Just Beat It Beat It Beat It Beat It No One Wants To Be Defeated - Take 6

Shawn and I fully expected a sad, droopy puppy when we went to pick Stella up last night but instead we were met with a very excited Stella. She came barrelling out of the back room when she heard our voices and covered us in puppy kisses. It was exactly what I needed after a stressful Monday.

Once she got over her initial joy that we hadn't abandoned her forever, Stella calmed down quite a bit. She was lethargic from the drugs and tried to avoid Wolfgang as much as possible. He would try to engage her and she would just slink away instead of trying to eat his face like she normally does.

He was quite flummoxed by it all.

Eventually he gave up and Stella and I enjoyed some puppy cuddles. It was all very nice and sweet until bedtime rolled around and we had to get the drops in Stella's ears.

She was having none of it. We have to put 3 - 4 drops in both ears twice a day for the next week. It is impossible to do. She jerks her head around and I can't see what I'm doing; I just squeeze the bottle and hope that some of the medication is actually getting into her ears. Shawn is 6'3" and weighs over 200 pounds and he cannot hold her down. He can control her legs but then she starts whipping her head around. So he lets go of her legs and tries to hold her head and she starts kicking and scratching. It took fifteen minutes to do this morning and I'm not even 100% sure that any drops went into her ears.

I am begging for suggestions here, people. How do you get drops in your pet's ears?

On top of the drops, Stella has to take two different pills twice a day for the next week. Getting her to take the pills isn't a problem - she's a whore for cheese (she takes after me!) so I just stick the pill in a chunk of cheese and she gobbles it right up. The problem is that both pills need to be taken with food and they need to be taken fifteen minutes apart. This means that I need to feed Stella half of her breakfast; give her a chunk of cheese with a pill in it; wait fifteen minutes; feed her the other half of her breakfast; then give her another chunk of cheese with another pill in it. And then repeat at dinner. So basically I'm putting more energy into planning Stella's meals than I am my own.

However, I am not complaining if it means that my pup is getting better (I will, however, complain about the $300 vet bill we were hit with when we picked her up.)

* * * * *

And just to make this the longest post ever, it's the last day of the month which means ... beets!

I peeled the beets and cut them into wedges. I drizzled them with olive oil and added five cloves of minced garlic and some sea salt. I wrapped them up in foil and put them in a 400 degree oven for 45 minutes. Then I unwrapped them, drizzled them with honey and balsamic vinegar and cooked them for another half hour.

They were ... alright. They didn't suck. The honey and balsamic vinegar really masked the taste of the beet, especially since the beets ended up extremely caramelized (when we were kids, my parents would refuse to admit that they'd burnt something; they'd always say that it was just "golden." These beets? Were golden.)

To reward ourselves for eating our June beets, we devoured a strawberry rhubarb cobbler.

Though You're A Scrawny Pup I Would Be Happy Just To Cheer You Up

Stella does this thing sometimes where she gives her head a bit of a shake and her ears go all flippy floppy. It makes the cutest flapping sound.

Stella's ear flap from Hillary W on Vimeo.

I couldn't sleep last night because every 30 seconds I'd hear her doing it. Flap flap flap, all night long. This morning she was scratching her ear and groaning so off to the vet we went.

Stella really dislikes going to the vet. I walk her there so she's a bit tired (read: doesn't have the energy to be a total asshole) when we arrive but it doesn't matter - as soon as we near the door, her tail tucks between her legs and her ears droop and I can tell she's storing her energy up for one final attempt to bolt. It happens every time we go, without fail. I'll get the door open, she'll move toward the door so the leash has a bit of slack in it, and then quick like a fox she jerks the other way and tries to run for freedom.

It was the same today, which was reassuring. I think the day Stella is okay with going to the vet is the day I know she's really sick. The vet checked her out and discovered a nasty ear infection.

Stella needs to spend the day at the vet. This afternoon she'll be sedated and the vet will clean and treat her ear infection. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. In fact, I'd be lying if I said I didn't immediately call Turtle and start crying as soon as I left the vet's office. Stel has only been sedated once before - when she was spayed - and when we picked her up she was the saddest, droopiest puppy in the world.

