Happy Birthday Quinn!
Can you believe that our sweet little Quinnie, fondly known as Mr. Baby or The Baby, is actually six years old today? It seems like just yesterday he was an anxious mess. Oh wait--he is still an anxious mess. But now he is an anxious mess with a white chin.

No, really, we are so proud of how brave little Quinnie has become over the years and with the help of clomipramine. We have all worked hard on his training, and he has turned into a mature pug. And, after all, we do call him MISTER Baby now.

Sir Nigel's birthday is November 27, so this is the beginning of the Puggie Birthday Season, a major holiday in Squirrel House and parts of New Zealand. (I just made up that last part. Quinnie made me do it.)

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The Pug Man Cometh
Nigie here! Sorry I haven't posted in so long, but Mommy hasn't felt well and it's a pug's job to take care of her. She's feeling a little better now, but you can't even imagine her plans. She actually wants to TRAIN Quinnie and I! OK to train a stupid guy like my little brother Quinnie, I say. But MOI, alien space-traveler chihuapug, REALLY?

Anyway, I have decided to humor her and make it seem like I am following her so-called commands--though actually I will be in charge as always. This year has sucked for her, so I am willing to put away my pride. The problem seems to be the command. Since Quinnie and I are full-grown puggies who don't know basic commands, the first one she proposes to teach us is a bad joke. We don't go to her when she says "come" or "here," so she can just shout those words forever and they won't mean anything to us. In fact, as far as we can tell, the only time she says them is when there is a problem; and then she says them louder and louder. It is the only time she ever even borderline yells at us, so it is scary. The last few times she said them was when she broke a glass in the kitchen and I was investigating with my paws, when our neighbor The Mean Man was screaming at us over the fence, and when we were having a good time eating a rotten carcass in the back yard. So we think that those words probably mean, "The poo is hitting the fan." So we really, really, don't want to hear them, let alone act on them except to run further away.

Can you help us out with a new command to use instead? We want something that we can use playfully and learn that it is fun to run to Mommy when she says it. She was thinking of "report," but our Auntie Eldersib pointed out that it sounds like something Christopher Plummer would say in the Sound of Music.

So, please go for it, you creative souls. Can you think of something without confusing baggage, but also without the militaristic ring? (OK, maybe a little militaristic if I get to be a four-star general and Quinnie is a private.) After all, remember that I will just be humoring Mommy and will still rule the roost. As far as that dim suck up Quinn, well...try to keep it short and punchy for his pathetic little brain. I love him so much, but he's not the brightest bulb on the tree.

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No thanks, I'll just stick with fries today
I haven't written in LJ for ages partly because for a ridiculously long time I didn't get Internet connected in my new home, and partly because I have been dealing with many health issues. Yesterday, Eldersib went with me to the dermatology clinic to have an inflamed nodule above my elbow biopsied. Unfortunately it seems that the mycobacterium infection I had treated for months with IV antibiotics is not being contained as we hoped with the oral azithromycin. This time the biopsy will be sent to National Jewish hospital, which is the center of atypical mycobacterium research, and they told my infectious disease doctor that they do different sensitivity testing than Mayo, to which my last piece of flesh was sent. So the hope is that we can come up with a different oral antibiotic. I am now repressing the whole thing for the few weeks it will take to see whether the situation is as grim as I fear. The infectious disease doctor, who is--I kid you not--Dr. Riddell like the evil guy in Harry Potter, did reassure Eldersib that I won't die from this though it will likely plague me for the rest of my life as if I were a leperous armadillo.

At any rate, after we went into the exam room, the medical assistant did my vitals and then asked a series of questions, a bit unexpected since I was only there for the biopsy. After asking, "Do you have dermatitis? Do you have eczema? Do you have psoriasis?" she then asked, "Any cancer for you?" She didn't specify which kind of cancer I was being offered, but I still didn't take her up on it.

A better offer was for a free whole body skin check, which I turned down because I was too tired to get naked and because I desperately needed a shower. I did ask the young gorgeous resident to look at a brown spot on my forehead, which I suspected to be an old age spot. Is is, and now I feel older. But at least I didn't go for the cancer.

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Moving day is neigh
Mommy has been taking her own sweet time moving stuff over to our new home, Squirrel House. She was right that it is a house where we dogs can look outside and see squirrel and stuff. It is a really cool place, and she better get us the hell over there now because she promised us a couple hours ago and then sat down at the computer. We dogs just hate, hate, hate the computer (except when I'm using it for LJ.)

