Apologies All Around

I know many of you have been waiting in great anticipation for my return. Huddled by the computer, waiting for a simple "woof" from the big guy.

Well hereeeeeeeeeeeessssssssssssssss FINNY!

Yes, my parents left ME with the four fabulous felines in the care of our able pet sitter so that they could go on vacation. And can you believe they did not bring me? It's just so wrong. BAD BIPEDS! But on the other hand, I think all the travel would have tuckered out this big body of mine. Sure, I am feeling well. Yeah, I am making it but I do get tired easily. And dammit, heat and Finnegan do not mix! So honestly, I was happy to be home with my pet sitter and her two lovable boys who provide me with all of the fun loving attention a dog could want.

Now that Mommy and Daddy are home, I have been getting almost nonstop attention when they are home. Some attention is great: treats, belly rubs, hugs, and kisses. Other attention, eh, I could do without: cleaning out my ears, cutting my nails, and brushing my unkempt hairdo. I think if you charted the number of treats against the number of hours Mommy and Daddy were gone, you could see a close correlation. Perhaps they will be leaving again soon?

The kitties were just as ecstatic as I when my mama and daddy returned home. Certainly the purring could be heard in the next county of the Iraq and as such. You would have thought they had returned from a year long trip around the world, but hey, we like our human companionship.

I know I have a bunch of memes to answer but there is only so much time in the day and I PROMISE to work on them as soon as I can. Really. I promise. A little. No! I will.

I hope everyone is doing fine and I will try to visit you all to get the latest updates.

Vacations and Painting and Car Accidents, OH MY!

I apologize for not updating the blog. I promise to do all the memes I have been told to do on behalf of Finnegan. The Professor (Finny's daddy) and I went on a much need 10 day vacation which including seeing family and friends in Vermont, hiking the White Mountains in New Hampshire, and more family, friends and SHOPPING in Boston. This weekend I finally finished painting the last bedroom and the house no longer looks so ghetto! Hurray! Finally, the Professor was hit by a truck this morning while driving to work. Thankfully, no one was hurt. The stupid nasty bad bad truck broad sided him broke the window and crushed the driver's side door. Ugh.

The good news: being back in town with our lovable and sweet four (and three) legged babies!

The Story of Finnegan (yes, there are links to photos too)

Part IV? V? For those of you seeking photographs of the gorgous Finnegan, please see the links in the fourth full paragraph.

Apparently, I am way too lazy to figure out what part of the story I am on. After surviving a cross country trip with PSYCHOS (the dysfunctional cats), Finnegan arrived safe and sound in our new home. Within one month of arriving, I began the pursuit of an overpriced degree in another city in another state. Sadly, because I could not bring Finnegan with me, he stayed at our permanent home with his daddy and cats. It was hard to not have this big goofball around to play with and cuddle. For as long as I can remember, I've lived in the company of four legged creatures. And to have nine or ten months without the critters basically sucked.

So I decided the next year to find an apartment where Finny could be one of my roommates. As my second year roommate and I looked for apartments, we learned that most landlords had a list of dogs, such as pit bulls, rottweilers, and similar "aggressive" breeds that were not allowed. Obviously, Finny did not fit in that category; however, I wondered if they understood just how big he was. I would emphasize how big he was, really really big. Not retriever big or Rottweiler big. BIG. HUGE. I worried that we would arrive and the landlord would exclaim:

"You said big but I had no idea that you meant llama sized needs a horse trailer to transport eats ten pounds of food a day big. No way is this quote-unquote dog living here"

Fortunately, that did not happen and Finny is the BEST educated Irish Wolfhound ever. He can rattle off the elements of a contract better than any canine I know. Well, not really but he also went to school. Because my overpriced education kept me incredibly busy, I learned from a friend about a doggy daycare facility where I could drop him off and he would be entertained all day long by dogs of all sizes. AND, he would be kept so busy running, playing, barking, and doing whatever a posse of dogs do so that for the next day, he would have little energy and would sleep to recover for his next day of school. My friend recommended K-9 Kamp, which was located nearby and was run by a very good looking guy, according to my friends. I wouldn't know, I'm married.

