Argephontes
3/01/2002
Let me introduce you to my dog, Puck. Puck is a bassett hound/shepard mix (yes, really) who has had the misfortune of being entirely too appropriately named. As a puppy, he had a thing for plastic. Cameras, remote controls... things of that nature. Luckily he grew out of that one, as Ryan and I are not the sort of people who pick things up. He does still have a weakness for lipstick, but purses are fairly easy to keep out of his reach (and lipstick fairly easy to replace if I forget). He's like a small child, and he is our baby.
He also thinks he's a cat. I've got two cats, Mazikeen (Mazzie) and Lucifer (Luc). Rather than an alpha dog presence to teach Puck about What Dogs Do, he's learned from the alpha kitties. Despite his 50-odd llbs., he thinks it's okay to lay on your chest (or your head, a trick he learned from Mazzie). He loves to lie across the back end of the sofa, and lounge in front of the windows in the sun. And, apparently, he thinks he has Nine Lives.
The first incident that we had with Puck was within 2 weeks of when we first adopted him from the Animal Shelter. The poor thing was so sick, we thought that he had distemper. The emergency phone call to the vet produced a trip to Kroger in the middle of the night for pepto-bismol and pedialyte. The vet said either it would help, or he was gonna die anyway so it wouldn't matter. So we forced pedialyte through a syringe down his throat to keep him hydrated and gave him regular doses of pepto. Obviously, he survived that one. There went Life #1.
Life #2 was lost when he was about 9 months old or so, when we discovered that Puck likes to open cabinets. Particularly the one that houses the food. He ate an entire box of chocolate cupcake Tastykakes. He also ate a little over three quarters of a bar of dark chocolate I had brought back from France. A large bar (think Hershey bars—those wide ones). A brand – 1876, maybe? – that prided itself on using 76% pure cacao in their chocolate bars. We flipped out. He had diarrhea once. Needless to say, we began to tie the doors to the pantry closed when we weren’t home after that.
Time passes, as it tends to do. No life threatening situations for a while (that we know of). We started thinking that maybe Puck grew up a bit. There was a black eye, because he got a little too rowdy with Luc. There were certainly some times when Ryan or I was so mad because of something he did he probably ought to have died. But even that passed. Until two weeks ago.
Now you have to understand, Puck hadn’t gotten into the pantry in a long time. We started forgetting to tie it, and when we realized that it made no difference we sort of quit all together. About two weeks ago, Puck was acting kind of strange. We thought he had a doggy cold, until we found the empty package for baker’s chocolate underneath the bed. I never was entirely sure what chocolate did to dogs, but I knew it was supposed to be bad. Since he’d been fine after the Tastykake incident, I wasn’t too concerned, but I thought it might be a bit different with the baking chocolate since it wasn’t cut with anything. So Ryan looked up the effects of chocolate on dogs on the internet. Basically, it’s like doggy cocaine. It’s a stimulant, but it speeds up the heart rate so much that the little guys can’t handle it, and they could have cardiac arrest. If their heart can take it, they still aren’t pumping oxygen efficiently through the blood stream, and they have problems breathing. So basically, your dog could drop dead from heart failure or suffocate to death. Not a pretty picture. And you know what the absolute most dangerous chocolate you can give to dogs is? Yeah… baker’s chocolate.
Apparently, 6 ounces will kill an approx. 50 pound dog. Puck is about 54-58 pounds. We freaked. Ryan called two different vets. Both said the same thing- it’d been too long to induce vomiting, as his body had already begun to digest it. Watch him. Either he’ll be ok, or he’ll be dead. End of story. His little heart was racing- I have never felt a heart beat faster. His breathing was labored, but not so much that we thought he would pass out from lack of breath. One minute he would be running in circles around the house and jumping all over us, the next he would just plop over and lay there.
Luckily, Ryan found a 2 ounce block of the chocolate still in its wrapper further under the bed. Suddenly, we had hope. Puck was at least four pounds over the average Weight of Death. He would be ok, right? Ryan stayed up with him _all_ night, bless his heart. And in the morning… Puck was fine. His heart was still going a bit, but nowhere near the rate it had been. He was going to be ok.