She says the plan for Friday is that we get up (or stay up) for the royal wedding coverage, which we are going over to Eldersib's house to see. Then we proceed to Squirrel House with medications, pillows, and--most importantly to the little dude--The Man Cave. That's what we call his crate because a crate sounds like, well, a crate. That bothers me and I give Mommy the stink eye when she uses words like that. I like The Man Cave because Quinn is a sloppy eater and there is usually good crap on the bottom (though I think Mommy plans to clean it for the move.) Then Friday night we will sleep over at SH for the first time and then be based there.

Also, Mommy went her orthotist today and had some good adjustments made on both braces. The better to cater to us and get to The Man Cave sooner so the little dude will shut up. I am afraid that any time food is imminent, Quinnie thinks that men in Amish hats and beards like in the puppy mill will come and steal it from him. I say, "Hey, Dude, Mommy always feeds us. Might be late sometimes, but we always get the dog food. That's why it's called dog food." But he just doesn't get it. I think it's because he is so stupid, but around Mommy I act like it's his anxiety disorder.

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What's he know that we don't?
Quinn the pug has decided that Wynona Judd resides permanently in the Uncanny Valley.

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Good Joke
I heard this joke on Science Friday today:

Q: What was the biggest biology experiment ever performed?

A: Gregor Mendel crossed the Rocky Mountains with his wife.

I thnk this is also an example of a grammatical ambiguity the name of which I learned here on LJ but have no forgotten. (Give me a break: I'm an alien crossed with a pug.)

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Pink Gardening
I forgot to say that the woman who is doing my gardening lists herself under the company name of Pink Gardening. She says she came up with the idea for the name because she thought it would target single older women. Hope she doesn't leave my weedy yard for Madison Ave.

Current Mood: amused

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The Great Digging Out
After way too long, I am finally mobilizing. Last week Eldersib helped swamp out cluter and we had an entire truck hauled away to trash, recycling, and charity.

And a big shout out to Craigslist, and to Nellorat for turning me on to it. I can't say I found a job like she did, but I've found the next best thing. Even though I am a conscientious person, I have a couple big blots on my work record due to irrational decisions made under stress and drugs (prednisone.) Also, it's been awhile, since I thought I wanted to go back to school and did that for, also, way too long.

So a volunteer position seems the best way to go to get a good reference and demonstrate skills. I found one on Craigslist. It is a brand-new start-up non-profit that spreads appropriate technologies to provide basic human needs for people in developing countries. So far it is mostly Central America, and I am waiting for the guy I interviewed with to get back from Guatemala where he is designing a water system in a village and initiating a five-year project of teaching them how to make a water pump that looks a whole lot like a stair-stepping exercise machine. With his two main workers leaving for other projects and grad school, it is just him and a board of techies. Until he gets more volunteers, I am it. The exciting thing is that he advertised for a "creative person" to do office support work and grant writing. I will start with the latter, going through a database to identify possible sources of funding. He has offered to send me to workshops, etc. to learn grant writing, which is also exciting.

So meanwhile I am living in a neglected house filled with crap, but I am making progress. I have ordered a new garage door and opener (mine is dead) from a company with the wonderful name of Up and Down. They carry a line of doors that has a design I really like, and the cost is quite reasonable. Of course, I found them on Craigslist. I also found a true gem of a gardener, a woman I found--you're getting the idea--on Craigslist. She is very smart, sweet, reasonable and knowledgeable and skilled with gardening. My yard has had nothing but mowing all summer and looks like the Addams family would be embarrassed to have, with tons and tons of thistles. So far she has put in about seven hours and the change is amazing. She also came up on her own with a plan to do what's most noticeable first! So at least my neighbors know by now that I'm on to it.

So, it doesn't help to regret a summer lost to sleep disorders due to prednisone and tapering thereof. The good thing is that The Great Digging Out has begun.

Also, I never started an exercise program, so I am excited to have an appointment in mid-September with the Mobility Enhancement Clinic. It includes a whole-picture workup by a physician who is interested in this area (he is the Clinic staff) and then long-term working with a PT to develop an exercise program for endurance,strength and balance. The funny part is that when my primary care doctor referred me to him (he's not on Craigslist yet), she had to email him to ask for an exception for me--because the Clinic is in the Geriatric Clinic, and I am nine years too young! Going to the Geriatric Clinic does seem, well, as if I am getting older; but if he and his PT can help me get around faster and worry less about falls, then I don't care. Plus, I'll seem so young there. LOL

Well, I am off to continue the decluttering. Luckily I chose a door that has to be special ordered and takes two weeks, since I have to have the garage swamped out by then.

