In Which I Find How Much Yarbo Means to Me

I always knew that I loved our dog, but I really thought I had maintained some modicum of detachment that is fitting between (wo)man and beast.

I believe I may have been mistaken.

This past week, after having been gone all day long for very tiring things, we sat down to a supper of food that was primarily a lesson to me in what not to do in the kitchen (oops).  The doorbell rang, and instead of hearing Yarbo thunder down the stairs, ready to defend us to the death by barking repeatedly at the door, I heard a weird "Thump...thump....thuumpp..." and Yarbo finally appeared at the end of the stairs, but instead of going into his usual frenzy, he just cried.

Alarms started going off in my head.

So I called him over to me, and told him to hop up on my lap.  The dog normally has springs for legs, and even when I'm standing, has occasionally jumped so high that he's missed my arms and flown over my shoulders (true story).  So my lap should have been no problem.  Except that he missed terribly the first try, then I couldn't even get him to make a second attempt.  I pulled him up into my lap, but couldn't figure out what had gone wrong, so I tried setting him back down on the floor to watch him move, hind legs first - and his back legs collapsed under him.

At that point I started panicking.

We called our vet, and I took Yarbo to the pet hospital.  It was sad to watch him - he didn't sniff the vents even once during our trip there, and smelling things is his favorite thing to do besides snuggle.

In my mind, something horrible had happened, and I had visions of having to have him put down that night.  And with that in mind, I called my mom in tears, because that's the only thing you can think to do when you think your dog is dying.

Once we got there, the vet took a look at him, and wanted to run a whole set of labs and xrays.  While I was waiting, there was trauma case after trauma case that kept making our wait longer- in one instance, a woman actually tossed her already-dead cat across the desk to the surprised vet tech, asking them to bring her back to life.

Hours later (almost 4, to be precise) the vet was able to discuss the findings with me, and thought Yarbo had probably experienced some kind of back injury that had given him incapacitating pain.  So, Yarbo came back home with us, and we've been following all the care instructions.  He's not supposed to be moving any further than a short trip to the backyard for the necessities for three weeks (so we'll be calling the vet for sedatives....), and he's on some pretty intense pain meds.

The same pain meds, in fact, that I was on while I had cancer.  I'm assuming it's a much smaller dose.

I knew that Yarbo would always have a special place in my heart because of how good he'd been to me while I was sick, but I had no idea the emotional reaction I would have to him being sick.  I had to leave him with the vet to be taken back for xray, and he didn't cry at all.  He just sat there quietly, looking at me with pain-filled eyes, and I felt like I was deserting him.

He had sat there with me for days, weeks, even months through the surgeries, through the chemo, even the radiation.  He always knew where to lay so it wouldn't hurt, and when I would cry from the pain, he would lick my hand and snuggle in close.  And it was so hard to watch him in pain, and not know if I could help him.

We have to go back to our regular vet for followup, but we're pretty hopeful that Yarbo will make a full recovery.  And he better live for another 70 years, because I found out this past week I'm in no way ready to part with him.

Yarbo all hopped up on pain meds

30 Days of Thanksgiving: Day 14

Today I'm thankful for our dog, Yarbo.  He has a lot of energy and can get a little crazy, but he adds so much to our family!  He is incredibly responsive to our emotions.  If I'm sad, he'll come sit next to me quietly.  If I'm happy, he's ready to play.  He is unusually affectionate for a dog, and will often snuggle in my lap and lay his head on my shoulder.

Yarbo's Birthday

What.  Do you not celebrate your pet's birthdays?  Because we do, and it's fun. I'm definitely not one of those people who confuse my dog with my human children, but we do love Yarbo, and it becomes something fun to do as a family.

A couple of weeks old

So yesterday Yarbo turned 4.  And we gave him birthday hugs, reminisced about when he was a puppy, and ended with birthday treats.  We were going to get him (me) new bowls for his birthday, but the pet store didn't have the color we wanted (boo).

