My night last night involved some possibly pending really awesome news that I would prefer to share if and when it becomes official, but, for right now, suffice it to say it involved a dog (the news has nothing to do with that per se). A very sweet dog whose cute little head I naturally petted repeatedly.

I then went home where the boyfriend and I interacted. I possibly also ruffled his hair at one point as he was laying (lying? I can never remember) on the couch when I got in.

Shortly thereafter we decided to go out and grab a pizza. As we were waiting for the elevator, he asked about how my post-work appointment went and I casually mentioned the dog.

And he freaked out. FREAKED OUT. As in, went back in the apartment and scrubbed his hands and then accused me of touching a dog and then touching him without washing my hands (I mean, all true, but really no big deal, right?).

I think therapy is in order.

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Our cats are generally not huge fans of cooked meat. Offer them pieces of Thanksgiving turkey, for example, and they turn up their wee little noses. There is an exception, of course, though: C (the black cat) and his all-consuming love of certain pork products.

I discovered this by accident when I was studying for the Bar and had made myself a bowl of cantaloupe with some proscuitto and C would not leave my bowl alone. So I gave him a bite of the said proscuitto, thinking he would not like it, so he would leave me to my snack and my studying in peace. Not so much. I got absorbed in my studying and next thing I knew, C was up on my window seat attacking the proscuitto with a vengeance. The cantaloupe, of course, he left alone (I know, I know – my bowl shouldn’t have been within his reach. Normally he is much better mannered than this).

Which brings us to today. We had the family over on Sunday for a little BBQ and as an appetizer my mom made these ham, dill pickle, and cream cheese roll-ups (take 1 slice ham, spread it with cream cheese, lay the pickle on the ham, roll it up, and cut it into bite-sized pieces. Before you scoff, try them. They are ridiculously addictive). My dad had brought home more pickles, so I was making a few more roll-ups to use up the rest of the ham. I had barely gotten the ham out of the fridge, before C was wrapping himself around my legs, all: “Hello. I love you. And I love ham. GIVE ME HAM.” I gave him a little nibble, which apparently was completely insufficient because he then reached up the cabinet to try and grab the ham from the counter (he is not quite tall enough to achieve this feat however). Of course, when he realized there was no more ham forthcoming, he gave up the lovey-dovey routine immediately. Cats.

0901091741FINE. If you will not give me more ham, I will just eat your nightstand handles. See how you like that.

cosmo studyingThis is my study face. Clearly am studying EXTREMELY hard.

0628091211Clearly C finds Bar.Bri fascinating/is studying hard.

I spent the last 24 hours at my parents’ place on Catawba hanging out and watching the new Bond movie studying. The parents were stopping on the way to have dinner with friends, so I was blessed with the below company for the hour drive home:

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Can’t you tell how happy they are to be in the car? Even though I assured them that there would be no trips to the V-E-T involved, they insisted on sharing with me how absolutely thrilled they were for the whole trip.

Luckily, I, not for nothing, have the ability to make lemonade in a lemons-type situation, and so cranked up the radio for a little sing along time, figuring, why not take advantage of three (captive) backup singers. Sadly, they were not interested in harmonizing, as each wanted to make his/her own voice heard (think of Mariah’s classic “Thank God I Found You” featuring Mariah, Joe, and the boys of 98 degrees, all vying to out-sing each other).

The result:

“Good arms versus bad arms will win hands down..mrow-YOW-hisssss

“Because the hoooook brings you back…mrow-YOW-hiss”

“I know, I know what it feels like to be alone…MROW-YOW-HISS” (that one wasn’t as big of a hit – everyone’s a critic!)

“Damn it feels good to be a gangsta…mrow-YOW-hisss-I will cut you as soon as I figure out how to get out of this *#%$ contraption-sssssss*

*That Snowball, always adding authenticity. Frankly though, if my name were Snowball, I might have a little anger towards the world as well.

…pictures of cute kitties? And an excuse for a post with pictures?

And so I introduce you to my cats: S, C, and L. All are, as you can see, quite adorable. 

SI may look all cute and sweet, but if you wake me up, I will cut you. Don’t believe me? Ask the Vet. Am banned from boarding at the Vet.*

CLook at how looooong I am. Am all muscle. Am practically a panther. 

LI am not boring and do not sleep in photos. I PLAY! Am FUN!

*S is capable of striking fear in even the most seasoned of animal care employees, despite the fact that she weighs like 7 pounds. The last time they all boarded there, the boarding people made my dad go in and retrieve S from her kitty condo at the end of their stay. The Madre thinks S is just terribly misunderstood.

Despite yesterday’s posting (which I had set to autopost because I anticipated being gone all day yesterday – which didn’t end up happening, but I wasn’t really up for posting), there were not a lot of extra positive vibes to be had around the fifi household yesterday. 