Nigel says puggish kisses to all, and will I get off the computer so he can see if he won the blow-up spaniel on Ebay.

Current Mood: hopeful

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Mommy is fighting off a migraine from excitement. She and Eldersib went to a car dealership and bought a Chrysler Town and Country minivan in under half-an-hour. It wasn't quite as fast as it seemed, though almost. She has been very unhappy with the wheelchair lift in our current van: the adaptive driving place she went to told her to go ahead with the Toyota minivan, and then it turned out that they installed a lift that was more like a crane and with hardly any wiggle room. It turns out that Toyota isn't as generous with back gate room as Chrysler. The result was that the pain of using the wheelchair is more than the pain of walking around on a knee that should be using the wheelchair more and more, while driven scientists are learning how to grow cartilage, we hope.

Now she is working with a different place and a very helpful guy who said he can put an appropriate platform lift for her power chair in the Town and Country, which is "the gold standard for van lifts and conversions." It has a nice big American ass. She spoke with a saleswoman at the local Chrysler dealer and found out that there was one with all the features needed for the lift operation and general handicap friendliness in an adjoining state--and in a hard to get but most-desired-by-Mommy color: Melbourne Green. Mommy put down a deposit so they can go get it, and can take delivery next Tuesday. It's one more bad sign for the economy, but great for us, that they are selling all vehicles at employee prices with an additional $1000 rebate. So while our automakers are struggling, they are losing money on each car just to move inventory. The saleswoman said they make all their money on service and used cars. And lucky for us that the service department seems very good and is very close to home, because Mommy swears this is the car that she is going to maintain as if she had a penis. OK, that's sexist. Saying like an old geezer is ageist, so let's just say that she intends to follow a maintenance schedule--complete with full documentation--that would be worthy of me, fretful Nigel, if I could drive a car.

In order to get some features that are important--like rain-sensing wipers which will take away the turmoil of adjusting wipers while driving with hand controls--we get lots that are just pampering. Both front and back seats (second-row seats, but we lose the third row to the wheelchair lift) are heated. Now, I am thrilled, because this pug just loves heated seats. And now I know I can shove Quinn and his bad elbow in back and not feel guilty about the frozen seats.

When Mommy and Nellorat were learning to drive, they had a Chevy Nova that was avocado green and called, so creatively, The Avocado. Now we aren't exactly sure what shade this green will be, since pictures on the web differ and we haven't seen one in person. Mommy thought of calling this one Guacamole as an homage to The Avocado, but Eldersib and Mommy agreed that the smashed aspect is not one to be associated with a car. Mommy is thinking of Romaine, which would follow the vegetable theme and sound vaguely European and sexy. Mommy's pretty sure it's a female car, though, and she was right about my being gay before she adopted me. So we'll wait and see what the color inspires in us. Of course, Math Guy always has plenty of names of British soccer players; but those might be specifically for computers. The Broccoli? Ms. Kale? The Alligator Pear would be the best, but might be too long. Allie? Lady Pear?

Well, after months of no news, here's a very long and boring entry. But we are pretty excited that Mommy can just drive her wheelchair onto a platform and have it sucked in the back with the push of a button. Then she can use it very often for shopping and such to save Knee Power for better things, like playing Pug-o-War.

Thanks in advance for any name suggestions for our new arrival. Extra points for echoes of The Avocado! What a great little car th...sigh.

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Crawling out of my hole
That was an easy way to get over the barrier of posting after not doing so for so long. I, Nigel, my little brother Quinn, my sister Chloe, and Mommy are hanging in there. More news on my exciting life soon!

Oh, Mommy is the Empress. I don't need to take a silly test to find out that I am the King of the Universe, Chloe is the old crone Matriarch, and Quinn is the Jester.

Current Mood: relieved

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You are The Empress

Beauty, happiness, pleasure, success, luxury, dissipation.

The Empress is associated with Venus, the feminine planet, so it represents,
beauty, charm, pleasure, luxury, and delight. You may be good at home
decorating, art or anything to do with making things beautiful.

