Blog Absence (Plus Dining Room Photos)

Andrew and I have been working nonstop all week. The kids have been mostly entertaining themselves, and we've eaten take-out more than we ever have since having kids. I'm sure the kids now hate home improvement projects. We're meeting with our real estate agent on Saturday, so our workload won't slow down until then. My blog entries will be pretty sparse (and mostly about home improvement) for a little while longer.

Here are some updated dining room photos that show off our hard work. We started scraping off the popcorn ceiling last Saturday. Popcorn ceilings can have asbestos, so be sure to get your ceiling tested before tackling a project like that. Plus, it's a huge mess. Dust is still settling in our home.

Early in the week, we did patching and repairs to the ceiling. Andrew's friend came over to help us finish spackling and priming. We textured the ceiling, painted it, and then repainted the walls near the ceiling. My dad is an electrician and came over to hook up our fan and other new lighting.

We used to have a sliding back door and replaced them with French doors a few months after we moved in. The door was busted, and we were trying to install a new handle to fix it when the glass shattered. This is the only photo I have of the old flooring, old floor grates, and old back door. The flooring wasn't installed well. There were large gaps in between the boards, and it was laid over the existing flooring. There's my late, great dog, Bailey. I miss that old girl!

When we got the French doors installed, I thought they were pre-primed and painted them. After a few months, the paint started peeling. Last week, I finally got around to removing all the paint, priming them, and repainting them. Like I said, we've been busy!

Missing Bailey

I haven't talked (or wrote) much about the loss of my long-time canine companion, my beagle-mutt, Bailey. Honestly, I hadn't even wanted to think about her or her not being here. It's only been in the last month or so that I've started mentioning her and talking about her more with Andrew.

The truth is, I'm doing much better than I ever would have expected, although I haven't really started dealing with the loss, either. The good news is my thoughts of her are happy and fond; I don't linger on her last few weeks or her death. I talk about her now when Oliver begs for food or shreds toilet paper or wraps himself around my legs; these are Bailey traits. I've considered teaching him how to chase after toys I throw just to make the circle complete. Just kidding.

On the negative side of things, I don't like hearing about people and their dogs. How cruel is that? I know it's wrong, but it's how I feel. Of course, any one who is reading this should not actually refrain from talking about their dogs with me. I don't get mad or anything... I just don't like it. It makes me uncomfortable.

Well, anyway, the reason I bring Bailey up today is because I went digging through our toy closet to get the Halloween Play-Doh (We're giving out Play-Doh instead of candy until we run out of it this year. Then we have candy back up). Before I unearthed the Play-Doh, I found Bailey's Halloween costume (it's a pumpkin). That was too much for even this stoic. I started sobbing right there in front of the closet. Oliver came crawling over and, thinking I was laughing, started laughing along. I snuggled him for a little while, and then he crawled away as I finished up my cry.

Pictured: Bailey dressed in her pumpkin costume, Halloween 2007, and Oliver and Bailey at my parents' house, February 2010.

Goodbye to our dear friend, Bailey

I wasn't ready to discuss what happened to Bailey, but I'm feeling stronger now and am able to open up a bit. I love Bailey, and I miss her so much. She was a gift from my parents for my 14th birthday in 1996, and I was a very good pet mommy. I read books on how to train her, and I used nothing but love and patience to instruct her. She learned to sit her first day at home, and she was housebroken within two days. She loved to play fetch and to leap off of stairs. Mostly, she just wanted to please. She was very easy to train. Bailey was always a bit neurotic. She shook nonstop for the first week she was home, and she continued to tremble whenever she heard a loud noise or felt a storm coming. She wouldn't walk over manhole covers or other grates in the sidewalk. She liked to be invited up on the bed, even though she was always allowed up. Her favorite thing in the world was a belly rub. Also, she loved to sleep in the crook of my knees or balled up behind the small of my back. She guarded me in my sleep, too, barking at anyone who came near my room while I slept. She was my best friend.

