Those Dreaded Feelings of Dread....

It's the holidays.

Stress comes in packages, traffic jams, baking, cooking, cleaning, long lines, and short tempers.

I am guilty of all those.

Why?

Today, I took Samson in for his grooming. Yesterday at the park, he was just scampering along as though nothing was wrong with him. This made me sit back and wonder....'Hmmmm. I sure hope it's not his back!' And, as the day progressed, he was doing just fine.

Until today.

Yes, today he was his usual self, charging at Simon, growling, running about chasing after Ricky Raccoon his unbelievably destroyed pet animal (oddly, he was probably left outside - we can't seem to find Mr. Raccoon for his portrait), or Timmy Mouse (pictured below with his adoring and loving protector, Samson).

Then, after Daddy (that would be me) came home cranky and poor (from shopping and fighting traffic), he took dear little Samson to the groomers. Samson was aware something was up, so he brought in Simon as his bodyguard...HA! like that would help.

WE arrived, and Samson gave me those pleading eyes of "Save me, you wretched piece of filth!" as he was taken into the salon.

I took Simon home, where Skally and Rusty waited.

Originally, I was going to take the 3 of them out for a walk, but then the rain came pouring down so hard, I decided a bowl of soup and tea was better.

After a couple of hours, I realized it was getting close to 330, and my groomer doesn't work past 4...Samson had been there for 2.5 hours...Hmmmm....why was it taking so long? (you must note, I am the model of patience...HA!)

I phoned. My groomer told me he was screaming in pain, and it was his back. She couldn't do much except bathe him, clip his nails, and possible get his face trimmed...My heart sank.

My heart sank, because 4 years ago this January 16, I lost my little Cubby, the schipperke, to a spine related ailment. It cut to the very core. I couldn't suffer that again. So we chatted about the need for a chiropractor. She told me she would call me back when she was able to do whatever she could.

I went straight online and checked out animal chiropractors in the area. There's a mobile one, that could actually be the answer, at this point. The rates aren't bad, either. It's a question of getting in touch with Dr. Leddy, the vet, and having her refer. That shouldn't be an issue...

Apparently, Samson was screaming his fool head off from pain. This may be the result of so much activity yesterday (he was acting more himself, with the trotting around, chasing, and having a wonderful time at the park - a Samson I hadn't seen for over a week!). I hadn't given him any aspirin, yet, today, so I made sure I gave it to him with his dinner. She couldn't even get him to lift his head (well, I understand this, because he does the same to me when I brush him "every day". This brought more worry and dread into my soul.

When I did pick him up, he looked wonderful. His back stopped arching and he trotted very quickly over to me, and got up on his hind legs and licked my face. He was fine, again, for those moments...as he has been since, so far tonight.

There is the possibility of his growing tense that pushes the muscles to where there is pain. Knowing what bad back pain is (I was on complete bedrest for 2 weeks a few years back, and could barely walk) I empathize with him.

The poor lad.

Skally is still running about. Yesterday, she actually challenged a young male! She's a randy one! And Rusty was subdued - but he's going outside and putzing about so much better, now. He's got the energy and the wherewithall to do it.

So, should I talk about Simon at this point? You want to know?

The other day, I opened my door to a beach pail full of cookies (wrapped). Christmas cookies - you know, the ones with all the icing and sugar, and they are delicious. And a bottle of red wine. Yay! but no card, message, nada, rien. Hmmmm.

Well, I had to go to dinner last night, and I guess I just plain forgot that bucket was on the counter.

When I got home, the bucket was on the floor, along with the pond goldfish food, a bottle of doggie weight loss pills, and tons of plastic wrappings and ribbons. Everywhere. All through the kitchen. All through the den. All through the dining room. All through the living room. Under and over and around the furniture. I was less than underwhelmed.

I had discovered who my "Secret Santa" was, and had to tell her what had happened. She asked if he had become ill. Nope. There were no signs. No sugar high. No indigestion. Only the sounds of his gigantic nose sniffing out the last morsels not yet inhaled through his gaping yaw.

This morning, though, he went out, did his business, then came in for breakfast. After he'd eaten, you could hear him putt-putt'ing around like a little old man...he had really bad gas...but did that slow him down? Hardly.

Remembering that makes me laugh! And Samson curling up next to me does me even more good.

Tomorrow we call the chiropractor.

And, if I don't do it tomorrow or Wednesday, Merry Christmas!