The Empress is a creator, be it creation of life, of romance, of art or business. While the Magician is the primal spark, the idea made real, and the High Priestess is the one who gives the idea a form, the Empress is the womb where it gestates and grows till it is ready to be born. This is why her symbol is Venus, goddess of beautiful things as well as love. Even so, the Empress is more Demeter, goddess of abundance, then sensual Venus. She is the giver of Earthly gifts, yet at the same time, she can, in anger withhold, as Demeter did when her daughter, Persephone, was kidnapped. In fury and grief, she kept the Earth barren till her child was returned to her.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

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Acting like a pug
Quinn is continuing to do better on this lazy day. We have been sleeping and eating. He is getting more and more sparkle in his eyes. A perfect puggie day.

Current Mood: content

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Quinn gets better
Man, that little puglet sure can eat! Mommy is feeding him six times a day, and he gobbles each mini-meal. So far no regurgitation at all, so I guess we're doing something right. He seems much more lively than yesterday.

We napped all afternoon in Mommy's lap. Then she put Quinn in his crate and went into the den at the computer. She heard a joyous canine play session and didn't want to look and interrupt us...until we came into the den. It was us three boys: me, Rocky, and Quinn who had been liberated from his crate! We had a great time, and all of our eyes were shining. Mommy said that any harm to his leg was outweighed by it being good for his soul. But she still busted us.

Still, it was a foreshadowing of the time when Quinn and I can romp around and be best puggie buds.

Current Mood: optimistic

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Our puglet sure can eat!
Quinn came home last night--and what a greeting! He and I kissed each other all over, and our eyes started to sparkle. He is peppy today and getting around so much better with his smaller bandage on his leg that Mommy has had quite the time restraining him when he feels like playing. But mostly he wanted to sleep on her lap, because as in a human hospital there was no sleep for the patients. I jumped up on Mommy's lap, too.

But he is so very, very skinny. Now that the cast that went over his midsection has been replaced by one just on his leg, you can really see the toll the esophagus problems have taken. As Nephew put it, "he's thin as f---." Whatever that means, it sure sums it up.

Mommy started giving him a good tasting puppy food, five small meals a day instead of the two they were feeding him in the hospital. He just digs into them with such hunger that eating that fast alone could make one regurgitate--but so far all the food has stayed down!!! He was so hungry this morning that he shoved his whole little flat face in the food and Mommy ended up washing out his eye with artificial tears because he splattered food in it.

Mommy read a lot about how motility disorders are treated with diet in humans and is applying it to our little puglet. So far so good with the regime. I told her that if she can't fatten up a PUG, then I'm not a food-loving puggie dog.

Mommy also read an article that studied young dogs like Quinn, and within six months they outgrew their motility disorders. So we are hopeful that Quinn will heal with the medicines the vets sent home, good food eaten in a vertical position, rest and mostly our love.

Thanks to everyone for the support while Quinn has been so sick. He finally seems to be on the mend. I'm so glad to have him home with me. I even let him lick my ears.

Current Mood: happy

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Poor little Quinn
Things are much better here on the GI front. Rocky and I are pretty much over it, with just the fatigue to sleep off. Chloe has a relatively mild case with diarrhea but no blood. She refused breakfast this morning, but is still drinking water and eager to bark at big dogs. For now, we are just watching her and she should recover without a vet's visit (it helps that she's taking the nausea med the vet prescribed for me and Quinn.)

But our poor little Quinn just seems to have every complication possible. His cast has been changed to a bandage, but now what was the main event is the least of our worries. This morning Quinn was to come home, but the vet said that he had regurgiated his breakfast while eating this morning. This is not good. He doesn't have a significant stricture, and the minor one he has was opened with a balloon on endoscopy. He has a couple red areas on his esophagus, but again doesn't seem so severe. And yet he keeps regurging. The vet said she also heard him cough, which could be a sign of his esophagitis, but could also be the start of aspiration pneumonia.

Mommy is going to call the vet back at 6 PM to see whether Quinn should come home while still regurging. Mommy was so worried while talking to the obviously concerned vet that she didn't know what to say when the vet asked if we would feel comfortable bringing him home. Now that she has had a chance to recover, we think that he should be home. I have pug-to-pug powers of healing, and Mommy could always take him back to the ER if he seemed worse. Mommy also told the ER vet that she would be willing to care for a feeding tube. The ER vet said it probably wasn't necessary at this point, but she will talk with the internist. Quinn has gained a little weight, which the vet said could be just water weight (Quinn was dehydrated when he was admitted) but still counts as weight. (?) Mommy asked if there was any kind of high-calorie diet for dogs. There is, and the vet said that it might be a good idea to start Quinn on it. I personally, loving food, would have thought of it earlier.