This is the story of her final weeks.

Bailey had been staying with my parents for the last two months because it was difficult for me to try to care for her while caring for Oliver. I'd be holding Oliver while he was crying, and Bailey would cry for loving. When she had to go out, I'd leave Oliver in the house (often crying) to take her pee. At night, when I'd try to calm Oliver down enough to put him in his crib, Bailey would whine to be pet. It was a struggle for me, so I asked my mom and dad for help. They love her, too, so they said yes.

I still saw Bailey every Sunday when I went to visit my parents, and I saw her biweekly when I came over to work (I'm their cleaning lady). She was always excited to see me, but she was also happy living with my parents. I missed her terribly, but I felt a lot better knowing she wasn't being neglected.

About a month ago, she started coughing. It was a Saturday, and my parents took her to the vet. Bailey wouldn't cough for the vet (of course). My parents described the sound to him, and they insisted it couldn't be kennel cough (she's never around other dogs and is never boarded). He gave her a shot of a steroid. Bailey was like a puppy again! Her joints felt better, and she was prancing. She stopped coughing. Her hearing even came back a little bit! I came over the next day to visit with my parents, and I was greeted by a barking Bailey. That hadn't happened in about a year (since she'd gone completely deaf). It was so cute!

Unfortunately, the steroids also made her have to pee a lot. She peed in the house on Monday for one of the first times in her life (there was one other time in her life when she peed in the house, and that was when she'd had a bladder infection). I came over to clean on Tuesday and Wednesday, so I was able to let her out enough to keep her from messing in the house.

That was about the time I decided that Oliver was doing better. He was crying much less frequently, and he was willing to be put down for longer periods of time. I took Bailey home, and we did pretty well. It wasn't long, though, until she started her breathing problems again. I gave her the oral steroids (mixed with an antihistamine) the vet had provided for us in case the cough came back. After a dose of the steroids, I noticed she seemed dizzy. The following day, she started falling over (literally). She would be standing still, and then she'd fall to the side. I called the vet and asked him if it could be a side effect of the steroid/antihistamine. He told me it wasn't likely, but it was possible. He told me to discontinue the pill and to call him back the next day to report her progress. She continued to decline. As she walked down the hallway, she'd veer into one wall and then the opposite wall. She tipped over when she was standing still, and she face-planted when she walked. I hoped it was just a side effect, and so I decided to wait until the morning to see if she was better. That was Tuesday, March 9.

That night, I woke up to Bailey trembling and yelping. I drew her near me and pet her for a long while. At about 3am, I decided she couldn't wait until the morning, and it wasn't fair for me to let her be in pain. I woke Andrew up and asked her if he could take her to a pet hospital. He drove her to one near 285 & Santa Fe. There, they listened to her lungs (they sounded clear), and they did a blood panel and chest X-ray. Her lungs were perfectly clear, and her blood panel was perfect. She'd had surgeries in the past, and I've always been told her blood levels were perfect and that she's a very, very healthy dog.

Because she seemed otherwise healthy, they decided Bailey needed to see the neurologist. However, the neurologist kept regular hours, and Bailey wouldn't be able to see him until later that day. They kept Bailey, and Andrew came home. His boss let him have the day to spend with me, and I sat on edge all day.

It wasn't until 3pm that I heard from the neurologist. He explained that Bailey had a tendency to fall to the right more than the left, and she was slower to respond to stimuli from the right than she was the left. Based on that information and other tests, he said it's likely she either had a stroke or a brain tumor. Because of her history of breast cancer, he thought it was most likely a brain tumor. He told me the problem was in the occipital region of her brain, but he couldn't tell me exactly what it was or how bad it was or what could be done unless he could take an image of it. An MRI with sedation would cost $1800, and a spinal tap would cost an extra $500. We couldn't afford those tests. I told him I wouldn't do drastic treatment for cancer because of Bailey's age. He told me that they would then just treat a tumor with steroids to shrink it for as long as possible to increase her quality of life. He said that treatment would also be used for a stroke. I decided to take her home and start the steroid treatment. Bailey came home that night (Wednesday, March 10).

