Snuggly Review

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Hmmm.

Not sure what to think about the Surgi Snuggly that arrived this morning. We were tres excité about getting something that would help Remy’s paralyzing fear of the cone collar, and after watching the videos and reading the testimonials about the Snuggly, we were sure it was going to work. Well…not so much. At least at the outset.

The garment went on perfectly, and everything is in place. The incision area is covered by two straps that come up and around, and are secured in place by a flap/pocket thingy lined in Velcro. Perfect, snug fit. An initial “positive” is that he does seem less anxious and nervous and fretful. It is supposed to act (and does act) like a “Thundershirt,” or similar garment designed to decrease fear and anxiety in pets. That’s a good thing.

But — Remy can easily move the two undergirth straps out of the way with his nose, and bite at the sutures on his neuter incision. What?! Um. And even when he’s not moving the straps to bite at the stitches, he’s biting at the stitches through the top of the fabric.

I’m sure the sutures itch. I’ve had enough surgeries in my life to know that. And I’ve checked to make sure the soft fabric of the Snuggly is not rubbing against the stitches. At any other time, he doesn’t seem bothered by it at all. In fact, I think he likes wearing it, because it makes him feel…well…snuggly. :-D

At any rate, we’ll keep trying. It’s better than having nothing at all, and certainly a darn sight better than the dreaded cone. The ProCollar we bought as a stop-gap measure didn’t do the trick, either. I think Remy was a borderline size problem, whereby the large was too large, and the medium was too small. Fail.

Next on the list is to get an old pair of the Thriller’s undies and put those on underneath the Snuggly. Maybe it’ll provide some more padding, and another “layer” he’ll have to fight to get through to the sutures. Cripes…

I know that this too shall pass. Hopefully by tomorrow, he’ll be a bit less itchy and twitchy, and he’ll start to forget about the stitches. He goes in next Thursday for the post-op checkup, so we should be good by then.

Happy MLK weekend, fiends. Off to work we go…

Remy Update

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It’ll be two weeks tomorrow since Remington came to live with us, and as rough a start as he’s had with his intense fear issues, he’s come a long way already.

The biggest victory is his gradual-but-certain relaxation around — and increasing devotion to — the Thriller. Since I got out of the house to go back to school last Thursday, there’s been improvement every single day.

  • Before, say, this past Tuesday, Remy would not allow me to exit a room by myself. Where I was, there he was also, yea and verily. When I was at my desk, he was under it. I’d forgotten what it was like to constantly be mindful of pushing back my office chair or stepping wherever I want to step. Gotta look down first. Now, however, he comes and goes from wherever I am without fear. He has absolutely commandeered the floor right in front of the couch — where he can snag my electric blanket. :-)
  • He will now go downstairs and seek out the Thriller by himself. Turns out they’ve spent some time at the park while I’m at rehearsal, and there’s been lots of  bonding that way. Training treats have helped Remy overcome his fear of going downstairs to the office for a visit, also.
  • He is less apt to cower when the Thriller reaches out to pet him. Strangers, however…they don’t get that pass. There’s a lot of work to be done there.
  • A less desirable development is that Remy is becoming more comfortable — and therefore, more selfish — of his house and yard, resulting in his being a lot more barky when he’s outside and sees a jogger or neighbor approaching. Not liking that. More training…

We’re enjoying the fun differences between Remy’s personality as compared to Rousseau’s. Remy is definitely more “puppyish,” whereas Rousseau just wanted to go for a walk, then take naps. He play-bites (never chomps down, though) and runs like a crazy man around the “track” (the dining room to the kitchen to the parlor to the living room, over and over and over). I’ve taught him to army crawl…it’s hilarious. I have to have the Thriller catch it on video.

Today is a sad day, though, as poor Remy goes into the vet for the ol’ snip snip. We’ll have a Conehead on our hands for a couple of days; I hope that doesn’t stifle his progress in other areas.

It’s a process for sure, eh dog lovers? We’re enjoying it all the same.

And now, behold and alas: it’s 5:30 a.m. Time to schlep it to the shower, the Finkmobile and the school house. One rehearsal tonight, and I’m done till Monday. Huzzah!

Happy day, fiends!

¡Vamos!

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YAY

YAY

Wheee! And away we go: this evening marks the first night of my 14th Dinner Theatre rehearsal schedule at SCHS.

Yesterday, I read a random blog post somewhere about an editor (a job I think I would like) who dreaded going in to work. She said that when everyone at the office was saying “TGIF!”, she would mutter to herself, “I can’t believe I have to be back here in a short 48 hours.” One lonely Friday afternoon, she broke down in tears in her car. Long story short, she ended up giving up her editing career — to be come a teacher. Now she feels fulfilled, challenged and appreciated.

Question: Have you ever felt that way? I’m talking about the “I can’t believe I have to be back here in 48 hours” feeling. I rarely have it. The only exception is during my two major rehearsal runs per year, each of which is about 2.5 months long. During this time, my week consists (generally, with some variation) of getting up at 4:30, getting my lunch and dinner together, teaching till 2:30, choreographing, arranging and rehearsing small groups until 6:30, and rehearsing with a larger group until 8:30. Home by 9:15, chat briefly with the Thriller, check mails and Facebook, fall into the bed. Next day, same thing. Weekends are usually a mixture of recovering from the week past, and preparing/re-energizing for the week ahead. I miss my grandsons and spending time with family and friends.