Of course, we had to go to Memphis that night, and Puck stayed over at Courtney’s house. She has off-white carpet… and there was expulsion of the chocolate. Massive, stinky, wet puddles of it. Everywhere. Which she cleaned up, and had the good grace to laugh about when she told me. This is why she is my best friend.
And that takes care of Life #3. But there’s more. My Mountain Dew drinking, coffee loving, chocolate addict dog has had yet another near death experience within 2 weeks of the last one. Except that I have dinner plans tonight, and have to go. So you’ll just have to wait until later for the next installment of the Biography of Puck. I need to get home, anyway. It's 24 minutes past when I get off work on a Friday afternoon... why am I still here?
Besides, Puck probably needs to be let out, anyway. ¶ 3/01/2002 06:25:00 PM
He also thinks he's a cat. I've got two cats, Mazikeen (Mazzie) and Lucifer (Luc). Rather than an alpha dog presence to teach Puck about What Dogs Do, he's learned from the alpha kitties. Despite his 50-odd llbs., he thinks it's okay to lay on your chest (or your head, a trick he learned from Mazzie). He loves to lie across the back end of the sofa, and lounge in front of the windows in the sun. And, apparently, he thinks he has Nine Lives.
The first incident that we had with Puck was within 2 weeks of when we first adopted him from the Animal Shelter. The poor thing was so sick, we thought that he had distemper. The emergency phone call to the vet produced a trip to Kroger in the middle of the night for pepto-bismol and pedialyte. The vet said either it would help, or he was gonna die anyway so it wouldn't matter. So we forced pedialyte through a syringe down his throat to keep him hydrated and gave him regular doses of pepto. Obviously, he survived that one. There went Life #1.
Life #2 was lost when he was about 9 months old or so, when we discovered that Puck likes to open cabinets. Particularly the one that houses the food. He ate an entire box of chocolate cupcake Tastykakes. He also ate a little over three quarters of a bar of dark chocolate I had brought back from France. A large bar (think Hershey bars—those wide ones). A brand – 1876, maybe? – that prided itself on using 76% pure cacao in their chocolate bars. We flipped out. He had diarrhea once. Needless to say, we began to tie the doors to the pantry closed when we weren’t home after that.
Time passes, as it tends to do. No life threatening situations for a while (that we know of). We started thinking that maybe Puck grew up a bit. There was a black eye, because he got a little too rowdy with Luc. There were certainly some times when Ryan or I was so mad because of something he did he probably ought to have died. But even that passed. Until two weeks ago.
Now you have to understand, Puck hadn’t gotten into the pantry in a long time. We started forgetting to tie it, and when we realized that it made no difference we sort of quit all together. About two weeks ago, Puck was acting kind of strange. We thought he had a doggy cold, until we found the empty package for baker’s chocolate underneath the bed. I never was entirely sure what chocolate did to dogs, but I knew it was supposed to be bad. Since he’d been fine after the Tastykake incident, I wasn’t too concerned, but I thought it might be a bit different with the baking chocolate since it wasn’t cut with anything. So Ryan looked up the effects of chocolate on dogs on the internet. Basically, it’s like doggy cocaine. It’s a stimulant, but it speeds up the heart rate so much that the little guys can’t handle it, and they could have cardiac arrest. If their heart can take it, they still aren’t pumping oxygen efficiently through the blood stream, and they have problems breathing. So basically, your dog could drop dead from heart failure or suffocate to death. Not a pretty picture. And you know what the absolute most dangerous chocolate you can give to dogs is? Yeah… baker’s chocolate.
