Two rolls of Scotch tape. . . .

February 22, 2011



I do my best work in the early morning.

So this morning, I was up at 4.30 am so I could finish the grant application for student funding that was due today.

And finish marking the interviews that I so needed to hand back before my students decided mutiny was an acceptable option.

I love the early mornings.

No people, no demands, no phone calls, no emails, all I have to do is take the dogs out, feed them, ensure that Reilley is given his daily portion of coffee cream so his morning screeching is short and sweet, and then the rest of the morning. . .at least until people start trickling out of their bedrooms, is mine.

The peace and quiet.

Ability to think.

Get things done.

I used to be able to work in the evenings.

But now, once 8.00 pm rolls around, I am so ready to start shutting down for the day.

In fact, last night I think I was actually in bed at 7.00pm, and completely asleep by 8.30.

Wild and crazy.

That is so me.






Yesterday also involved our second visit to the vet with Tikka.

Luckily, we were able to leave Frankie at home, with Keith.

Because taking the two of them to the vet, when it is not necessary, is just not my idea of a good time.

The barking, the raising of the hackles, the muzzle . . .

And that's just Stephen.

Frankie is an entirely different story all together.

The vet is no longer completely certain we're experiencing a return of the sarcoptic mange. 

Much to Stephen's relief. . . .sort of.

He was concerned he was going to contract mange as Frankie enjoys the odd lying prostrate all over Daddy's pillows. 

He's started referring to it as THE mange.

His obsession was becoming over the top.

Cleaning.

Wiping.

Spraying.

And nothing was free from the vacuum.

Not even the dogs.

Because vacuuming Tikka and Frankie in the hopes of ridding them, and us, of the purported plague made him feel better.

But, if it isn't sarcoptic mange causing Tikka's red, itchy ears, what the hell is it?







After using Scotch tape as a scientific means to obtain a swab from Tikka's ears. . . who said everything has to be technological. . .the vet looked under the microscope and came back with her verdict.

"I don't know."

Her closest approximation was something akin to a yeast infection.

In Tikka's ears.

All I know is we're back to cajoling her into taking the submarine sandwich size capsules along with the fluorescent pink pills that make her pee every five minutes.

It's to the point that as soon as she hears a pill bottle, vitamin or otherwise, she comes running thinking that soft, chewy pill pockets were coming her way.

Of course, Frankie is always hot on her heels knowing that if Tikka gets a pill pocket, he'll get a pill pocket.

Without the pill, of course.

Em's taking medication, too.

I had to warn her to not take Tikka's accidentally.

Imagine what THAT would be like. 




Title Lyric: Scotch Tape by Lynn Anderson