We got him Frosty Paws ice cream (no, not making it up, it's peanut butter flavored and he loves it!), and he wagged his tail even more earnestly than usual.  The rest of us settled for Cookies & Cream, though the boys kept asking to try Yarbo's, because they said it smelled better (gross).

The birthday dog was polite enough to wait for one photo with the kids (notice the bowl of Frosty Paws on the floor in front of him) before digging in (pardon the low-quality pic and our dish washer in the background....).

It's a once a year treat, but it's fun.  Actually, it will be 8 times this year, because we could only find a pack of 4 cups, and he can only eat 1/2 a cup at a time or he throws up.  But you get the idea.

Yarbo keeping his belly off the wet grass while we were building our garden this year.

Yarbo definitely drives me nuts sometimes, but we love him like crazy, because he's just that great of a dog.

Yarbo confuses our new raised gardens with his personal play area.

Happy 4th birthday Yarbo!

Happy Birthday, Yarbo!

I can't believe Yarbo turns 3 today!  He still mostly acts like he's two, but maybe 3 will be the year that he grows up.  Even so, he started out as a cute little puppy, and has steadily grown in our hearts.

I can hardly believe how little he used to be!  When we brought him home, I could hold him in one hand.  It's been fun to watch his personality develop.  

He loves to snuggle, and can often be found napping (or just waking up from a nap!)

And a few of my favorites over the past few years:

One of the reasons Dave loves him:  Yarbo's willingness to nap with us through any Bear's game.

Side note:  I always said I wouldn't be one of "those" people who dresses up their dog in little outfits all the time.  I do love this jersey, but in my defense, it was a gift!

And proof that I love him:  As many times as he has shown interest in my coffee, from eating beans dropped on the floor, to just drinking straight out of my mug before I can catch him (gross!), he still gets to live with us.

I think the time when Yarbo really cemented himself into my heart was last year though.  All through the battle with cancer, I was in such pain, and Yarbo would just lay carefully right next to me.  He was so gentle, as if he sensed the pain I was in.  He would nuzzle my hand while I cried, and refused to leave my side after surgeries.  

I know he's "just" a dog, and he definitely drives me nuts sometimes, but I can't imagine life without him.

Happy Birthday Yarbo!

Yarbo's new mug

We usually trim Yarbo, mostly because I am far too cheap frugal to pay someone else to do it.  However, it's always a little bit of a challenge to know what to do with him when he gets super hairy and it's the dead of winter.  I feel bad shaving him, when he's so skinny and all.  I did it once before, and he shivered for about a month straight, which added up to quite the guilt trip, let me tell you.

Today I tried to trim his face, ears, and chest.  It didn't turn out too bad!

Now that his hair is out of his eyes and he can see again, he's feeling quite chipper.  And would you look at those long skinny poodle legs??  I just love them!

Today's Exercises in Self-Control.

Today, it was so nice and sunny out that I took Yarbo out on an impromptu walk.  I LOVE sunny days, especially when they come in January.  Actually, I mostly love sunny days in January, because in the summer, I'm not so fond of them.

At any rate.

I was walking along listening to Chris Rice's Untitled Hymn, which I love,  when I just started thinking about how lovely a day it was.  Suddenly, it felt a little like spring, and I wanted to rush home, open every single window in the house, and start cleaning.  However, I had to exercise self-control, because first and formost, I do not think Dave would be happy to come home to find our house 38 degrees.  What feels warm and balmy outside would still be very cold inside.  Although, I still think having the fresh air inside would be invigorating.

As a side note, Yarbo was having such a good time on our walk, and enjoying the relative warmth, that he kept diving straight into the biggest drifts.  We have a kind of weird dog.

Towards the end of our walk, we encountered a HUGE flock of geese across the road.  They looked like they were having lots of fun, honking, flapping about, and such.

Yarbo really wanted to go over and play with them, and I really wanted to let him, but in the end, exercised self control for the second time in 15 minutes, and kept him close to me.  I thought it would be fun to see him run around with them and make them all crazy, but in hindsight, I think I chose correctly.  It's kind of hard to tell in this picture, but those geese were huge, and I'm pretty sure that Yarbo could have easily become a very lean snack for them.