Apparently, 6 ounces will kill an approx. 50 pound dog. Puck is about 54-58 pounds. We freaked. Ryan called two different vets. Both said the same thing- it’d been too long to induce vomiting, as his body had already begun to digest it. Watch him. Either he’ll be ok, or he’ll be dead. End of story. His little heart was racing- I have never felt a heart beat faster. His breathing was labored, but not so much that we thought he would pass out from lack of breath. One minute he would be running in circles around the house and jumping all over us, the next he would just plop over and lay there.
Luckily, Ryan found a 2 ounce block of the chocolate still in its wrapper further under the bed. Suddenly, we had hope. Puck was at least four pounds over the average Weight of Death. He would be ok, right? Ryan stayed up with him _all_ night, bless his heart. And in the morning… Puck was fine. His heart was still going a bit, but nowhere near the rate it had been. He was going to be ok.
Of course, we had to go to Memphis that night, and Puck stayed over at Courtney’s house. She has off-white carpet… and there was expulsion of the chocolate. Massive, stinky, wet puddles of it. Everywhere. Which she cleaned up, and had the good grace to laugh about when she told me. This is why she is my best friend.
And that takes care of Life #3. But there’s more. My Mountain Dew drinking, coffee loving, chocolate addict dog has had yet another near death experience within 2 weeks of the last one. Except that I have dinner plans tonight, and have to go. So you’ll just have to wait until later for the next installment of the Biography of Puck. I need to get home, anyway. It's 24 minutes past when I get off work on a Friday afternoon... why am I still here?
Besides, Puck probably needs to be let out, anyway. ¶ 3/01/2002 06:25:00 PM
Hee! I have a dentist appointment, now, too. On Monday.
I will have spent more time in doctors' offices in the span of a month than I've done in the past four years. ¶ 3/01/2002 11:32:00 AM
I will have spent more time in doctors' offices in the span of a month than I've done in the past four years. ¶ 3/01/2002 11:32:00 AM
I went to the doctor yesterday. Apparently the cause of the headaches was the fucking clavicle restraint I was wearing. He gave me something called EZOL, and it works wonders. Do you know what it feels like to suddenly have no head pain after having the most excruciating headache ever for 3 weeks straight? It's pure joy.
¶ 3/01/2002 11:21:00 AM
2/28/2002
I think its my wisdom teeth that are making my head hurt so much. Either that or my brain is swelling from the injuries sustained during the car accident, which I would rather not be true (although I could probably get some money out of that). Unfortunately, I have been trying to make a dentist appointment since last Friday. No one will answer the goddamned phone. I would go to a different dentist, but this is the only one in town that takes my crappy insurance.
¶ 2/28/2002 03:52:00 PM
God, my head hurts. I feel like my brain is going through a meat grinder. And every time I cough, the grind setting is turned up just a little bit more.
¶ 2/28/2002 03:36:00 PM
2/27/2002
I took an online test on "Which Dragaera Character Are You?, " based on the fabulous series of novels by the funniest pirate ever, Mr. Steven Brust. Go read him if you haven't already. My #1 match was Kragar. I never thought about it before, but it makes sense. #2 was Loiosh, which pleased me immensely. #3... Sethra Lavode. Word.
By the way, if you don't believe me on the pirate thing, go look at the website. Yeah, that's him. In the hat, with the hair. We played poker and had pancakes with the man in New Orleans. He's awesome. ¶ 2/27/2002 05:24:00 PM
By the way, if you don't believe me on the pirate thing, go look at the website. Yeah, that's him. In the hat, with the hair. We played poker and had pancakes with the man in New Orleans. He's awesome. ¶ 2/27/2002 05:24:00 PM
I really love the Food Network. But every time I am looking for something to watch, "Cooking Live" is on. That show is terrible! They may as well give me my own cooking show as the woman who hosts that one. I always catch the tail end of good shows. Except today-- I caught one where they featured chocolate. Yummy, luscious chocolate. I wonder why I don't just go to the damned culinary institute. I really should just be chef. And then they could give me a show on the food network. And life would be grand.
