The Worm

I see a lot of disgusting things at work and it takes a lot to gross me out.

This morning, however, I made a particularly gruesome discovery.  I was out walking Libby and she was doing her...ahem...business...

I looked down and what did I see?

WORMS.

Libby has worms.

Tapeworms to be specific.

I will spare you sample images. If you're interested, feel free to google.

It was a total freak-out moment and I have literally been shuddering all day.  Thankfully, tapeworms are relatively benign and easily treated.  They occur after the dog swallows an infected flea so I guess it could happen to any dog.  I'm fairly confident that Libby doesn't have fleas but we did a flea bath just in case.

The vet listened to my description, basically threw the medication across the counter like this was totally routine, and I went on my merry way. 

We are now embarking on a mass genocide.  Tapeworm execution. Worm murder.

Wish us luck. 

Shudder.

Grasping to the Learning Curve

I'm here!

Really, I am.

I'm so sorry I have gone away & I promise to pay closer attention to this blog.  Writing here and getting your feedback is so important to me.  I'm going to catch up on reading your blogs too.  Believe it or not, I have 707 unread blog entries right now from all of you.  I'm sorry I've been so bad!

I've just been really really busy with this thing called INTERN YEAR.  Let me just tell you, it's a lot harder than I thought it would be.  They say the learning curve is steep when you transition from a 4th year medical student to a 1st year resident but I think the curve is not just steep. It's a totally vertical line.  You basically spend your time trying to climb directly straight up on the learning curve while at the same time grasping on with all you have to prevent yourself from falling off completely.  There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel like a complete and utterly incompetent idiot.  There isn't a day that goes by that I don't make mistakes.  There isn't a day that goes by that I don't doubt my ability to do this and ultimately become a proficient doctor.  In short, my confidence is at an all time low.

I wonder when I will stop feeling this way and when I will get to the point when I've climbed over the vertical curve and I am cruising up at the top.  I wonder if I'll ever get there.  They say I will.  They say that everyone feels this way and that it will get better.  It's hard to believe right now but I just have to put some confidence in the system and just keep pushing myself to get better every day.

Emergency Medicine is what I love.  I know it's the right specialty for me and I'm sure I will be happy with my career.  I want to love residency but it's a strong word when you aren't confident in yourself.

I'm happy to have the support of my husband, family, and friends to help get me through this.  I also could not be doing it without this girl:

I get to come home to her wagging nub tail every single day and cuddle with her every night.  No matter how my day was and no matter what happened, she is always there with endless love.

Deployment combined with residency is hard.  Really hard.

It is is made so much better by my battle buddy.

My Lucky Day

Today was my lucky day.  I won a TV!

My husband's family holds a memorial golf tournament every year in honor of his late cousin.  Fifteen years ago, his cousin died in a helicopter accident during a training session with the Marines.  The golf tournament raises money for a scholarship in his name and for various other military charities.

There was a raffle and I won the grand prize - a 32 inch flat screen TV!

Please excuse my photo crasher.

No, I did not buy her dentures. I think that's just her tongue.

Tada!

The Tale of the Toothless Dog

*For the purpose of this blog post, Libby will be referred to by her official name, "Liberty."  From across the world, my husband has informed me that I should be using our dog's complete name on my blog.  He does have a point.*

As soon as Liberty got off the truck from Alabama, I knew something was a little amiss.  Her doggy breath did not smell quite like typical doggy breath.  It was a little more like garbage.  Or a fish tank.  A dirty algae-laden fish tank.

I attributed the stench to the long transport and figured it would pass.  Unfortunately, it did not.  During our first veterinary visit, he immediately zeroed in on her breath.  He opened her mouth, showed us her rotting teeth, and pulled out a dangling one right there in the office.
 
Three days after adopting Ms. Liberty, we were faced with a large vet bill.  She needed her teeth cleaned under anesthesia and any necessary teeth would be extracted.  Sigh. 

I waited until after the hubby had left to take her in for the procedure.  In typical Murphy's Law of Deployment style, the whole thing turned into a much bigger deal. 

Liberty's Final Dental Procedure Count
- 7 pre-existing missing teeth
- 11 x-rays
- 19 teeth extracted, all with abscesses
- Home with pain medication and 2 weeks of antibiotics
- $$$$ = unmentionable

Photos of a Post-Operative Toothless Girl:

One week later, Liberty is back to normal.  Her crusty stick-up hair has been washed and she no longer reeks of surgery.  She has been running around, eating dry food, and giving lots of love, affection, and kisses.

