JOEY WITH KIZZIE ANDERSON

Today, 14 December 2007, is Kizzie's birthday. She is a whole year old! A cause for celebration! Plans for the day were made so that the evening would be in her honor:

Kizzie

 1. Go to work for a few hours.

 2. Leave early for physical therapy on shoulder problem with rotator cuff impingement.

 3  Pick up new toys for Kizzie and for [CRUSA Foster] Joey for the birthday celebration.

 4. Come home, groom Kizzie so she looks especially good for pictures.

 5. Give toys to the dogs.

 6. Take pictures of the adorable and adoring pups.

Joey

The reality:

 1. Went to work for a few hours longer than planned.

Kizzie

 2. Got to physical therapy late. Listened carefully as therapist agreed with doctor that in order for shoulder to heal, it is absolutely imperative that it be kept "quiet" and that there be no strenuous use of it. Therapist confirmed that my shoulder, along with my neck, lower back, and sleep problems would benefit greatly from a new and adjustable mattress, that it was not just the salesperson's hype. (Yes! I now have validation, not just an excuse to buy a much more expensive mattress than I could otherwise justify to myself. Obviously, my health requires this be done immediately.)

 3. Leave the therapist's office and headed to the mattress store. The sale ends tomorrow, and I don't want to take a chance on losing a great price.

Joey

 4. Arrive at the mattress store, way on the other side of town. Try the mattress again. Try haggling on price to no avail. Add to the cost by buying a mattress cover which is required to maintain the warranty, but which is guaranteed to protect the mattress from everything except a dog chewing it up. Got a specific promise, however, that it does cover a dog scratching and digging.

 5. Begin purchase and begin talking dogs. The salesperson rescues and fosters dogs. In fact, he is a "shelter walker." The transaction took longer than anticipated.

 6. Leave mattress store and head for pet store. There is a thunderstorm. Traffic is stopped.

 7. Finally arrive at pet store. So many toys! How to choose?

Joey

 8. Leave store; finally get home.

 9. While putting things away, put Joey's toy, a squeaky lady bug with long tentacles, down the front of my shirt to get my scent on it (Joey hasn't yet gotten the knack of playing with toys, but he is very attached to me, so I think the scent might help.)

 10. Doorbell rings. It is the UPS delivery person. Why do you suppose he looked at me so strangely? Could it have been the strange bulge and the tentacles sticking out the collar of my shirt?

Joey

 11. Give Kizzie her new lobster squeaky tug-toy. Play with her and try to get her interested enough and distracted enough to give Joey his toy. That works momentarily. Then she charges at him. He cringes and slinks away.

 12. Time to groom Kizzie. She submits fairly graciously as long as the treats in my pocket last. Joey sits on the chair and smirks. Kizzie glowers.

 13. Time now to put on Kizzie's new birthday outfit for the picture. She is not happy. Joey watches, still smirking.

 14. Kizzie is now dressed and I step back to admire her before taking the picture. She promptly charges and viciously attacks the smirking Joey. Those of you who have observed a Cairn attack know how vicious it can be. I do manage to separate them without the loss of too much blood from either Joey or me. Kizzie is the aggressor, with not a mark on her. I close her up in one room while I take Joey to another room to tend his wounds and his spirit. (I think I may have time next Tuesday to get to the doctor to have the finger that I think may be broken x-rayed. They can't do anything until the swelling goes down, anyway. The bruises and scratches will be fine with ice and peroxide. And I'm sure the level of active involvement of my shoulder in trying to get the dogs apart does not exceed that deemed allowable by the doctor and the physical therapist!)

Joey

 15. I get Kizzie to check her out. No signs of any injuries.

 16. The dogs are now fine with one another. I take them outside, Kizzie heads over to the side of the yard to squat. Joey, who normally never alters his very measured pace, charges after her, lifts his leg, and pisses on her! (I love this little boy!) Kizzie looks mildly astonished and walks away.

 17. We come back in and Joey, passive, placid Joey, heads straight for Kizzie's new lobster and tears it to shreds, as Kizzie just sort of sniffs about him in bewilderment. (I love this little boy!)

Larry Lobster

 18. I open a bottle of wine and pour a large glass full before getting the camera to take the birthday shots. In a stunning moment of wisdom, I decide to forego the birthday costume for Kizzie.

 19. I take pictures of these darling, angelic, adorable dogs, as well as poor, dissected Larry the Lobster.

 20. I sit down with my (refilled) glass of wine and type this epistle.

Sure could use that fancy new bed right now . . . .

Kizzie & Joey