Schrodinger's Blog
I'm sure it's not just me who realizes that when you start to chronicle your life in a public forum you are really not living the life you did before that chronicle got to be public. Are you feeling me on this one?
I generally talk about the events that happen in a day in the life and I use my hands a lot to do that, so I guess I'll have to find other forms of emphasis.
So, as I have mentioned I have three sons, in addition to that, there are three dogs, up until February 2005 there were four but our beloved Lucy or Lucy-in-a-can as she's referred to now, died after a fantastic ten years of recovery from former owner's abuses. She had a 22 caliber bullet in her shoulder when the Bouvier rescue league got the call about her somewhere around Toledo Ohio. Apparently she had been a bait dog for fighting dogs as in- a dog to rile them up a bit. Bouviers have a very thick two coat system and they are really good for not dying when being used as bait. So anyway one of the fascinating characteristics of Lucy's abuse was that she relived her shooting everytime there was a thunder storm. She would inadvertently escape the house and go out into the storm so she could really get down to the nitty gritty of her fear.
Jack was three weeks old when we went to look at her, because you really need to add an extremely neurotic abused dog to a household with three kids under 5 years old.
So, we went to this fantastic house and there were five or six massive Bouviers running around and then came Lucy malnourished, somewhat hairless and not a very pretty bouvier rep. I sat down on the floor and that was it for the rescue league. Something like 25 people had come to see her or put in an application to have her be their own bundle of neurosis. But, because I "the crazy lady with three little boys" got on the floor (three weeks after giving birth at home to a ten pounder) to see what she would do to an individual smaller than her, got the prize. Lucy was a prize, she had a deep soulful personality when you got past the I'm going to make you chase me in lightning issue.
So, We are down to three, two Daschunds ( one a mini the other a tweenie) And another Bouvier named Stella from the rescue league again. Griffin, the tweenie was a rescue as well, he likes to bite people he doesn't know just to let them know he was abused, neglected and left with a broken rib to heal wrong. This works because no one comes to our house and if they do we say " cage" and he gives us the look of yeah, I'm a biter I'll go watch from behind the bars.
Oh, and then there's the cat that we were contractually obligated to accept when we bought our last house and tried to play that off on the buyers when we sold it two years later, but they never moved in. She lives in the garage with a little door my husband had made. She has to live in the garage because I'm allergic to cats and so she has a nice incubator light and a fleece throw to luxuriate on while she's not tormenting the dogs by going out of her way to walk by the back door real slow-like.
So that's my family Lucys on the mantle in a colorful canister that doubles as a stocking holder.
I generally talk about the events that happen in a day in the life and I use my hands a lot to do that, so I guess I'll have to find other forms of emphasis.
So, as I have mentioned I have three sons, in addition to that, there are three dogs, up until February 2005 there were four but our beloved Lucy or Lucy-in-a-can as she's referred to now, died after a fantastic ten years of recovery from former owner's abuses. She had a 22 caliber bullet in her shoulder when the Bouvier rescue league got the call about her somewhere around Toledo Ohio. Apparently she had been a bait dog for fighting dogs as in- a dog to rile them up a bit. Bouviers have a very thick two coat system and they are really good for not dying when being used as bait. So anyway one of the fascinating characteristics of Lucy's abuse was that she relived her shooting everytime there was a thunder storm. She would inadvertently escape the house and go out into the storm so she could really get down to the nitty gritty of her fear.
Jack was three weeks old when we went to look at her, because you really need to add an extremely neurotic abused dog to a household with three kids under 5 years old.
So, we went to this fantastic house and there were five or six massive Bouviers running around and then came Lucy malnourished, somewhat hairless and not a very pretty bouvier rep. I sat down on the floor and that was it for the rescue league. Something like 25 people had come to see her or put in an application to have her be their own bundle of neurosis. But, because I "the crazy lady with three little boys" got on the floor (three weeks after giving birth at home to a ten pounder) to see what she would do to an individual smaller than her, got the prize. Lucy was a prize, she had a deep soulful personality when you got past the I'm going to make you chase me in lightning issue.
So, We are down to three, two Daschunds ( one a mini the other a tweenie) And another Bouvier named Stella from the rescue league again. Griffin, the tweenie was a rescue as well, he likes to bite people he doesn't know just to let them know he was abused, neglected and left with a broken rib to heal wrong. This works because no one comes to our house and if they do we say " cage" and he gives us the look of yeah, I'm a biter I'll go watch from behind the bars.
Oh, and then there's the cat that we were contractually obligated to accept when we bought our last house and tried to play that off on the buyers when we sold it two years later, but they never moved in. She lives in the garage with a little door my husband had made. She has to live in the garage because I'm allergic to cats and so she has a nice incubator light and a fleece throw to luxuriate on while she's not tormenting the dogs by going out of her way to walk by the back door real slow-like.
So that's my family Lucys on the mantle in a colorful canister that doubles as a stocking holder.
posted by Abby O'Neill at 2:50 PM
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