So if you could think some positive puppy thoughts for my Stelly Belly today, I'd much appreciate it.

I Remember We Were Walking Up To Strawberry Swing

I love summer. 

I love strawberries.

Stella does too.

I Want To Love You Pretty Young Thing

This week I:

- laughed hysterically while Stella pulled Wolfgang around the kitchen on my housecoat. 

- cried when: Jon & Kate announced their separation (and I'd never even seen one episode before Monday); my awesome mom made me three pots of homemade soup on three separate occasions (2 pots of cream of cauliflower and 1 pot of chicken / spinach, if you're wondering); I had blood taken and the nurse couldn't find my vein; I realized that I accidentally bought light ice cream instead of the good stuff; heard the news about Michael Jackson.

- spent far too much time with the puppies.

- realized that Wolfgang is the most annoying puppy in the world.  

This is why Wolfgang makes me stabby:

Wolfgang tells me where to go from Hillary W on Vimeo.

That's all I've got. I'm still sick. Still bored. Still ... stabby. Happy Friday, lovelies! 

Lights Will Guide You Home And Ignite Your Bones And I Will Try To Fix You

So I'd really like to not be whining about how sick I am still but, uh, I'm still sick. And as such, have not done anything interesting in the last six days. And by "not done anything interesting" I mean "didn't go to the Coldplay concert on Saturday night." The Coldplay concert I'd been looking forward to for months. 

I would really love to be someone who isn't fussed by this sort of thing but I'm not. I'm fussed. I'm disappointed and stroppy and a little sad. And yes, I realize how hard my life is that I had to stay home Saturday night instead of going to a concert. A concert that I was able to pay for with money I made at my job. I know. I know! Me and my first world problems. It's just ... I really love Coldplay. I've never seen them play live before. And Snow Patrol was opening for them. I really love Snow Patrol. And I'm just so tired of feeling crappy. 

Speaking of feeling crappy, after being up all night with pain pretty much everywhere from the neck up, I went to the doctor this morning. Turns out that the antibiotic I was prescribed last week didn't work. Meaning my strep throat is worse and I now have ear infections in both ears and a sinus infection. Um yes, I am a joyful one right now. 

However. This wasn't meant to be a whiny post. I actually wanted to thank everyone who left sweet, thoughtful comments last week. I've been really shite at responding to them so I'm hoping this post will suffice. You all rock. I am continually surprised at the support and kindness that you all throw my way. This is two steps away from becoming a drunken "I love you man" so I'll stop my babble. Just ... thanks. 

You Want Me To Twist It Twist It For You A Little Bit Twisted

It was either this or I talk about strep throat again:

This is my lovely friend making a complete an utter arse of herself to complete her secret mission.



As you can see, she is a million laughs.

Baby, Instant Soup Doesn't Really Grab Me

Hey so remember yesterday when I was all "I have to be at work even though I'm sick. I'm such a trooper. I can tough it out because I'm so strong." Well. That lasted for a few hours. And then it got to the point where I was tearing up every time I swallowed. So I went to the walk-in clinic and was told that I have strep throat (for what feels like the 80th time this year.) And I cried. The poor doctor was so fussed but I couldn't help it. (In my defense, it is a certain time of the month where hearing that one has pus visibly running down one's throat is bound to set one off.) I'm just so frustrated. I feel like I'm always sick. Since getting back from our holiday, Shawn and I have made a huge effort to eat healthier. We've started going to the vegetable market once a week and stocking up on loads of fresh produce. We eat salad at least once a day, usually twice. We've stopped eating at restaurants as much as we used to, we've cut back on the sweet stuff and the salty stuff, we've tried to make healthier versions of the takeout food we love. And yet here I am, back on antibiotics. Clearly I need to eat less leafy stuff and more fried foods. 

So I'm hanging out with the puppies today, hoping that I don't get in too much trouble when I go back to work on Monday. And because apparently I am 7 years old, my mom is coming over to take care of me. My mom rocks. She lives 20 minutes away from me (well, 20 minutes for me, with her driving it's more like half an hour) - 2 bridges away from me - but she's still coming over to make me homemade soup.