Sadly, our beloved dog, B, passed away yesterday afternoon. 

B

B was a great dog. An awesome dog. A top-10 dog (seriously, the Vet put B is her top-10 dogs ever and I don’t think she was just saying that – everyone LOVED B). She had a great (and HUGE) personality and you only had to spend five minutes with her to know how smart (I swear, she could roll her eyes when she thought the Bro or I was being stupid. Let me tell you, she always took my mom’s side) and loving she was. B had her favorite places to sit and if you took one, she would come and sit next to you and stare at you (with the occasional bark thrown in for good measure) until you wised up and got out of HER spot. She was happiest when you were petting her and would often come over and sit in front of you (and bark) until you pet her (okay – she was a bit of a barker, but that’s the breed. She just had a lot to say). 

B came to live with us when I was 14 so she had just turned 12 this past February. Which I know is a long time for a dog and I do know that she had a very happy life up until the end, but it’s still hard. Thursday she was still begging for little treats in the kitchen (we spoiled her a bit – she never really begged per se, but she would sit next to you with these sad eyes, just looking at you until she gave in) and running down the driveway to warn off those wandering little dachshunds from across the street (B was a ferocious watchdog and would totally bark you to death if she thought you were a threat to her family. Until, of course, you pet her and told her how pretty she was).

Quite possibly one of the greatest days of her life was the day C, a cocker spaniel, moved in next door. Shelties are herding dogs by nature and when C came over to play that day, B knew immediately what to do. She herded C home. C came back to play. B took C home. Over and over and over again. We’re pretty sure that, having never actually seen a sheep, B was convinced that C was, in fact, her long-lost sheep. 

B loved to play – her favorite toy in the entire world was Bear, who is still with her now. Up until a few years ago, she still loved to play basketball (she would rush in at the ball and try and knock it away – she was a great defender) and “catch” (we had a soft nerf ball that she loved to headbutt (nosebutt?) back to you). At the same time, she was the Princess. She always enjoyed going to the Vet because she associated them with her monthly “spa” visits (grooming) and LOVED having her picture taken and being told how pretty she was. 

B had had some health problems over the past few years, including arthritis, but she still seemed very happy and full of life, which made Saturday that much harder because it seemed to come out of nowhere. She started acting strange Friday night – picking at her food and ignoring her pre-bedtime treat and then starting throwing up bile in the middle of the night. The Madre called the Vet and they said the soonest we could bring her in was 1:30, which ended up being a good thing because she got to spend the morning doing the things she loved – “helping” my dad in the yard, laying by the pool, and then us just spending time with her. By the time we brought her in from the pool, we knew how bad things were – she wouldn’t walk, wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink and just wanted to lay down. We sat with her and talked with her and remembered all the good things and looked at some pictures with her (if you are not a pet person, you probably won’t get this. The boyfriend doesn’t). When it was time to go, my dad, mom, and I took her to the Vet (unfortunately, the Bro was down at Ohio State for the weekend) and then sat in the car talking to her until they were ready for us inside. When we showed her we had brought Bear, she perked up a little and wagged her tail.

She seemed to perk up even more once we got inside and was standing on the table by herself while the Vet looked at her. The Vet said that she didn’t think this was it for B and that she wanted to run some tests and get and IV in B, but she wasn’t too worried. We have a long and extensive relationship with the Vet (another story for another day, but suffice it to say that my dad jokes that since he probably funded the recent addition to the clinic, it should be named after him) and she knows B very well (top-10 dogs!). So we said goodbye with hugs and kisses to B, but not GOODBYE, and the Vet carried her out. B could smile – it’s a Sheltie/Collie thing – and she smiled and wagged her tail. The Vet told us we should go home because it would be a few hours before they would know anything and that she would call then.

We live about 10 minutes from the Vet so we got home and put B’s bed back together because the Madre had washed it and then, about five minutes later, the phone rang. It was the Vet and she said that B had passed suddenly of what they thought was a heart attack. They were putting the IV in her when she just fell over. We think she wanted it this way and was sparing us a horrible decision. 

They think it was a pancreas infection. Apparently, these infections just hit without warning in older female dogs and there’s not much the Vet can do. It was probably better this way – these infections are horribly painful and dogs can suffer from them for days before passing. 

We are all incredibly sad to have lost B and we miss her very much even though we know she’s in a better place. She was a friend and a very important part of our family. I think it’s hardest for the Madre – in many ways, B was her best friend.  

The Madre and I went out today and found a rock for her (B is being cremated and we will bury her in our woods next to our house). It’s rose quartz so it’s pink and sparkly and above all PRETTY. I think it’s exactly what she would want.