Best of all, her breath no longer smells like algae.

She's My Therapy Dog

Since I have a lot of free time right now, I took a trip to visit my parents.  This involves a lot of time hanging out in the country, watching movies, eating food, and being surrounded by the world's best dogs.  Libby loves going to my parents' house and hanging out with her canine cousins, Chelsea and Medford.  They play outside, go on walks, dig in the garden together, and smother all the homosapiens with an abundance of kisses.

L to R: Medford butt, Libby butt, Chelsea butt

My parents' chocolate lab, Chelsea, is one of a kind.  She is an old lady but she is the sweetest and most gentle dog.  For the past 9 years, she has been a registered pet therapy dog and my mother takes her into a local assisted living facility to visit with the elderly residents.  They all absolutely adore her and look forward to her visits.

Since Libby is, in my opinion, the most wonderful dog to ever walk the face of the earth, my mom and I decided to take her to the assisted living too.  The staff members at the facility are pretty laid-back so they didn't mind that Libby isn't a registered therapy dog.  We got the girls all beautified and ready for their visit:

Chelsea ready to do her job

Miss Libby all dressed up

Instead of a bandana, Medford got a bone and he stayed home.  While he is an incredibly loving and sweet boy, Medford is a little too fearful of all the sounds in the assisted living.

For her first time, Libby did great.  We walked into a large room with approximately 20 residents sitting in a circle.  This was overwhelming for Libby and she seemed a little bit nervous.  Over time, however, she seemed to relax.  She let lots of ladies and gentlemen pet her, she got on a couch with someone, and she sat on one woman's lap.  Of course Chelsea was a professional and went from person to person giving her love and affection. 

Because we live a couple hours from my parents and my life will be getting busier, Libby and I may not have the opportunity to return to the assisted living.  We certainly won't have the time to get her registered as an official pet therapy dog.  That's okay though.  In reality, Libby doesn't need that piece of paper or that dog tag that says she is a therapy dog.  She is the ultimate therapy dog  - she's my battle buddy and she takes the job very seriously.

Libby is my therapy dog. 

A Parting Gift

Do you want to take my Froggy with you?

Snores

3:46 AM

Darkness.

I watch the clock as it changes.

3:47 AM

I lay between them.

My husband to my left and my dog to my right.

The silence is broken by simultaneous snores.

It's like a band - an orchestra.

3:48 AM

I look over at my husband.

He sleeps peacefully.

I run my hands over his back.

"Remember this," I think.

Soon the band will be a solo.

Just me and the dog.

One snore.

At least while I'm awake.

3:49 AM

I close my eyes.

I listen to the music of my family.

I try to imprint it deep into my brain.

This moment.
This sound.
This warmth.
This love.

I smile and I drift off to sleep.

3:50 AM

Three snores.

Liberty

Two short weeks ago, I was standing in a dark parking lot waiting for this:

Photo: http://allpawstransport.com/

I had tracked the truck online as it made the trip from Alabama and was eagerly counting the minutes until its arrival.  I had a harness in my hand and I was unsure if it was even the right size.  After all, I had never seen her in person.  Several other people stood nearby and anxiously discussed their newest family members.   

Will they look like they do in their pictures?  Will they be as loving as we hope?  Will they be scared?  Oh my, will they be cold?!

And then it appeared.  The truck pulled up and the crowd quickly huddled around the side door.  Terrified dogs emerged one by one.  Some were placed directly into their new owner's arms and their worried puppy eyes looked out at the spectators.  Others walked out, sat down, and fearfully refused to move.

I waited toward the back of the crowd; I didn't want so many people staring at me as I met her.    Finally, I handed the woman her paperwork and all of a sudden a flash of hair emerged.  She darted out of the truck faster than I had expected.  She was barking incessantly.  Her body was wiggling a mile a minute.  She didn't even notice that there was a person on the other side of the leash as she started running around in circles.  To my disappointment, she didn't even look at me. She didn't kiss me, she didn't snuggle.  She just flipped out and barked...and barked...and barked.

Woah, what did I get myself into?


I put her into the car, gave her water, and started the long drive home.  The rescue staff had told me that she "rides great in the car," so I hadn't thought much about the trip back.  It turns out that "rides great in the car" really must have meant "isn't afraid of the car."  She tried to climb on the dashboard and side door to look out the window.  She darted from seat to seat.  That apparently wasn't working so she climbed into my lap. She tried to put her feet up on the driver's side dashboard.  I prayed for my life.