¶ 2/27/2002 02:28:00 PM
The morons on Rebel Radio this morning were dissing on the skating rink experience. They played "Fight For Your Right," and apparently that reminded him of the horrors of skating round and round in circles. Puh-Lease. The skating rink was awesome! I loved it when I was a kid. And by the way, what the hell skating rink was he going to that played "Fight For Your Right" and "Beat It"? No insult to the Beasties intended, but that's not what they played at any skating rink I went to . The song that takes me back to my skating days? "Push It," by Salt and Pepa. Word.
¶ 2/27/2002 10:21:00 AM
2/26/2002
I feel shame. I'm out sick for two days, and what happens? There are fliers posted all over the bschool that say "NO HASSEL." That is sad.
¶ 2/26/2002 02:17:00 PM
2/25/2002
I think last night was the worst of it (knocking on my desk right now). I have been sick before. I have coughed. I have felt like someone bludgeoned me with a very large stick. I have been restless and hot and cold at the same time. That, I can deal with. You know how when you get sick, you get that nasty sick-taste in your mouth and food tastes different? I can deal with that, too. But this time... I couldn't taste it at all.
I love food. I'm usually quite passionate about it. Not being able to taste it was the most unimaginable torture. I had to force myself to eat. I think if anyone wanted to torture me or to ruin my life, all they would have to do would be to burn out my tastebuds so that I could never enjoy food again. That would be the worst thing ever. ¶ 2/25/2002 01:22:00 PM
I love food. I'm usually quite passionate about it. Not being able to taste it was the most unimaginable torture. I had to force myself to eat. I think if anyone wanted to torture me or to ruin my life, all they would have to do would be to burn out my tastebuds so that I could never enjoy food again. That would be the worst thing ever. ¶ 2/25/2002 01:22:00 PM
2/24/2002
BLAH!
That's about how I feel. I don't know where this is coming from. I don't get sick, yo!!! Mostly its just the sniffling and the coughing, though, and the cough medicine I took last night made me stop coughing, but kept me from sleeping. Bugger that, eh?
Ryan got a car yesterday. It's a Saturn. SL1... Just like mine, only new. And its Electric blue (pretty!). I FEAR the couple jokes now. We did NOT get matching Saturns to be cute, ok world (Courtney) ? We got matching Saturns because we are POOR, and we could afford them. So there.
The Saturn people are really, really weird. They're nice to you in a comfortable, relaxed sort of way instead of being in your face with that I'M-YOUR-BUDDY attitude that most dealers have. And then, when you buy your car... you walk across a little red carpet to the driver's door. They take a picture of you, and put it in a little keepsake card that tells you to enjoy, and commemorates the event if its your first Saturn purchase. And then the entire staff of the store gathers round, and they chant at you. I can't even remember what they said, but it's like having your birthday at a planet hollywood or something. They line up, and they file past so that each one gets to shake your hand. Then they open the big glass doors, and you drive away.
¶ 2/24/2002 11:15:00 AM
That's about how I feel. I don't know where this is coming from. I don't get sick, yo!!! Mostly its just the sniffling and the coughing, though, and the cough medicine I took last night made me stop coughing, but kept me from sleeping. Bugger that, eh?
Ryan got a car yesterday. It's a Saturn. SL1... Just like mine, only new. And its Electric blue (pretty!). I FEAR the couple jokes now. We did NOT get matching Saturns to be cute, ok world (Courtney) ? We got matching Saturns because we are POOR, and we could afford them. So there.
The Saturn people are really, really weird. They're nice to you in a comfortable, relaxed sort of way instead of being in your face with that I'M-YOUR-BUDDY attitude that most dealers have. And then, when you buy your car... you walk across a little red carpet to the driver's door. They take a picture of you, and put it in a little keepsake card that tells you to enjoy, and commemorates the event if its your first Saturn purchase. And then the entire staff of the store gathers round, and they chant at you. I can't even remember what they said, but it's like having your birthday at a planet hollywood or something. They line up, and they file past so that each one gets to shake your hand. Then they open the big glass doors, and you drive away.
¶ 2/24/2002 11:15:00 AM
