Fundamental Fridays: Show Me Your Pearly Whites

Alrighty now!  Did you notice it?  Did ya?   A new little face adorns my header.  This little face comes with a name “Q-ball”.  She is now an official member of the pack.  A litter mate of great magnitude.  She is all of 4.5 inches high and should weight between 2 and 4 pounds BUT she is topping the scales at a whopping 8.6 pounds.  She is a bruiser with an attitude that is surly going to lead her into trouble.  Age unknown…somewhere between 6 and 8 years old.

As many of you know, my dad passed away mid October.  I am so grateful I was there for the last few weeks of his life.  My dad had been worrying a lot about his health a few years prior to his death.  More than once, he expressed a need for me to take his dogs if anything happened to him.  I said I would but for him not to worry.  I just knew he could out live them on pure determination only. He asked me to take both of his dogs but I only have Q-Ball.  The other one is in the caring hands of dad’s friend.  The other one, Gomer Pile, had issues at birth which left him with brain damage.  He requires around the clock supervision and that was something that would be hard for me to do since I work.  I know she will care for him as hard as I would have.  My dad told the nurses and me that his chihuahuas understood English completely but he could not understand them cause he did not understand Spanish.  He kept his since of humor until the hour before he died.

So far this is what I know about Q-Ball:

She Snores Loudly. NO REALLY LOUDLY.

She grunts, wait, she snorts with every paw that hits the floor.  This is a good thing at least we know where she is.

She thinks she is the boss OF EVERYTHING and EVERYONE!

She loves the ice cold weather.  I had to drive home with the air-conditioner on and the temp was only 48 degrees outside.

She is so round.  I would be willing to bet she is as big around and she is tall.   I am so very afraid to pick her up most of the time cause I am worried I will pop her like a pimple.  Yes, she is that tight.

This picture makes her look like a mid size dog but in reality she is a tea cup Chihuahua!  Doc says she should be between 2 and 4 pounds ONLY.  Oh my gosh what in the world did my dad feed her?  I know she loves the smell of coffee.

She has a wonkie eye and a little neuro damage in the back legs.  (I hope it is the weight that is causing problems.)

This dog is really strange looking and just a hair on the ugly side (appearance only)

She also comes with her own set of rules, which goes as follows:

1. If I like it, it’s mine.
2. If it’s in my mouth, it’s mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it’s mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it’s mine.
5. If it’s mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
6. If I rip it to pieces and stuffing is everywhere, all the pieces AND the stuffing are mine.
7. If it looks just like mine, it is mine.
8. If I saw it first, it’s mine.
9. If you are playing with something and you put it down, it automatically becomes mine.
10. If it’s broken, it’s yours.
11. If it’s broken, but you are having fun playing with the pieces, it’s mine again.
12. If there is ANY doubt, it’s mine.

And the one thing that really cements her place in our hearts and home is, if you say, “Show me your pearly whites.” she will lift her top lip and bare her little tiny teeth with a smile.  I think she is fundamentally  AWESOME

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Fundamental Fridays: Love you through it <3

Although my dad passed from stomach cancer the true meaning of this song applies.  He was scared but I think we loved him through it.  Open the following site  if you would like to listen while you read I’m going to love you through it.

As I sit across from my dad’s hospital bed, I think back over the years of how strong and bigger than life he has always been to me.  I think of the times he would drop me off at school because I could not wake up on time.  How the one time in my life I reached out for my mom he stepped in and held my hand.  He gave me the courage to accept the reality of it all.  I think how I could not remember one single day in my dad’s life he was sick in bed.  He did have a heart attack very early in life but came out of the hospital fit as a fiddle after surgery. He changed his life style.   He was not even fazed.  He and I were never close when I was growing up.  I was a bit of a handful, more than he or mom could handle; and apparently, that started at age two when I ran away and the police found me about a mile away. I do not remember this, but no one ever let me forget it.

A few years ago my dad found himself helping to take care of Susan, a young woman and a victim of MS.  Her death had a profound affective on my dad.  So much so, it changed his life and a new relationship between us was born.  For eight years we called each other daily.  I felt he was projecting his feelings for Susan but I did not care.  I had my dad in my life.  What I thought was a fad, turned out to be a true and unending love.  Everyday for eight years we talked emailed or face booked.  He wrote a piece on FB that explained why the economy was tanking.  Then called to tell me that politicians were reading his post because he just heard a presidential candidate speech that repeated his post word for word.

My dad was wise, but yet, a bit naive, strong but gentle,  a wise cracker but kind, a man among men, a man with humor, an entertainer, a breakfast cooking fool. A man that raised and loved a son that turned out to be a most wonderful father and husband. He was a loving grandfather that would love so hard he inspired his oldest grandson to greatness as well.  He loved and prayed for a grandson that finally found his way, a granddaughter he thought the world of and praised her artistic talents.  He found hope and happiness in his other grandsons too. He took such pride in their athletic abilities, their intelligence as well as their creativity.   He was a great-grandfather to 4 awesome kids.  But most of all, my dad was a compass, a beacon of light for a little girl lost, that would be me.

In the end, my daddy put forth such an effort to live.  One that would rival any championship boxer, any basketball team even U of M, any sports team on earth.  My dad was one of two known people to survive an acute yeast infection in the blood according to the team of doctors he had. He made his doctors and surgeons cry.   He made his nurses hold on to one another. He made his family cling to one another. He had the love of his life and in the end she let him know how much she loved him.   He wanted to live more than any person I have ever known.  He did not want to leave my brother,  his daughter in law who stayed with him and cared for him just as hard as his own children, his grandsons, his granddaughter, his great grandkids,  his two precious doggies that got him through the day Susan and Gizmo and  his daughter (me).