So, here we are.  Lots of self-control and restraint being exercised today.  Warm sunny days in the dead of winter always make me feel like this.  Lucky for me, I don't have to exercise self-control against tackling the organizing project I had planned for this afternoon.

Organizational goodness

We're working on finishing our basement to make more living space in our house, and we're making headway!  And, we're getting organized (which just warms my heart...).

So far, we've had an egress window installed, the furnace/AC installed, and we've started getting everything out of the basement - which is no small task!  We've been working at selling stuff on Craigslist and Ebay, donating stuff to the Salvation Army, and giving stuff away.  It feels so good to be getting rid of excess stuff, especially when someone else will be able to use it!

Now to the fun part.  We've started working on what we want it to look like (I find that to be much more fun that discussing which direction pipes and wires will be running, imagine that!).  And, as I started collecting samples, I realized we were going to have to find a way to stay organized, because I'm finding that there are a LOT of decisions to be made.

So, the basement project of the morning?  Organizing all the samples and creating a space for all the paperwork, permits, receipts, and everything else that comes with the basement.

Isn't it just lovely....feels better already!  And Yarbo's contribution to the morning?  Well, as you can see, he is blissfully napping in the background.

Now I know why my socks don't have matches.

Overall, Yarbo's a pretty good dog.  In fact, we can leave food out around him, and as long as it's not coffee, it's usually pretty safe.  And he really doesn't chew stuff up around the house anymore, he usually just gets a toy out of his toy bin in the living room.  And, while I haven't figured out how to teach him to put his toys back in the bin when he's done with them, I think we're doing pretty well, overall.

Except for one thing.  Yarbo has an undying love of socks.  Dirty, clean, doesn't matter.  He finds them irresistible.  The other thing we've found about Yarbo is he tends to stash stuff he likes away for later use (like when he would stash my Caribou coffee lids in the piano room behind the bookcase...).

Today, we found a stash of socks he had been keeping behind the door of the guest bathroom upstairs, which is where he stays while I'm teaching.

I couldn't believe he actually had a pile of them there.  At least now I know why I can't find all the matches to my socks!

A week away from a mullet....

I thought that some of you might be sitting here, on this grey Monday afternoon, just wondering to yourself, "I wonder how long Kelli's hair is now?"  Didn't know I was not only a blogger, but also a  mind reader, did you?

Well, I'm here to answer your question.  It's been growing, and getting longer.  And I'm about a week away from having a mullet.

That's right, I said a mullet.

My hair stylist has been on maternity leave, and my appointment with her next week cannot possibly come soon enough.  Turns out that when you are starting to grow your hair completely from scratch, it does not come in evenly.  You don't get to pick a hairstyle and color palette, then push a "grow hair now" button.

So, that leaves me dangerously close to a mullet, and with a few grey strands of hair I'm not particularly thrilled about.

I thought I would take a quick picture on my computer, along with our dog, Yarbo (because he also needs a haircut).  Unfortunately, he wasn't in the mood to pose for pictures, so it didn't end up being that quick:

"Yarbo, you're not centered in the frame.  Move over."

"Yarbo, stop distracting me!"

"Yarbo, please pay attention & look at the camera when it's beeping."

Oh well.  That will have to do, we're tired of taking pictures.

So, there you have it.  Both of us needing a haircut, and both with a couple of extra grey hairs (thankfully, his are more visible than mine).

Top 5 incidents that prove Yarbo is a coffee fiend.

Yarbo -photo from schoneyphoto.com

1. When he was little and only a few pounds, he snatched several errant coffee beans off the floor, and ran around the yard for literally 30 minutes without stopping.

2.  He always stands right next to me when I'm making coffee - which he doesn't even do when meat is involved!  He is always ready and on guard to snatch additional errant beans.

3.  He does not get into our kitchen trash (which has a lid on it), except when I throw away my caribou coffee cups.  He will go to great lengths to sneak the cup out of the trash.  One time he even hid the lid to the cup behind a bookcase.  I didn't realize that until I caught him going back for it later!

