June 21, 2013
Well, that’s easy.
our impromptu small investment in a spanking new 24-hour emergency vet clinic Jasmine’s unfortunate intake of 70 (yes SEVENTY) 200 mg ibuprofen tablets last week and her subsequent three-night stay at the animal hospital, we now keep dibs on her pretty much all of the time. Oh, not familiar with what happened? In short, I found her lying on our bedroom floor, tail wagging, munching on the pills like candy. Yum! So much better than paper towels.
Not to worry, she’s just fine. Thankfully.
But, we have a new habit: Keeping up with Jasmine. Now, the sounds of “Where’s Jasmine?” ring out from downstairs to up. “Is she with you?” “Come Jasmine!” “Jas-mine, where are you?”
Yes, just like when Christian learned to walk and cared to do nothing but explore everywhere, oh that seems-like-it-will-never-end phase when parents eat in shifts, we now require Jasmine to be within view at all times.
So, when you wonder something like When are we ever going to take down that child gate on the stairs? you never know why you didn’t until you need it. Oh, and those childproof lids? They are not Jasmine-proof.
Two wood storks made an appearance on the pond this week. Pretty neat since they are classified as an endangered species in the U.S.
Every once in a while, a solo wood stork shows up. But Ken was quite impressed when he discovered this couple sunning themselves. Well, rather, Jasmine and Kona…well, really Jasmine…
announced their arrival.
Of course, Ken longed to take a closer look and get the perfect photo. But, better to leave such creatures in peace and enjoy their mere presence as they did not stay for long.
Oh, the girls? They were rewarded for their discovery with lounging on the sofa for the remainder of the afternoon.
5:30 a.m. Eastern Standard Time. Today. I dragged myself out of bed and took the girls for a long overdue early morning walk.
Yes, getting up at the crack of dawn is one of my favorite things. But today was hard. After weeks of Christmas, flu, New Years, sinusitis, and the boys’ birthdays, it was time.
And, it was all for naught. After five days on Pacific Standard Time (another favorite thing, by the way) and one red eye flight, I will face this hurdle all too soon again.
(a post from Jasmine)
Hi. Jasmine here.
I thought I’d pick up where Carol left off since she’s been quite the slacker the past few days…well, really, the past week or so. You humans and your habits. Hard to break bad ones, hard to keep good ones. Us dogs? Not an issue. For us, there’s no right or wrong. Instead, its a cinch. You guys tell us what’s right and what’s wrong. And, we get treats when we get it right! We understand you. Well, we understand what we want to hear. It’s not all this, like you think.
Now, about Kona…that little b—-h and her fancy bowl. Enough already. She gets her own special dining room, too. And then she has the gall to growl at me from within her abode when she’s done eating. B—-h. And a whole post about it? Really?
She’d better be glad she’s here because it was gonna be just me. I picked out the boy first. And then Ken picked out Kona. And then Carol decided she would come home with us.
That’s okay. Because I’m the top dog, the Getter of All Things. Need a dish towel? Got it. Looking for a shoe? No problem. A sock? Absolutely. I even clean up after Kona when she’s decided to bring dinner back up for a second round (I’ll keep it at that since you humans don’t appreciate canine gourmet).
Anyway, just wanted to chime in about me. What you see is what you get. No shame. Now, if I could just get my humans to let me sleep in the bed with them. And, I don’t understand this waiting-until-it’s-light-to-get-up-and-eat-breakfast thing.
As I passed through the living room on Saturday, I noticed Kona snuggled on the sofa with her bowl. Well, her substitute bowl. Recently, she broke her beloved ceramic one as she toted it from the powder room to the sofa. Dropped mid-prance as she just had to see what her sister was up to. That’s right, I said the powder room. Kona eats in “private” since her little yet larger sister Jasmine thinks any food in any bowl is hers to eat.
It seems since Kona’s beloved blue bowl cracked and went the way of the trash can, she has become even more possessive of its simple makeshift replacement. I teased that perhaps we need to take her shopping to Petco to pick out a new one. Just Queen Kona and her humans.
Poor Kona generally puts up with her strong, confident, alpha sibling pretty well. But, gradually, she’s figured out the food thing. The BOWL thing. And, she no longer tolerates being bullied. So, this weekend, she stood her ground. Follow the play-by-play here:
A year (or seven) in two dogs’ lives: A few photos of Kona and Jasmine over the past year. 132 pounds of love.
When I am tending to Kona and Jasmine, encouraging them to “get busy” or tending to my chores as they attempt to remain calm, I often begin humming this song.
As the holidays approach, I always look forward to watching this movie again and again.
If he is close by, Ken joins in. Then we begin to sign in unison, the two whole words that we have memorized. I imagine that if the dogs were more like us monkeys, Kona would enjoy jazz, like Miles Davis, and Jasmine would belt out show tunes a la Ethel Merman.
There, now it’s in your head…hum away.
No, not those funnels. Rather the type that invaded our house last Tuesday. Hard, plastic, evil funnels attached to cute, cuddly puppies. Better known as Elizabethan collars, they are really torture devices for both master and pet; they bruise legs, mark up walls, and have turned both the dogs and monkeys into intolerant, impatient, crabby, crazy creatures. When in her kennel, Jasmine now barks incessantly, her high pitched, “I need attention and now” bark. Unless, she is tired or asleep. Sweet, lovable, “all I want to be is a good dog” Kona has converted into an instigator. The problem? They are prohibited from the rough and tumble play that only canine siblings can appreciate.
People suggested alternatives. They mean well, but anything less would be toast and rendered useless as we attempted to stop a frustrated dog from ripping open a suture. Consider that within the first twenty-four hours, we had reinforced the evil funnels with generous amounts of duct tape.
So we walk to manage the chaos. Walking is both good mental and physical exercise. My parents walk for hours at a time. They have walked all over the world for more than fifty years. I have meant to ask what their most interesting walk has been. Christian tugs the girls along on separate jaunts around our neighborhood each morning. Our evening routine once again involves a walk. We reconnect, which is important. It makes us better parents. Even time away from the pups includes walking; our tour of national parks and monuments this summer will involve hiking.
Kona and Jasmine are now genetic cul-de-sacs. Ken says one day they will thank us for this. But not anytime in the immediate future.