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loracsA Fresh Perspective
I was purchasing some infant items today. (Heycassidyrose guess who they're for?) At the check out the clerk remarked on the "cuteness of one of the items and then she looked at me and said, "Is this for your grandchild?" I said no, it's for a friend's baby shower. stonebender had an evil grin on his face.
Of course, none of this is really out of place. The math is simple. If I'd had a child at 19, the soon to appear Baby Fly could be my grandchild. I just feel like I've skipped something. I've never had children, I've never taken on the identity of "mother". I'm use to people, in casual conversation asking if I have children. But now there are people out there who I.D. me as "grandma". I just dyed my hair 2 days ago. I don't think I'm ready for this.
One the Other Hand I Do Identify as Dog Mommy
One of the other items purchased today was a new basketball for Gilly. She loves playing with them. She punctures them as soon as possible and carries them around, ready for a "Keep Away" game with any willing human. She was down atdbubley's house playing with her new ball.
dbubleycalled and said she thought the ball was stuck in Gilly's mouth. "She looks like she wants a drink of water but she won't let go of the ball.", she said. My first thought; Gilly's just teasing and doing whatever she can to keep dbubley playing, I heard the concern in dbubley's voice. "Send her home and I'll take a look."
Gilly didn't need much "sending" once she was told to go home. I heard her come in the dog door and (for her) slowly walk up the steps. She came in the office and sure enough, the ball was in her mouth. "Sit" I said. She is incapable of holding something in her mouth and sitting. She chose not to sit. As soon as I took hold of the basket ball, she started to struggle. Her eyes locked on mine, "fix it" they begged. I could do no less.
I tried to push the ball down from her upper canines. And then I tried pushing up on the ball from her lower canines. Her mouth was open as much as possible. Nothing would budge, the ball had "sealed" around her teeth. I grabbed scissors from my desk drawer and tried to puncture it. They weren't sharper enough. I rushed downstairs to grab my utility knife. This time it was sharp enough and the second I pushed the tip in, air escaped and so did Gilly's teeth.
She immediately laid on the floor, panting a little more than usual, with her tongue hanging out. I went to her water bowl and added some fresh water. Gilly was right on my heels and proceeded to do the dog equivalent of "chugging". Lap lap, slurp slurp, lap lap, water flowing freely out of the side of mouth, lap lap, slurp slurp, REPEAT until satiated and the floor is sufficiently wet to be a safety hazard.
Doggy emergency is over, Gilly is fine, all her doggie parents are fine. She's ready to play with the ball again.
In case you're wondering, Gilly is fixed and will not be making me a doggie grandma.
I was purchasing some infant items today. (Hey
cassidyrose guess who they're for?) At the check out the clerk remarked on the "cuteness of one of the items and then she looked at me and said, "Is this for your grandchild?" I said no, it's for a friend's baby shower. stonebender had an evil grin on his face. Of course, none of this is really out of place. The math is simple. If I'd had a child at 19, the soon to appear Baby Fly could be my grandchild. I just feel like I've skipped something. I've never had children, I've never taken on the identity of "mother". I'm use to people, in casual conversation asking if I have children. But now there are people out there who I.D. me as "grandma". I just dyed my hair 2 days ago. I don't think I'm ready for this.
One the Other Hand I Do Identify as Dog Mommy
One of the other items purchased today was a new basketball for Gilly. She loves playing with them. She punctures them as soon as possible and carries them around, ready for a "Keep Away" game with any willing human. She was down at
dbubley's house playing with her new ball. dbubleycalled and said she thought the ball was stuck in Gilly's mouth. "She looks like she wants a drink of water but she won't let go of the ball.", she said. My first thought; Gilly's just teasing and doing whatever she can to keep dbubley playing, I heard the concern in dbubley's voice. "Send her home and I'll take a look." Gilly didn't need much "sending" once she was told to go home. I heard her come in the dog door and (for her) slowly walk up the steps. She came in the office and sure enough, the ball was in her mouth. "Sit" I said. She is incapable of holding something in her mouth and sitting. She chose not to sit. As soon as I took hold of the basket ball, she started to struggle. Her eyes locked on mine, "fix it" they begged. I could do no less.
I tried to push the ball down from her upper canines. And then I tried pushing up on the ball from her lower canines. Her mouth was open as much as possible. Nothing would budge, the ball had "sealed" around her teeth. I grabbed scissors from my desk drawer and tried to puncture it. They weren't sharper enough. I rushed downstairs to grab my utility knife. This time it was sharp enough and the second I pushed the tip in, air escaped and so did Gilly's teeth.
She immediately laid on the floor, panting a little more than usual, with her tongue hanging out. I went to her water bowl and added some fresh water. Gilly was right on my heels and proceeded to do the dog equivalent of "chugging". Lap lap, slurp slurp, lap lap, water flowing freely out of the side of mouth, lap lap, slurp slurp, REPEAT until satiated and the floor is sufficiently wet to be a safety hazard.
Doggy emergency is over, Gilly is fine, all her doggie parents are fine. She's ready to play with the ball again.
In case you're wondering, Gilly is fixed and will not be making me a doggie grandma.