Bailey showed no signs of improvement at all the next day. She continued to fall down (about 3 times a minute), and she wasn't able to sit down or lay down herself. Also, when she tried to lower her head to eat or drink, it would cause her to fall over, so she had difficulty eating and drinking. I laid her in her bed so she could rest, and I put food and treats near her head so she could eat. We did OK. I told my mom that I understood I was keeping her alive for me and not for her. She wasn't in pain, and she was doing OK. And I wasn't ready to say goodbye. That night, when Andrew took her to the bathroom, she couldn't stand for a long while. Then she finally stood, peed, and took off running. Andrew jogged with her, directing her and keeping her off the streets, for about half an hour. He said she seemed to have a good time, and he took her back home.

The next morning, she threw up. It was the most vile, stinkiest vomit of all time, and she wasn't able to lift her head out of it. It covered her paws, her muzzle, and under her chin. It stunk. I didn't think it was safe to put her in the tub, so Andrew rinsed her over the sink. He told me later that he thought there was blood in her vomit.

She stopped eating that day. We bought expensive wet dog food, but she wasn't enticed. I offered her treats and mixed her food with rice, but she'd have nothing to do with it. She wouldn't even eat peanut butter. I sat on the floor all morning, offering her spoonfuls of various foods, crying, trying to get her to eat. Oliver cried, too. It was then I realized that Bailey wasn't OK, and it was no longer good for me to keep her with me. She still kept falling. The steroids made her have to pee all the time (every hour), and I wasn't able to get her outside frequently enough. She peed by the door. I held her and cried. I called Andrew, and I told him I knew it was time. I also told him I couldn't bear to make any more decisions in the matter and asked him to please handle everything. He's a wonderful person, and he did. My parents came to my house to say goodbye to Bailey and take her to the vet. I pet her for hours and cried. I couldn't imagine life without her, without hearing her jingle bells as she came prancing by. I couldn't imagine not hearing her bark anymore, or not having her sleep on my feet. There'd be no more games of fetch, no more jogs along the trail. She'd no longer help me finish my meals, no longer beg for scraps of food. This special dog, the dog I grew up with, wouldn't be by my side anymore.

I tried to be as happy as I could. I was very happy she got to know and love Andrew. I was happy she got to meet Oliver and know I was going to be OK. I said my goodbyes to her. I told her I'd be OK. I told her I'd miss her, and I told her I wish she could see me grow old. I told her about the first time I saw her and how I picked her out. I told her about training her and moving across the country with her. I described all the important events of her life. I told her how much she meant to me, of how I spent half of my entire life with her by my side. I could barely remember life before her, and now I was going to have a life after her. It was very, very hard.

My parents took her to the vet. He gave her the injection, and he said she didn't fight it at all. He told them she was ready to go. I knew it, but it was important for me to hear from them. She didn't yelp, didn't cry out, didn't struggle. She just went to sleep.

I kept her jingle bell collar. Bailey wore that collar year round. When she was going deaf, she couldn't hear much, but she could hear her jingle bells. If I'd take her collar off, she'd sit near where I placed it, and she'd cry at it. And so it came that Bailey wore her Christmas-y jingle bell collar all the time.

I haven't been able to think much about my loss. As soon as I start to think about it, I think of something else. I keep myself busy, cleaning, always working. I just can't hold on to the thought that she's gone.

Really, though, I'm doing OK. I have a loving family who is here supporting me, and I've heard from so many of my friends and family. I really am OK. I've got Oliver here to take care of, and I know if Bailey could think it and say it, she'd tell me to take care of him and be happy.

It breaks my heart that she was otherwise healthy, though. If it hadn't been for that stupid tumor or stroke, she'd be here. Right now, she'd probably be sleeping in her fuzzy pink dog bed, or she'd be at my feet, whining to remind me that it's bed time. I tell myself that she didn't suffer. She was sick for only a short while, and it wasn't drawn out. She was a happy and very loved dog.