Again, what did I get myself into?

I got home, walked her around the block, and struggled as she pulled ahead of me.  When I brought her inside, she sprinted from room to room, sniffed every inch of the apartment, and again, did not really look at me.  It was pretty late at that point and I couldn't help but cringe as she barked and barked.  I figured my downstairs neighbors were going to hate me.  She excitedly ran into the crate that I had set up with toys and bones and she emerged with a stuffed frog in her mouth.  As she ran through the apartment flinging the frog from wall to wall, I decided this was the time for me to sit down and try to get her settled.

I felt uneasy.  I thought perhaps I made a mistake and this dog was going to be too much for me to handle.  I sat on the couch desperately trying to show her how to be calm.  I let her approach me and she finally stared at my eyes.  I told her to sit and she promptly sat.   

I got ready to sleep and she marched right into her crate.

I tossed and turned all night.  She snored for 10 hours.

When we awoke, it was like she had been in my apartment for 10 years.  She was calm.  She was quiet. She was loving.  She was snuggly.  She was AMAZING.

For the past 2 weeks, I have been getting to know Libby.  She has learned her name and she is the sweetest, cutest, calmest, and most well-behaved love-bug ever.  Libby adores everyone and climbs into any lap that is in her path.  She sometimes sleeps upside-down with her feet straight up in the air.  She loves children and she is excited to meet every dog she sees.  Her favorite place is in her crate (I'm serious) or on the back of the couch staring out the window.

So, let me formally introduce you to Libby.
(Apologies for the iphone pictures)

Pre-Haircut:

Post-Haircut:

Welcome to the family, Libby.  We love you!

Happy Valentine's Day

I know, I know...everyone is posting on Valentine's Day but I just can't help it.  Guess what I got as a surprise gift from the Mister?

A kindle!

And now I'm reading one of Cesar Millan's books because....

She's here!

Thanks for all the name suggestions.  We have named her Liberty and we are calling her "Libby" for short.  She's amazing.  More to come on this...

Now I'm off to cook lamb chops for my wonderful husband. Wish me luck!

Happy Valentine's Day!

What's In A Name?

I'm nesting.  Nope, I'm not pregnant.

I'm getting a dog!

I grew up with a constant herd of animals including horses, dogs, and cats.  Some highlights:

• "Ronald Reagan Cat," who was obviously named for his wrinkled appearance.
• "Tuesday" the one-earred cat who happened to wander on to our property on a Tuesday.
• "Mickey" the shelter dog who frequently made guest appearances as Superman at family functions.
• "Twinkle" the burping dumb-as-a-stump sweet Samoyed.
• "Cocoa" the Alf-like pony who was blind in one eye and always looked like he had a saucer stuck sideways in his belly.  
• "Rocky" the horse with the shoe-box head.
• "Medford" the miniature schnauzer who was found on the streets of Somerville, MA.  This is really close to Medford, MA which just seemed like a better name.  He sometimes sleeps upside down with his legs straight in the air and he loves to howl at fire engines.

These are just a few examples of the many, many pets that I have loved along the way.  I believe the total comes to 6 cats, 6 dogs, a lizard, 3 hermit crabs, and at least 8 horses.  Unfortunately, I have been without my own furry friend since I have been out in big girl world.  Life just hasn't felt the same.

The times they are a-changing.

Hubby and I are a family now and getting a pet is the next logical sequence in our life together.  In addition, I felt strongly about getting a dog to keep me company while he is overseas. 

Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce you to our new family member and my new deployment battle buddy:

(photos from petfinder website)

She is a 3-year-old Schnauzer mix, possibly Yorkie or Silky Terrier, who is coming to us from a rescue in Alabama.  She was abandoned at a vet's office and has been patiently living in a foster home.  If all goes well, she will be getting on a dog transport truck and we will have her on Saturday. 

We're doing a foster-to-adopt program which means we are fostering her for two weeks with the intent to adopt.  This just seemed like the safer option since we can't meet her until her arrival day.  In reality, she sounds amazing and it would take a lot for me not to keep her.  It would have to be something intolerable like aggression towards children.  I'm pretty confident she's here to stay and I am so excited for her arrival.

We set up the crate, put out the toys, and organized the dog food.

There's just one more important thing - we need to name her.

Lovely readers, we need your help.  What would you name this cute little girl?