Once I learned about this option, I called and made an appointment for an interview with the owner. Essentially, I had to fill out paperwork about Finnegan's disposition. Then, he had to interact with another dog to see if he showed any form of aggression. Aggression and Finnegan do not go in the same sentence. He's a mama's boy. If I dog attacked him, I would probably have to do the fighting. Even if the dog was chihuahua. Of course, Finny passed with flying colors and I signed him up for two days a week. Let me just say, that was the best money I spent my entire three years in spendy grad school. He loved it. Loved it. Loved it. And loved it. Here's the money shot. God he's cute. Yikes poor little dog.

Besides going to school and learning more than I did, he was (and is) the BEST travel companion ever. I drive a 1997 Subaru Outback and we purchased that vehicle specifically so Finny could have enough room. Of course because that's what animal people do. Every other weekend, Finny and I would make a five hundred mile round trip drive home to visit my husband and the cats. And to do fifty loads laundry because my husband, who incidentally has a Ph.D. in chemistry, suddenly had no idea how to do laundry. In order to give Finnegan ample space to sleep, because that was what he did most of the drive, I put the seats down all the way. My laundry basket, bag of clothes to wear, and giant bag full of books and my laptop were crammed in the very far back of the car so that Finny could have enough space to stretch out. And why is Finny a good passenger? Because riding in a car put him sound asleep. Occasionally, he would wake up, put his head between the front seats to make sure we were not lost, and then go back to sleep. He never puked, whined, or barked. Once or twice he might have let one rip but that can be forgiven and windows were put in cars for a reason. And let me tell you, people never ever stare when you pull a llama sized dog out of a car at a rest area. No never.

So Finnegan and I both got ourselves an education (his probably more worthwhile than mine); however, I can say that he does not have a student loan, I mean a diploma, to show for it. So there.

A Post Sort of about Finnegan

As part of learning more about bone cancer and reaching out to others who have dogs with cancer, I belong to a few list-servs such as Yahoo's Bone Cancer (dog related). Initially, I would read the posts but they were so completely depressing, I just stopped. You can just cry so much and then it become futile. I empathize with and silently mourn for those who have lost their pooches too soon to this awful cancer but I can only handle so much. Just thinking about "bone cancer" makes me ache. This is a type of cancer that I literally can feel within me. I hug Finny more when I think of the pain he must have felt before the surgery. And I wonder, after the surgery, when he woke up in a blur of pain medication, was he scared? Did he want his mama and daddy to comfort him? And that, to state it simplistically, makes me sad.

But then I realize, hell yeah! It is almost fourteen months since his diagnosis and he is trudging along, one hop at a time. He fights me every time I try to brush him as the shaggy looks is just fine with him. He pushes against me when I try to nudge him out of the way and damn, is that three legged beast strong. His appetite is like no other and if there is food, yes, please, I'll have seconds. When he sees another dog, he is all about pulling me clear across the street for some serious meet and greet of the butt sniffing kind.

So, yeah, Finny is fine, stubborn, but fine.

Not Enough about Finnegan?

It's been quiet over here in All Our Children Blah Blah Blah land. I'm guessing because it's summer (not too much blog activity in general) and I have not been writing about Finnegan very much. Well, fortunately, I do not have any medical related news. He's doing fine. Nothing exciting. And because it's been so hot, we have not been involved in any activities. It's pretty much Finny, his daddy, and me hanging out with the four felines, trying not to suffocate from the humidity. Damn the humidity! I have some other animal stories circulating in the dark corners of my mind and will hopefully be working on them soon to publish here. Of course, there will be more about the Story of Finnegan but there will be others about the felines, critters with whom I grew up, and other random tidbits. Well then, I hope you come back and see me some time.

You Can't Cage this Tiger

It took one, two, three, four, FIVE people to restrain the Donald for his blood draw at the veterinarian's on Tuesday. And he peed in the process.

That's my boy.

He's on Tapazole for his hyperthyroid problem which is now chillin' him out BUT he is uninterested in eating. A first for the Donald. I will be purchasing some canned food and flavorful bits for the beast in hopes of getting him to eat. If that doesn't work, the vet will decrease his dose.

Oh the fun.