Maggie, the Ancient One

Hello friends. We made it to another Saturday. Last week was a rough week. Our oldest dog, Maggie, has been having some issues. She is seventeen years old, which is pretty old for a dog. The past few nights she has been very restless, whining almost all night. Yesterday, about 3’oclock AM, we had to take her to the emergency vet. She had not slept at all and was behaving like she was in pain. The vet looked her over and gave her a relatively clean bill of health. She did say that it is possible that Maggie has dementia. This really sucks, for her and us.

Right now she is calm and sleeping on the couch next to me. She goes through these episodes a few times a week. Sometimes we will find her standing up and staring off into space. There isn’t really much we can do for her. It’s terrible watching a beloved companion deteriorate in old age.

One of the big side effects of Maggie’s up-all-night episodes is that we don’t get a high quality and sufficient quantity of sleep. If you haven’t read the book by Arianna Huffington, entitled, “The Sleep Revolution: Transforming Your Life, One Night at a Time,” get it and read it! It explains the immense importance of sleep. Low quality and/or not enough sleep can drastically impact our performance in all areas, and potentially sets us up for horrifying diseases like Alzheimer’s.

I’m not really sure how to handle the sleep situation. Maggie sleeps in the same room with us, and I don’t think we can change this. She needs to be close to us. So, I may look into getting her a sleep aid, like doggie melatonin, or something.

On another front, I am down three pounds this week. My eating was better last week, and I was able to get in a couple of runs. I expect to be in the low 230’s by next month’s 5K. As long as I can stay on my plan, there shouldn’t be any problems.

We have a lot to do today. I’ve neglected some of my manly duties, like lawn maintenance and cleaning the exterior of the house. Our place is starting to look like a haunted house, just in time for Halloween. Denice is not pleased.

That’s all for now. Until next time.

The Return of the Beagle

Happy Tuesday, mammals. Day two back to work is in the can. It was busy today. In the very recent past, I would have probably stayed over an hour or so on a day like today, but the man is cracking down on overtime. That is a good and a bad thing. It’s good in the sense that I get off earlier, and as a result, have a healthier and happier life. It is bad in the sense that my department will most likely start falling behind in their work. Surprisingly though we did very well in spite of the shortened (or normal rather) hours. So, all is well.

I picked up Lilly from the vet today. She looked like she had been ridden rough and hung up wet. The vet said that the tumor on her spleen was very large and would have most likely ruptured and killed her if we had not discovered it. I guess it’s a good thing that we took her in for completely unrelated issues when we did. It probably saved her life. She is currently resting on the couch with her pack, one spleen and six teeth fewer. Oh, and her reproductive system has been disabled.

I am still having a hard time getting back on track with my protocol. I fasted all day with no problem, but when I got off I went and got us Wendys. Oh, and no-bake cookies and buckeyes from Food City. Yeah, I need to get my shit together. I am losing ground. I’m going to try to reenergize things tonight by getting in a deep session of the Wim Hof Method, a nice cold shower, and to bed early.

That’s all I’ve got for tonight. See you primates later.

Back to work, and beagle troubles

My first day back at work was pretty uneventful. Getting up at the unholy hour of five was not much fun. The early bird gets the worm I guess. Denice took the car today, so we got to spend a little time together this morning. That’s always fun. On the days that she takes the car she drives and I ride shotgun. The drive is about thirty minutes long. I usually read the news headlines as we drive.

Lilly had her surgery today. She was only supposed to have dental surgery and spaying, but the vet discovered that her spleen was enlarged. It turned out that she had a tumor in her spleen, so they removed the whole thing. Apparently, dogs don’t need a spleen to live. The vet said that she will do just fine without it, so all is good.

One of Denice’s friends from church scored us some Lady Vols tickets. This Sunday we will be watching our girls do battle with Texas A&M. Should be fun.

I’m still absorbing every bit of information and media I can find online related to sociocracy. It is such an elegant system. I would really love to visit a community or organization that actively uses dynamic governance, to see it in action. The only one I have found so far is Earthaven Community in North Carolina. It’s a relatively short drive. I may plan a visit there sometime in the near future.

That should do it for tonight. Sweet dreams, Interwebs.

The Bucket of Horrors

Hi Internet Pals. Today is Wednesday, the hump day, also trash day. I just took it out. They pick it up tomorrow. The worst part of taking out the trash at our place is the poop bag extraction. You see, we have dogs. Dogs are wonderful creatures, so don’t get me wrong. Picking up their stink pickles is a small price to pay for having them in our lives.

We have a system for dealing with the doggie doo. It’s very simple. It’s a five gallon bucket with a plastic bag. We have a roll of poop bags on the leash. When they do their business we pick it up in the little bag, tie it up tight, and drop it in the bucket. The bucket has a lid, which stays firmly in place until it’s time to extract the package. When that lid comes off the most abdominal stench that can be described is released. It’s so bad that I hold my breath while performing this task. It’s even worse in the summer. The contents of the bucket basically cook in the sun all day. The smell is ten fold what it is in the winter, and it’s pretty bad in the winter.

All in all this is a fairly sanitary method of containing their waste. Like Pandora’s box of troubles, as long as the lid stays on the bucket, the horrors stay inside.