My daddy, I love you and I thank you for giving me life, for loving me for who I turned out to be warts and all.  I pray we brought you comfort and enough courage to pass on to your next adventure.  We wanted to be with you every minute so you would not die alone.  I pray we loved you through it.

 

Wait at the gate for me daddy for it is you I want to see when I get there.

My daddy started the fundamental me.  My Daddy, my life,  November 16, 1932 to October 13, 2011  Passed from  Colon/Stomach Cancer. .

aMusing Mondays: Touch IT!!!

Update:  The other night, as I was changing shifts with my brother at the hospital, I thought I may never again hear my daddy say, “Happy Birthday, little girl.”, as he has for the past 50 plus, plus years.  But he surprised me yesterday.  He somehow managed to have enough strength to write.  Hap y B   gil.  It made me feel complete and broken hearted as the same time.  He is not able to open his eyes but he is still with us.  He can hear, understand and move his eyebrows.  The doctors say there is very little hope he will leave ICU.

On to the post: We had no rain for around 9 months which lead to the forest closure.  This story took place the first weekend that our forest reopened.

I had been waiting all summer to go hiking and do a little Geo Caching.  Hubs, daughter and I set out on a cache I had been eying for months.   As we rolled up, the GPS said the cache, “Rotten to the Core”, was to the left and straight up. Literally, like at a 110 degree angle. “No Way!” says Hubs. He points out the description said a gentle incline.  He insisted we turn around and go to a forest trail  entrance about a quarter of a mile back.  I thought, ‘This was going to take forever if we do it his way!’ And with that thought, I started complaining.

“This is not right.” I mumbled.

No one heard my skepticism, so… I said it LOUDER! Hubs kept on walking. Daughter had a slight look of doubt on her face but kept on walking too. We walked down a valley with the sound of thunder rolling on the mountain. We had great cloud coverage and a light sprinkle. The only good thing so far was the awesome day we picked for a treasure hunt.    We had walked about a quarter of the way in when it got a little eerie. The further we walked the darker and quieter it became. Bear poop was everywhere and the carcass of a half eaten elk was under a tree. EEEKKK.   Soon the only sound I heard was the sound of our own shoes on the forest floor, oh, and me still whining.


It felt like we walked for miles, until hub says, “I think this is it”. Sure enough, the clue for the cache was “next to a ghostly moss covered tree” and there it was.   Well I’ll be dang!  He was getting pretty good at this game and of course,  he loves it when he is right.   


We all head over to the discovery. Then I hear daughter start to complain of something biting her or maybe a plant poked her.

“Mom!” she says in a panic. ” Touch this plant and see if it pokes you.”

“NO! Are you crazy?” I asked her.

“NO MOM, TOUCH IT, TOUCH IT NOW . I HAVE TO KNOW! JUST TOUCH IT”  So…..I touched it.  

“D@m~ IT, Daughter!” I yelled. She started laughing uncontrollably. I think from relief that a snake had not bitten her or maybe it was the little OMG it hurts dance I was doing.  My hand started swelling up like a puffer fish. It was stinging so bad that I instinctively put it to my mouth to try to cool it down. Within seconds my tongue was on fire! I was scrambling for the first aid kit. Daughter and I had blisters all over our hands and they were getting bigger by the second. We were lost somewhere between sarcastic laughter and the reality of our pain, when I heard husband at the top of the hill asking what the hold up was.  I could not believe he asked that question.  I mean, he was watching the whole thing from above.  I felt a wave of furious envelope me and I preceded to yelled at him that we were stung.  But the words I heard coming out of my face were more like.

“Lee R tung!” My tongue was SWOLLEN! “Whaaa?” 

“Wha ist this tuff???” I beg in a panic to my husband.

“Stinging Nettles.” he says laughing from the top of the hill.

Upon hearing this, I lost all interest in yelling at Hubs, however, I did feel like reaching over and strangling the teen that stood before me, especially after she says, “Good, at least I was not bitten.” in the way that only a teen, who did not want to be there in the first place, could say it .  (again with the strangling)  I could not find anything in a First Aid kit for stings.   I did find a sterile wipe and Neosporin.  Daughter wiped off her hands and applied the medicine. It only helped enough to knock off the intense pain. I, on the other hand, had to wait until it wore off because neosporin is for topical use only. (I could have killed that kid) Before we knew what was happening, I start screaming “EEEEES, EEEES” and swatting like mad. BEES were every where. Not a swarm but enough to make me scream like a little girl. When I opened my eyes they were gone.

“Pobabe goin ta det the hibe!” I tell daughter.  

In my current state of pandemonium, I looked at my daughter and say as cool and as calm as I could, “Zets doe det da tedgger.”  I start up the hill with my hub’s and my backpack pulling a whining teenager by her shirt.  That was an extra 70 lb on a steep incline. Hub notices my discomfort but does nothing other than to tell me to drop the packs.  “NO!” I screeched with all the furiousness returning.  I reminded him the gun was in the pack and if that bear came back for his dinner we could be his dessert. I could just read it  now…”Geo Cachers killed by bear.  Their only protection in a pack AT THE BOTTOM OF THE HILL”  Here’s yer sign!


We finally made it up to the little treasure and put some bubbles and Neosporin back in for the next  victim player. As we start to leave, hubs says take a left. I head left.  Suddenly I was feeling all alone.   I looked up and found myself standing in the clearing all discombobulated, surrounded by bear poop and bones.  I then look behind me.  That is when I find Hubs and Daughter heading in the opposite direction.  With every step, they were laughing their heads off.  I gave one last look at my surroundings and for a brief moment imagined the  ‘EEES gone mad.”  returning.  I ran like crazy all the way back to the car.  EEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKK!

 


I loved every MINUTE of it!!!  What a ‘tan tatic day’ Nettles and all.



Until next time, happy gaming everyone,