Dog day

This is the new bed we got for Chloe. It's quite nice. It's a water bed that is supposed to help with her hip dysplasia and arthritis. She has not yet lay on it. It's been at the foot of our bed all week, but Chloe continues to ignore it. I am trying to lure her away from sleeping in our bed. She's giant and wakes me up a zillion times a night by launching her big self up on the bed. She then proceeds to sit there and pant, turning our bed into a vibrating bed. I cannot sleep through that.

The cats, however, think her bed is pretty cool. Ivan likes the way it feels when he kneads it with his sharp claws. Any bets on how much longer the bed will stay intact?

The dogs had their swimming day on Friday. We put Jezi in a life jacket, but didn't make her go in. Her tail is much better and she's moving it again, but I didn't want to make her swim if there was still discomfort. She chose not to go in.

Daisy really scared us! She's our little waterbaby, but she seemed really off during swimming. She wasn't edging up and anxious to get into the pool like usual. She didn't smile the whole time she was swimming, as she usually does. She even had her ears back and looked distressed. I was REALLY worried about her. The mystery was resolved a couple hours later when she yakked up an entire plastic toy in a big pile of tiny, chewed up pieces.

She snatched one of the little plastic people that go to L's big dollhouse downstairs. Once that came up, Daisy was her normal spazzy little self. I'd love to know what makes her bypass the piles of her own toys and not just chew, but completely eat an entire plastic person. It's kind of amazing she's still alive with all of the ridiculous things she has done and eaten through the years!

I'm pretty sure that however you spent your Friday night, it was better than sifting through a pile of dog vomit to ascertain exactly what it was she had eaten and to determine if it all came up and was cleared out or if there was enough left inside to cause a blockage.

Sometimes the truth of the situation becomes undeniable: the inmates (animals) are running the asylum. And I'm their bitch. But then I quickly stuff that truth back down and return to my little pretense of being in charge. It's a little less frightening that way.