I’ve done this for a couple decades now, so it really does seem like routine. And some days are better (less busy) than others, so that provides some much-needed downtime. (My students are so involved in sports, jobs and other commitments, we can’t rehearse as a full cast every night because of games, matches and teams having to share one gymnasium at a small school, so it’s good to have the smaller nightly rehearsals throughout the week.) Then there are the times when I can escape to have dinner with Kay or Stoney before rehearsals begin. That’s always a welcome break from the routine. But for the most part, when mid-January hits, I say goodbye to going home at quittin’ time, and it’s hard to get used to at first. Some years, it’s hard to get used to, period.

Still, as the Thriller has said on several occasions when I complain: I “can’t not do this.” Yep, the double negative totally works in this instance. The two annual shows are so much a part of my life (and, truthfully, the crux of recruitment for my program), it’s very difficult to imagine not doing them.

So, what is it about your job that you both love and hate? As always, I covet your articulate and compendious reflections. Pensioners, please join in; we’ll take your responses in “memory” form. :P

Have a finktastic week, fiends. I’ll check in with you soon.

Listy McListerman

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I’m checking things off the list, I’m checking things off the list…I’m a list warrior, I’m tellin’ ya.

Actually, I’m not checking them off the list quite fast enough, but I’ve gotten through quite a bit this weekend. Still have to do some editing, score study and DT stuff. It’s progress, regardless.

In other news: I experienced an epiphany this weekend about letting stuff go. It was a good lesson. Have you ever felt that you’d been wronged, hurt or misunderstood, but you fought the temptation to set the record straight because this time, it just wasn’t about you? A victory to be sure, especially for someone like me, who always wants to be certain there is no misunderstanding. My mother used to accuse me of arguing my opinion to the point of exasperation (her exasperation, most often). She was right, and there’s still a lot of that hanging about, but here we are, at the tender age of 54, learning new lessons in self control.

Fist pull, high five, chest bump, go me. Besides, 2014 is the Year of Letting Go of Things. It’s been let go. *bing*

Are you having a good Sunday morning (or afternoon or evening)? I check Facebook and see lots of stuff going on, but I hope a big part of that is relaxing. Relaxing is on my list today, too — it’s set for 7:08 p.m. Yes!

:-D

RNF LIX

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Woo, 59 of these little RNF posts, and a ton more in the basic “Random Neuron Firings” category. Why do I number some, but not others? Quien sabe. I’m mental.

For those who might not know, my RNFs are comprised basically of general, off-the-top-of-my-head observations. You know, kind of like the posts I write every day and fail to assign a number to…

Anyway. Set, go.

Random Neuron Firings

  1. Wow, such anger. What a hothead. Is this guy who you want for the leader of the free world? One poorly-timed joke by a visiting Beijing diplomat, and *kABLam* — there goes China.
  2. Mavis’s surgery went well. I’m glad she’s home, resting. I spoke with her on the phone last night, and she sounds a bit better.
  3. Latest addition to the Dinner Theatre song list: “Me Ol’ Bamboo” from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Remember that movie? Awesome. I would have liked to see the Broadway show, but it didn’t last long.
  4. Speaking of old stuff…remember My Friend Flicka? Sure you do, fellow crusty ones. My grandpa Johnson, whose parents were from Sweden, told me one day as it came on the TV at his house, “You know, flicka means ‘girl’ in Swedish.” I have never forgotten that fact — or that day, back in what — 1965-66, when it was in reruns? Isn’t it funny how seemingly small memories stick with you in a big way?
  5. Remy had a good day with the Thriller while I was at school yesterday. They bonded, played, took a ride in the car to the vet (the doc says he’s 100% healthy, with a beautiful coat and markings, and likely around two years old), and spent some time talking to one another. While Remy stayed pretty close to Mommy for the evening, I was told that he went downstairs to the office earlier in the day, without having to be coaxed down with treats or taken on the leash. Good boy, Remington!
  6. Just found out last night that Boardwalk Empire is in its last season. Whaaa? Mad Men is on the way out, too. Breaking Bad (the best show in the history of TV drama, ever, hands down) is already gone. Sheesh. Watch — next it’ll be Downton Abbey, Ray Donovan, The Newsroom, Homeland, Dracula…all my favorites. Cripes, what’s next? 60 Minutes?
  7. It’s hilarious to watch Remy play with his Skineez toy. He has the reindeer. I wasn’t sure he’d play with it at all, but it’s his favorite. Nasty looking things, but apparently, dogs love them because they resemble rodents. Niiiiiiice.
  8. I hate the first day back to school after a long vacation, and this vacation was extra-long. Yesterday wasn’t too bad, though. I think everyone might have been more “OK” with going back than they let on. Still, I’d be lying if I said I’m not thrilled when quittin’ time rolls around.

And that is all for this morning, my fiends. Hey, it’s Finkday — the weekend’s almost here! I hope I can get some major visiting in over the next 48 hours (Mavis, Kay, the As, then the Js). Then it’s off to the Dinner Theatre rehearsal schedule. Yippy! Here’s hoping that you have some fun plans for the weekend, too.

FO