So it’s midnight, and I’m folding clothes because, as usual, I am mountains behind on the laundry. I keep praying for the laundry fairy to show up and get it all done for me, but the only laundry fairy I can dream of is my sister, and she is facing her 16th brain surgery in two weeks, so I doubt she’s up for conquering my mountain. She does, however, iron so nicely…
Sometimes when I’m climbing the mountain of stinky smelly little boy clothes piled in my laundry room, I catch myself daydreaming about this commercial they had when I was a kid. I think it was ALL detergent, but the clothes flew through the house, into the washer, and came out clean! Why can’t my clothes take flight? I’d love that. Laundry is such my nemesis that the other day my mother posted this on Facebook:
Yes, yes, that thought has crossed my mind- more than once! Yet, I wash them anyway. Tonight I was especially thrilled to be doing laundry as I folded some little fleece warm up pants. They seemed so soft and cuddly, but one leg was inside out. I went to turn it, and what did I get? A handful of stickers in my fingers! As I pulled them out one by one, I thought “that’s just par for the course”.
Lately we’re just not having very good luck. Between planning for one son’s shoulder surgery and one son’s foot surgery, I’ve had to double down on the doctor appointment list as Blondie’s health has given us a few challenges. The tumor on her liver has become something more urgent in nature, and while I have faith that every thing is going to be just fine, I still have those mother-moments of worry. While running her from one MRI to the next, her little dog has decided she’d like to get in on the “everyone’s sick” drama.
It started with her copying Blondie’s kidney infection a few months back. They both had a hefty dose of antibiotics and it seemed they were both on the road to recovery. Then they both decided they weren’t done visiting the doctor just yet. We found Blondie’s tumor, so Trixie had to find a way to top that.
First, she got out of the house one night, and after running kids to and from football practice, I came home to a house with a blood trail reminiscent of some scary Halloween flick of the 80’s. I started to investigate only to find a little rat terrier with a big hole in her stomach. It looked as though someone had shot her. I called Blondie at work, and she rushed home. This isn’t a dog… this is Blondie’s best friend, her baby! So off we went to the emergency hospital where she had nearly a thousand dollars worth of emergency surgery in the middle of the night. All I can say is thank GOD for grandparents! Without them, Blondie would no longer have her BFF!!
Fast forward two weeks, and she’s not even out of the woods from surgery number one, when she decides to push her luck again. Of course she found a way out of the house, and of course she found her way into trouble. A bigger badder dog decided to send her home in pieces. My son stood outside calling her name and in she came, covered in blood, her foot hanging off, and it was a horror movie all over again. Dyl Pickles called his big sister and she said “you’re lying, my dog isn’t hurt AGAIN!”
My son gagged, my husband put her in the bath, and I stood there thinking OMG, what are we going to do now?
Off we went to another animal emergency hospital, and almost another thousand dollars later, her leg was amputated, she was dosed up with plenty of morphine, and home we brought a three legged dog.
Truthfully, we didn’t have two thousand dollars to spend on a dog in two weeks time, but sometimes, you have to dig to bottom of the barrel. You have to beg your family members to dig into their barrel. You have to look in the neighbor’s barrel to see if they missed anything at the bottom of theirs… and then you just cross your fingers and hope it all works out… I’m still at the fingers-crossed stage!
I never thought I’d become one of those people who loves the dogs almost as much as the kids, and yet somehow, it happened. I spent my last dime on a dang dog, but the bright side is that she lived to tell the tale, and she even still wags her tail, well, her nub of a tail. Blondie still has her best friend to snuggle with at night, and I am down to only 26 more loads of laundry before I can say goodnight, so back to the dryer I go, along with a prayer that our three legged luck is about to take a turn for the
worse BETTER this time because tomorrow we face another MRI…