The cringe-inducing yelp

I was minding my own business this morning, pulling weeds in the back yard.  The dogs were playing in the grass.  I noticed that the patio concrete appears to be the safe zone.  When Angel runs behind the table, Bogie doesn't pursue.  So safe play, right?

I was bent over a large weed when I heard an agonized yelp.

Angel came hobbling over to me holding her right rear leg up near her torso.  Crap.  This is the leg that had the knee surgery two years ago this month and it has been touchy ever since.  I massaged it standing where I was until she was able to put it back on the ground.    

I moved to the patio with her hobbling after me, sat down, and massaged it several minutes more.  She followed me into the house and I gave her a Tramadol pain pill.  I have these on hand for just such occasions.  As well as Rimadyl, which is doggy ibuprofen.  I had already given her a Rimadyl this morning because she had had a slight limp last night.

I massaged her some more, then got her to lay down on the throw rug. I went outside and weeded the front. When I came back inside, Angel had moved to the tile.  I sat by her and massaged her some more.  I hit one particular spot and she jerked.  I had to maneuver her into position so I could massage her some more.

All that massaging stirred up a lot of loose hair.  I gave her another Tramadol, then I brushed her for a bit, which she likes.  When I gave her the post-brush treat, she hobbled outside with it.  So I felt okay asking her to come upstairs with me while I checked e-mail, Facebook, etc.

Angel plays hard.  And she initiates the play at least half of the time.  The last time she got hurt was playing with a dog close to her size.  So this is not Bogie's fault.  Still, I am sure it doesn't help that he is 2 years old to her 5.    

At the moment, she is crashed out on the floor behind my chair.  She will be zonked out for most of the day. 

She'll be better tomorrow.  Now I have to keep her from playing so hard until it's completely healed. 

Squirrel drinking from my bird bath

Angel went racing out the doggy door barking.  I guessed that either the hawk or the squirrel dared to enter the yard to drink out of the bird bath.

Only a few minutes later, while Angel was laying in the grass facing the other direction, the squirrel came back.

 Checking to see if Angel notices:

Is the dog watching?

Drinking:

Good,non-chlorinated water

The squirrel watched, then drank multiple times in only a couple minutes.  

Then - on alert:

Something moved.

Making its escape:

Jump to the top of the wall

Get safely to the top of the wall:

Made it.

Flee:

Heading home

I'm not sure what startled it.  Maybe me taking pictures.  Neither Angel or Bogie realized it was there.  

It lives in a hole on the undeveloped side of the wall, under a big mesquite tree. 

Paw size visual aid

I talk about Bogie a lot, but people who haven't met him or aren't around Great Danes don't realize truly how big he is. 

Great Danes are the tallest dogs, though not the heaviest.  Now that he is full grown, measured at his shoulder, he is 33" high and he weighs 135 pounds.

So a visual aid - his paw to my hand.

This size dog can't be forced to do anything.  You have to convince them they want to do what you tell them.  

So far, so good. 

The little things DO matter

Sometimes we fail to take action because we can't make the grand gesture.  But really, it's the little things we do that make a difference to people.

Recently, a favorite animal columnist mentioned that his eldest dog had died.  I wanted to offer my sympathies, but figured he would be inundated.  Why bother?  But I emailed him anyway.  It was just two simple, but heartfelt lines of sympathy and understanding.  I never expected an acknowledgement.  So I was quite surprised to get a two paragraph response thanking me and expanding on what he had written in the column.  

I had taken the time to write.  And it had mattered.

The other day, I went to my corner convenience store to get my weekly lottery tickets.  I always use the same play slips, stored in a worn vinyl sleeve.  The clerk not only noticed that I removed my slips from a sleeve, but noticed it was tattered.  She offered me a new sleeve.

I'm sure the sleeve came from the lottery commission.  It cost her nothing.  But it made my day.

Little things matter.

The bank cashed a check for me against their normal policy.  My friend used her credit card points to pay for something I was going to buy.

These are actions I will remember.  They mattered to me.

A quick Facebook birthday wish.  An offer of sympathy when a job is lost or a loved one passes. Noticing when someone is down and taking the time to listen.   Complimenting someone on a job well done or even just the attempt to do something new.  These cost you nothing, but can make a world of difference to the person affected.

They say it's the thought that counts.  But not if you don't act on the thought.

Life is pretty quiet

Not much happening.  Some phone interviews, a couple in-person interviews.  The rest of the time I'm just hanging out.

I'm catching up on my reading.  Between AbeBooks, the VNSA book sale, the digital and regular library, I have read almost all of J. A. Jance's books.  Recently I had been reading more cozy mysteries, but I've gotten snagged by her police procedurals.

This has been a little unusual for me in that I have been reading the books in whatever order I can get them.  I'm usually pretty anal about reading a series in exact order.  It isn't as distressing as I imagined having to remember that this character isn't yet married to that one, and this other character hasn't been introduced yet.

Next up, I borrowed an omnibus with the first nine of  Tess Gerritsen's Rizzoli & Isles stories from the digital library.  I like the TV series with Angie Harmon and Sasha Alexander.  We'll see if I like the novels. 

I still have this concept that I should be accomplishing something in my copious time off.  Write a book.  Create another piece of stained glass art.  But truth be told, I am enjoying not doing anything. 

When I'm not reading, I still go to the gym 4 or 5 classes a week.  I walk the dogs and don't worry about getting home in time to go to work.  I watch TV.  I play games.  I watch the birds in my back yard.  I play with the dogs. 

I recently had lunch with a friend who is also unemployed.  It was nice to be able to sit for 3 hours and not have to worry about getting back to work. 

The upside of this is my neck and shoulders ache much less than when I was working.  

The downside, of course, is that my severance will run out at the end of the month.  

I think I really need to decide what I want to be when I grow up.  

Or win the lottery. 

Blooming Palo Verde tree

Picture of the Palo Verde tree in my backyard.  It was planted October 2011 to replace an Acacia tree that got blown down in a micro-burst.

I am enjoying the less fearful life.

I recently wrote about not being so fearful. I resolved to stop being so fearful

So far it's going really well.  I have found that I am much more relaxed.  Yesterday, I enjoyed a long, leisurely lunch with a friend who is also not working.  I am sleeping better.

And contrary to being afraid of not finding a job soon, I am actually looking forward to having a lot of time off.  It would deplete my savings, but there is so much that I could do.

Teach the dogs new tricks (or better manners)
Read a lot of books.  I have reacquainted myself with the library, rather than always buying books.
Write more.  I've started two books, but haven't gotten past chapter two on either of them.
Finish my household to-do list.  I have painting, cleaning, fixing to do.
Do more yoga, boxing, walking, etc.
Catch up on movies.

So many things to do.  And now the time to do it.

Updated:  I even got a rejection.  It was a supremely flattering rejection as rejections go.  And instead of getting down and sad, I was thrilled by the compliment.

I'm liking this new feeling.