Life goes on. I'll deal with the pain at some point, and the pain will eventually get easier. I'm glad Bailey got to watch me grow up and see my new family. She's a dear friend to me, and I'll love her always.

Here are a few photos of us saying goodbye.

Call Me Back; I Have Good News

So went the message left on my answering machine my Dr. Marie, Bailey's oncologist.

I called her back and learned that most of Bailey's tumors were benign, and so was the 1 lymph node that she worried about. Because they removed everything, she said that this surgery most likely "cured" her.

I'm so happy! So excited! And so's Bailey (as she chews on her new snowman chewtoy).

Christmas Trees and Ice Cream Cake

Although today is my birthday, I celebrated it yesterday with my family while my brother and his fiance were in town.

Andrew and I set up the Christmas tree (it was my birthday present from him last year), and he put the lights out on the balcony. I love our tree. We both have our "Baby's First Christmas" ornaments. I have my "Puppy Love" ornaments that I've collected throughout the years, and he has ornaments from preschool and high school. We also have the Peanuts ornaments we painted together last year, as well as engagement ornaments and "Our First Christmas" ornaments. The tree definitely has "us" hung all over it.

Finally, I topped the tree with my Grandma's Christmas point.

Andrew ran out to Cold Stone to pick out an ice cream cake for me, and my dad arrived at 5 with pizza and pop. Soon, my mom, Andy and Erin came, and we had fun talking and eating for a few hours. I had a few gifts to open, and I received a cookie and brownie recipe book, a new beater attachment for my Kitchenaid that scrapes the sides of the bowl, the movie "Polar Express," and some new running pants. Good stuff!

I definitely had a great birthday celebration. Today, Andrew and I are going to kick back and relax and play some games for day 2 of my birthday festivities.


Update on Bailey: Bailey's doing well! She almost slept through the night and is even napping now. Her incision still appears to be healing nicely, and she's starting to walk and act like her normal self. She's still on pain medication, though, and still isn't allowed to jump up or down or use stairs.

I'm Sorry They Took You Away

Handing Bailey over to the vet was the hardest thing, ever. She was upset and scared, but I knew it was for her own good. Still, so hard.

I heard updates throughout Wednesday night and Thursday morning. Everyone told me she was doing so well but was definitely suffering from separation anxiety. Her oncologist, Dr. Marie, ran with me for half a mile of the Turkey Trot and told me she went to check on Bailey Wednesday evening, and Bailey leaped into her arms as soon as she opened her cage.

I thought about her all the time, and I couldn't wait to pick her up. When the moment finally came, I could hear her jingle bells ringing as she got closer to my waiting room. She really did look great. Drowsy, doped up, and scared, but otherwise really great.

Every hour, she shows improvement. At first, she did nothing but whimper (don't worry, she's on lots of pain medication!). After a few hours, she was willing and able to lay down. Finally, she was able to sleep and get some rest. Last night, she started eating a bit, and by this morning, her hunger had returned and she was able to eat. Later this morning, she started drinking and pooped, and now she's even showing interest in her toys.

It's definitely going to be a slow recovery. On Monday, she gets some staples removed. Next weekend, they'll remove her stitches.

I'm attaching a picture of her from about an hour ago. It was the first time she laid on her back, so I seized the opportunity to take a picture of her incision.

The Longest Days

I've spent the last few days at the animal hospital again. Sunday, I came home to a dog whimpering. She couldn't lay down or go down the stairs. I couldn't take her into the vet since it was the weekend, but I also knew I couldn't wait until the next day to take her in. So we went to the animal hospital.

It took a while for them to see us. There were a few major cases, including one zealous puppy who swallowed a stick his owner threw for him and got it stuck in his throat (we found out later he was going to be just fine, although he'd need a lot of pain medication!). When it was Bailey's turn, I told the vet about the arthritis in her paws and the history of mammory tumors. She played with Bailey's joints and her neck and back. None bothered Bailey, but when the vet touched her stomach, she freaked out. They had to muzzle her! It looked like the cancer was back.

