to the door to protect me.

8.) He crawls under the covers with us and often wakes me up in the morning by grooming my hair.

Okay, so do you love him? Good. Then I can tell you this story and you won't hold it against him... The other day I made a trip down to our (partially finished) basement to do a little creative memories at my fold out table, when, all of a sudden my sniffer caught a wiffer of a foul odor. Musty basement, I thought at first, but no. I continued to follow the old nose and alas, it led me to the source....a virtual LAKE of cat pee on our futon. (Don't worry Jen, not yours, the other one.) This was not a one-time pee. This was Quinn's "I've found a new litter box that I'm going to pee in EVERY TIME I HAVE TO GO" pee. And by my aproximation it was at least several weeks worth.

Needless to say, the futon is at the dump now. Also, we took Mr. Quinn to the vet to see if he had a urinary tract infection. No. NO he did not. Our vet, Dr. Richie (who by the way is an AMAZING vet) did a thorough job asking lots of questions and finally pinpointed the problem. He tracked the beginning of the issue to about the time I started my new job. And the diagnosis? Mr. Quinn has Kitty Anxiety! Yes, that's right. The change in my schedule and me being gone so much more had thrown Mr. Quinn into the depths of anxiety. He loves me and doesn't know what to do without me! And why, you ask, does this explain the pee? Cat's like the smell of their own urine. It is comforting to them. Mr. Quinn is stressed and feeling upset and smelling his own pee makes him feel better. Yup. Awesome!

Do YOU have an EAO workplace? I DO!

Look at that face! Wouldn't it make you happy to see that face when you walked into work in the morning? Well, at Families United that could very well happen! What was I greeted by today as I walked into work? The lovable face of a 7 month old chocolate lab. "Dogs are allowed here!?" I exclaimed. Yup, they sure are. Aparantly my office is "very dog friendly". They weren't kidding. Later, as I sat reading more policies in my office, I heard the jingle of a dog collar, thinking it was my little chocolate friend, but no! It was another adorable pup named Rusty. And still later, one ginormous long haired grey hound (I don't know what they're called) went trotting by as well. I mentioned I didn't know how well my dog would do because he loves people so much I think he'd be too excited. At which point two people piped in and told me I should at least try it and see how it goes. That's very very exciting. So I'm thinking that Hunter might be coming to chill at the office on paperwork fridays!



What's that? You feline friends want to know if my social work agency is descriminating against the kitties? Of course not! Aparently one woman brings her cat to work, and he keeps her company sitting right on her desk as she types away. We're an EAO (Equal Animal Opportunity) workplace. I think it's very progressive...should catch on like wildfire!