4.  Last week I caught him sipping my coffee directly out of my mug!  He got quite a bit before I noticed.  This was frustrating not only because he was really hyper, but also because he ruined my coffee.  Double trouble.

5.  Tonight, Dave brought me home a $2 white mocha from Caribou, and they always put those little chocolate-covered espresso beans on the lid for you.  I love them because if you leave them there for a few minutes, they get all soft and melty.  But I digress.  Tonight, I took one step away from my latte, and the next time I turned around, Yarbo had eaten my bean, and I could swear to you he was smiling as he was licking his chops.

I guess he gets it from me. (not the trash part.  I leave the cups there.  Just the love of coffee.)

Home Study Meeting #2 & a Medicinal Mishap

We had our home study meeting this morning, #2 of 3, so we're 2/3 of the way there (I know, my math skills are awesome).   We had the house pretty well picked up, nice Christmas music playing in the background, had given Yarbo benedryl, since he sometimes gets hyper with new people, and had put him away in his kennel (we weren't sure up front whether he would need to be out with us or not, thus the benedryl, which had been ok'd by our vet).

So, we sat at the table with our social worker, answering lots and lots of intensely personal questions, and all the while Yarbo was howling, whining, squealing, and literally bouncing off the walls upstairs.  Now, I know that I said he sometimes gets hyper, but that's usually when he's with new people, not when he's upstairs.  Since I have piano students coming in and out all the time, he's very used to people being in the house.  He just gets excited when he actually sees them.  So, for the life of us, we couldn't figure out what all the ruckus was about, and it was annoying, but also a little concerning as well.

So, we wrapped up the visit, scheduled our last visit, and after the worker left, went upstairs to get Yarbo, who should have been somewhat sleepy, like he was the last time we gave him benedryl.  He exploded out of the kennel and tore all over the house, running around like crazy, which was a bit.....unexpected.

Rewind a moment to last night, when we were running errands after our class and trying to pick up the benedryl.  We were supposed to get the children's kind, and give him half of one of those.  We looked at 4 places, and the only children's benedryl we could find was liquid, or those little strips of medicine you put on your tongue, and I wasn't sure that we could get Yarbo to take that.  So, at the 4th store, we finally just got regular benedryl, after seeing that the active ingredient was the same and all.

However, after his behavior this morning, we went back and read the rest of the small print on the back label.  It warns: "May cause excitability in small children."  Apparently the children's benedryl must be formulated differently, and not just a smaller dose.

Sigh.

At least all the cups were clean that we used (and yes, I did plan them again.  I couldn't help it.) and everything else went smoothly (except for the part where Dave tried to help the worker spell Saskatchewan by lifting up his outer shirt to show her his t-shirt underneath - that was slightly awkward/funny.  She decided to just leave it as "Canada.").

And, of course, we got to turn in another stack of paperwork.  But the bonus - we didn't get any more new paperwork to fill out from this meeting.  Score!

So, all in all, it went well, and next time, we will be sure to use only the children's benedryl on Yarbo, even if it means using the strips.

Yarbo is great. Pain is not.

Well, the pain has kicked in.  More accurately, it's kicking me.  Repeatedly.  I woke up this afternoon in a foggy haze, and realized that the anesthesia was wearing off.  It mostly hurts a lot if I move any muscle.  Or breathe. :)

Yarbo has been great this afternoon though.  He just somehow knows, and has been so good.  He's glued to me like white on rice and won't leave my side, but he's been so gentle and obedient.  It's been nice to have him snuggle with me during such a long, icky afternoon.  Dave took a picture of us while I was napping:

 Speaking of Dave, he's been pretty great too.  He made me mac n cheese for dinner, and gets my meds for me, and tucks me in for naps.  He's very good at tucking me in.  Back in January, when I was recovering from more major surgeries, and during the bad chemo days, I would sometimes take extra naps just so he would tuck me in again.

All this talk about naps has made me ready for another one.

Dave, can you please tuck me in?