They doped up Bailey with pain meds and gave me some to take home until she could see the oncologist today (Tuesday). I had to beg and plead with a man at work to cover my shift so I could get in for the appointment, and my mom was able to take half of a day off of work to go with me.

After hours of testing and waiting for results, we heard some semi-good news. Yes, her tumors were back, and yes, they were causing her pain, but they hadn't metastisized and could be removed with surgery. All her other organs were in excellent condition and she's in otherwise great health, leading them to determine that surgery was a really good option for her.

So Bailey goes back to the hospital first thing tomorrow. They're going to remove all her lower breast tissue and do a lumpectomy for the two smaller lumps up higher. It's going to be a pretty major surgery, and she's going to have a long recovery, but they think she will completely recover from this.

I feel so much better than I did yesterday and Sunday night. I'm scared for tomorrow, but I feel so grateful that the rest of her body is healthy and that I have the rest of the week off to care for her (what an amazing coincidence! Sometimes, those things just work out). So much to be grateful for! Happy thanksgiving!

She Didn't Poop

Throughout our first year at the apartment complex, Andrew and I were frequently grossed out by the doggy poop surprises left around the courtyard. Winter made it easy (at least we could see it and not step in it!), but it was still gross.

Andrew and I always clean up after Bailey. Always. Well, there was the one time she had diarrhea, and it couldn't be done. So I suppose I should say always minus one.

One day, about two months ago or so, I was out in the courtyard, and Bailey squatted to pee. She's old and a bit arthritic, so her back is a little hunched, and it takes her longer than all the younger dogs. As she got up, and we headed inside, I thought I heard a woman yell, "Clean up after it!" But I couldn't see anyone, and thought it might have been something else.

Well, yesterday, we were out in the courtyard again, and again, Bailey peed. We moved on to another grassy area, when a woman stepped out onto her balcony and yelled to me, "Aren't you going to clean it up?"

I looked up at her, perplexed, and said, "Uh, she peed."

"It looked like she pooped."

I held up the green poop bag I was carrying in my hand and said, "No, sorry, she's old and arthritic. That's how she pees. Don't worry, I have a poop bag."

The woman looked at me, said, "Well, I thought she'd pooped," and turned and went inside.

On the one hand, I admire her for having the courage to confront someone who doesn't clean up after a pet. On the other hand, I thought she could have been nicer to me after I cleared up the issue and maybe (perhaps) even apologized.

What Did You Do to My Bed?

It used to be soft and white in the middle, and pink and fuzzy every where else. It was the perfect thing to dive into, to cuddle into. It's Bailey's bed.

When Bailey was going in for her first surgery to remove her breast cancer lumps, I busied myself by going to Target and buying everything a dog could possibly want and need. I bought Neosporin for her incision. I bought baby pain killers to help with her pain (as suggested by her vet). I bought soft biscuits. I bought comfy puppy jammies because she needed something to cover her so she wouldn't lick and infect her surgical site. And I bought the softest bed I could find.

See, when Bailey was a tiny puppy, my mom bought her a bed that's meant for 100 lb dogs. It had gotten bleached by the sun, so the pet shop offered it to her for $20. Bailey loved that damn bed. Its diameter alone was at least three times her length. She lept into it and played with it and lived it up. That is, until she learned how to unzip the bed. She unzipped its outer sheath and had a ball exhuming all the styrofoam-type pieces inside. It looked like Christmas with all the tufts strewn about. She had fun, but that was the end of her bed.

In subsequent years, I purchased a handful of beds for her, but none of them would do. They went unused and took up space. I did one hell of a job picking out a bed for after her surgery, though. Bailey found a new beloved bed. I placed her in there after her surgery, while she was still drugged up. She snoozed and snoozed. Afterwards, when we should try to limp around, she'd examine the room and her food and water, and then go back to her bed. It's been her place ever since.

It's three years later now. Her white and pink bed is now brown and kind of pink. It has dog hair all over it. There are mysterious stains that are likely from past chew sticks. I'm sure there's Neosporin smears in there, as well as streaks of food she was able to beg from the table.

In short, her bed needed a washing. I took on the task today by filling the sink with some laundry soap and hand washing it. Then, when I was semi-satisfied that the bed was clean, I took an armful of towels and tossed the whole kit and caboodle in the dryer. During the entire process, Bailey sat at the entrance of the kitchen, as still as a statue, watching my every move. I felt so bad for her, but my words could do little reassurance. After a while, it struck me as a bit on the funny side.

After hauling the bed and towels downstairs to the dryer via the laundry basket, Bailey decided to spend a good five minutes examining the basket, searching it for clues to the whereabouts of her bed. My heart goes out to her. I know, though, with as much as she loves to roll and play with dryer sheets, she'll be thrilled with the new smell of her bed.

New Frames and a Clean Pad

Today has been a busy one! I'm trying to make sure the apartment's clean. Tina arrives tomorrow, and she's staying with us! I'm so excited. SoooOoo, I washed some sheets and towels today, and I vacuumed everywhere.

Unfortunately for me, Bailey loves the smell of dryer sheets. I probably should have done laundry yesterday because now she's rubbing herself on the dryer sheets and depositing more hair into the carpet...

....oh well!

I also went and picked up my new specs today! I'm talking glasses, not computers :-P

Here's a picture I just snapped of the new frames!

Morning with Bailey

This morning, Andrew got up with the sun. I pretended it was still dark and burrowed under the pillows. Bailey stuck with me, and we snuggled for hours. When I finally stirred and made my way out of bed, she followed me into the computer room, where she proceded to replace me with her log.

It's quite cute, really.

Weekend at Mom & Dad's

Andrew spent the weekend camping and canoeing in Moab with his buddies. As of this moment, I'm sitting at my computer, waiting for him to come home (I can't wait! Thirty more minutes...).

While he was in Moab, I spent the weekend with Bailey at my parents' house. I did everything from run with my mom to shop to watching a movie with Aminta (The Strangers, uber creepy!) to playing Wii golf to teaching my dad how to play Mariokart. It was so much fun; the weekend went by in a blur. I can't believe 3 days off can go by so quickly!

My mom and dad bought me a cute little patio set for the balcony, and they also spoiled me by buying me a new pair of shoes, a dress, and a new wallet. So, yes, I was pampered and spoiled for the weekend.

As much fun as I had, I cannot wait for Andrew to get home. I decided to make breakfast burritos for dinner at the suggestion of some coworkers, which I've never had before. I think he'll like them! Only, I realize now, I never did buy salsa or anything. I wonder if that's OK? It'll be fake bacon, scrambled eggs, cheese, and potatoes & onion. Good, yes? And I have Mariokart all set up and waiting. It'll be such a fun night! Mostly, I can't wait for the snuggling and hearing about his trip.

Why isn't it 8 o'clock yet?

Canoe Dog

Bailey's completely wiped out after a fun day at Chatfield Reservoir. We got up early and went over to Andrew's mom and dad's to pick up the canoe. I wasn't sure what to expect from Bailey, but she did pretty well!

She loved the smells. We canoed to a little "island" and let Bailey run around off leash. After a little persuasion, she even pranced at the edge of the water and loved it. Andrew beckoned her to follow him further into the water, and she actually did. She swam a little bit, but ultimately decided the land was more fun. Good choice; she had a blast smelling everything in "nature."

After about an hour or so, she seemed a little exhausted and started to cry. She doesn't spend much time outdoors, so I figured she'd had her fill and was probably a bit overwhelmed. Do we headed back, really satisfied with our day outdoors with the dog. I'm really glad we took her there; I'm so happy she had fun.

The Art of Taking Bailey's Temperature

In the wee hours of the morning, Andrew and I grabbed Bailey, her leash, and headed to the pet hospital.

She started acting a bit off earlier this week, though it took me a while to really notice a pattern. My parents watched Bailey for the weekend, and my mom told me that Bailey woke her up around midnight Monday morning to go pee.

On Tuesday, I picked her up and brought her home. Around midnight, she started crying, but I was so tired, I fell right back asleep. At two, I woke up again and noticed her cries sounded desperate. I told her, "OK," and I got up and went to the bathroom to find my pants and shoes. She jumped out of bed and was ready to rock. Evidently, I took too long, because she squatted and peed as I was putting on my shoes. I felt so, so bad for her and didn't say anything to her because I knew it wasn't her fault. I took her out anyway, and she peed again for a long, long time.

Again, I didn't think too much of it. I chalked that one up to being my fault because I didn't wake up when she cried to me at midnight. Still, I felt some worry. She's never, ever had an accident in the house since she was house broken as a puppy.

I monitored her closely Wednesday and Thursday, and I took her out every few hours. She did just fine and made it through those nights. On Friday (yesterday), I took her out at noon and then went to work. Andrew came home at 4:45pm and found a little pee puddle by the door. He took her out right away and she peed again.

I didn't get home from work until 11pm. After I got in, Andrew told me about her accident. I knew something, something had to be wrong. But it was late on a Friday night, and my vet wouldn't be open until Monday. I wondered, "Is it OK to wait until Monday?" Then I thought of Homie, and I thought about how his symptoms hadn't been that severe, and how he died suddenly, anyway.

So I called my vet's number, knowing that, after hours, it connects to the pet hospital. I explained to the tech her pee problems, and I asked if I needed to worry about bladder infection or kidney infection or what. She said it could be something minor, it could be an infection, or it could be old age (simply that Bailey can't hold it any more). She told me I could certainly bring Bailey in; it was up to me if I wanted to wait until Monday.

I woke Andrew up, and we took her to the pet hospital at County Line & Holly. They were so sweet to her. At some point, the vet tech took Bailey to the back to "take her temperature." I could hear the bells of her collar jingling as she led her away down the hall. That's when Andrew leaned over and said, "You know how they take her temperature, right?"

I laughed a bit at the expense of Bailey, thinking of my little Sweety prancing down the hallway completely unaware of what awaited her... the anal thermometer. Poor girl.

The vet came in and talked to us. I asked a million questions. Essentially, he thought the most likely cause of Bailey's problem was a urinary tract infection (I guess they're common in older females). He said it's less likely to be something like a kidney infection because she'd be in a lot of pain, especially when she peed (which she wasn't). He said he also didn't think it was diabetes because I would have noticed a drastic increase in her drinking (which I hadn't), and he said she would have been peeing a lot more in quantity, not just frequency.

I swallowed my fear and asked him if it could be her cancer (Bailey has breast cancer). He told me that cancer can present itself in basically any way it wants to, so it could be, but it's not as likely. He told me that if everything else is excluded, only then would we worry about that, and then we would do ultrasounds and scans and such to see her organs.

He tried to do a somethingcentesis... a procedure where he'd stick a needle in her bladder and extract some urine to test. But Bailey's bladder was empty, and he couldn't. He recommended that we put her on antibiotics to see if it helps. If it doesn't or she gets worse, I should bring her to my vet on Monday for more testing and comprehensive blood work. If it does solve the problem, we can chalk it up to an infection and call it good.

I feel better knowing that the most likely problems are the ones with the lower health risk. She can fight off a urinary infection, if that's the problem, and she's on antibiotics before it is a big problem. The next most likely problem is her old age. If that's it, hell, we can buy doggy diapers for night time and when we're going to be out of the house for more than 4 hours.

I'm relieved to know it's not likely something life threatening. I'll tell you what, though; it sure made me very appreciative to wake up and find my little furry bundle snuggled up between Andrew and me this morning. I sure love that girl.

Do any of you feel like your dog/cat/pet is a part of your family? I'm sorry for everyone who's had to lose their buddy. It's not easy watching someone you're supposed to take care of get sick, is it?

(Attached are two photos: one of Homer chilling on the deck with us a week or two before he died unexpectedly, and one of Bailey on Easter nibbling on her Easter egg).

Everything is Beautiful

I check in on my cousin Missy's blog regularly (http://huggingthemidline.typepad.com/). It helps me stay connected to some of my extended family (Thanks to facebook.com for that, too!). That's not always an easy thing when you have a family as big as ours!

Today, I read about her thoughts on staying positive and grateful. It motivated me a bit to reflect on the positive things I have in my life.

For starters, I'm so happy to have our parents live close by. I get homesick sometimes, and it's nice to go see my parents whenever I want and get some Wii Golf time in. Furthermore, I'm glad to have Andrew as my husband. Today, for example, he came home for lunch, and we ate a delicious meal and snuggled with Bailey until he had to go. Having to go to work isn't the greatest feeling in the world, but I'm really glad we both have jobs during this recession. There are many families who have to worry about money and food and their homes every day, and I'm so, so grateful that Andrew and I aren't one of them. I'm also very glad that I have today off. I'm grateful to have these hours to myself to read, do the dishes, catch up on laundry, and add to my blog.

Today, I also felt really content when I took Bailey for a little stroll. She seemed to be doing much better after a few days of acting sick. It drizzled a bit on us, and we walked by two ducks sleeping in the pond under a tree. I love that feeling being out in "nature" causes in me; the feeling that everything is OK, and everything is beautiful.

Hurray for our Stimulus!

Huzzah, Andrew and I have officially paid off one of our student loans! One down, one to go. Our finances seem to be in such good order, we've started to talk about looking for a house!

Our lease ends soon, so we'll renew it for another year, but we're hoping (hoping!) that we'll be able to find something and afford something the following year. Hurray!

Strangely, once we starting talking about it, my thoughts went immediately to Bailey. She's starting to show signs of getting older, and walks with a definite limp. I wondered if she'll make it through next year to be able to see our house and play in the yard. Thinking that it's a possibility she won't be there made me cry.

It's weird, I guess. In some ways, she's really an attachment to my childhood. My parents gave her to me a week before my 14th birthday, so I got to train her in Chicago and raise her here in Denver. She got to be with me for the end of my childhood and throughout the years of teenage angst. She was with me throughout college and still here now that I'm married.

Don't get me wrong. She's not on her death bed or anything. It just scares me to think that one day she won't be here in another stage of my life. It's hard getting used to the idea of not having someone around who's always been there. Sadly, that's something I've had to learn time and again over these last few years.

Pitter Patter

We barely made it through the first rain of the season.

So Bailey thinks, anyway.

Andrew and I fell asleep around 6:30 last night, we were so tired. Some time after that, it started to rain. I'm assuming the rain kept me asleep all night, until Bailey woke us up at 1am from her fear of the thunder. When it storms, she shakes violently, and no amount of cuddling or petting or playing will help. When she'd settle down enough, we'd fall back asleep, only to be reawoken later.

Her strategy to wake us up? Sit on our faces. I kid you not. She focused particularly on Andrew, which I find pretty funny. I'd wake up every couple of hours to hear, "Get off my face." Poor Andrew. Poor dog.

Andrew took her to the bathroom in the middle of the night, which allowed me to sleep in. I slept until 9:30am! Sleeping 15 hours was the greatest feeling, ever. When I finally woke up completely, I put on a light jacket and took Bailey out into the rain. There's nothing like listening to raindrops on my hood or watching the rain hit the pond.

Bailey has taught me to hate the thunder (whenever I see lightening flash, I immediately think, "Oh crap, I've got to get home to the dog!"), but nothing will teach me to hate the rain! I'm a bit disappointed it's stopped, but it's nice to have all the ducks and birds out again.