So things are sad for little Quinn. He has been through so much. We are still hopeful that he will recover from all this, even if it will take a long time. Mommy was crushed, but is now rallying and hitting the Web to see how she can help Quinn. First we will start with a kiss from his big brother. I miss the little dude.

Current Mood: worried

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It has to go up from here
Quinn is still at the hospital and is scheduled for an upper endoscopy tomorrow. The fear is that he will have developed a stricture in his esophagus that will need to be opened. But he is doing much, much better on the IV fluids and meds. The hope is that he will keep today's dinner down, not have a stricture, and get to come home tomorrow evening on a treatment plan based on the condition of his little esophagus.

But this poor puggie dog has been through the wringer. I was so sick that I got dehydrated, then felt sicker and didn't want to drink fluids. I was still having diarrhea. So Mommy took me to the ER, where I promptly produced a huge puddle of diarrhea that was mostly pure blood. Mommy freaked--they offered her a glass a water, the American equivalent to a cup of tea--but at least I was there. They did x-rays and blood tests that the lab screwed up and didn't do stat so we were there for four hours total, but they all were fine. Finally they injected water under my skin, which made me feel so much better, and sent me home with meds for nausea and an antibiotic. They said I might still have bloody diarrhea for a day or two, which gives Mommy the creeps. But when I got home I went right for the water dish, so I think I'm on the mend.

The good thing about going to the ER was that Mommy and I got to have a long visit with Quinn! I was so happy to see him that even feeling lousy I rallyed and kissed him and wagged my tail. Quinn was overjoyed to see us. They probably had to give him extra fluids to cover all the kisses he showered on Mommy. He was so much more perky, it did our hearts good to see him. He had a couple tubes sticking out of a bandage around his neck, but they were short and after he greeted us he fell right asleep next to Mommy. At least the exam room was relatively quiet, unlike the hospital where he couldn't get sleep--so like a human hospital!

Rocky still has diarrhea but seems to have a more mild case. But, of course, when we got home, Mommy saw a little puddle of diarrhea in the kitchen and checked Chloe's bottom and...you can guess.

That's why I'm convinced things have to get better from here on out. No pun intended.

Current Mood: sick

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The Sh-- hits the fan.
We were so encouraged that Quinn was doing better, but as soon as we discontinued the Immodium his diarrhea returned. His vomiting and regurgitation never really abated. Then this puggie dog developed the vomiting and diarrhea, too. At least that made us think that there was a virus involved. But poor little Quinn started to get dehydrated and Mommy and Eldersib also thought he didn't look good and was losing weight, so Mommy took him to the ER.

They decided to keep Quinn overnight for fluids, and are talking about doing an endoscopy on Thursday, since having the esophagitis this long could mean a stricture. But the endoscopy involves anesthesia and irritation, so it would be a mixed thing. It turns out that Quinn weighed 10.5 lbs before his surgery a month ago, without the cast. Now with the cast on his leg he only weighs 9.1 lbs, and he has been growing at the same time. This means that they are considering implanting a feeding tube so that he gets good nutrition while the esophagus heals. It could be for in for months, but no one knows right now. They are ordering tests and we will take it one day at a time.

We are all really sad. Our little puglet was just starting to feel trusting again and now he had to be left in the hospital again. This puggie is still feeling sick, too. I still have vomiting (a most spectacular spew in Mommy's lap almost had Eldersib joining me) as well as diarrhea. Mommy is going to the store to get some cream to put on my sore bottom. At least I am drinking water, and had a bowl of chicken broth for dinner. If I get dehydrated, I will have to go to the ER, and they probably wouldn't even let me visit Quinn. (At least Mommy can go see Quinn tomorrow night--but we aren't sure whether it would help or harm.)

And now after dinner...Rocky has diarrhea.

Today was supposed to be a real celebration: The Great Unconing. I wasn't up to festivities, but it sure was the very best part of the day and week when Eldersib removed the hated E-collar and scratched my neck.

Current Mood: crushed

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Smells like turd spirit!
This puggie dog hasn't written the past couple days because Nigel was just too busy following Mommy around to see that she was doing the right things for Quinn. He seemed so much better, but then he developed diarrhea which seems to have been stress related. The poor little dude, he has had too much change in his life to feel secure even though I tell him that Mommy always comes back to us.

Anyway, he was so excited to be back that he literally got his bowels in an uproar, which made his regurgitation worse. He kept Mommy up two nights in a row changing his crate bedding, and he was fussy during the day, also continually soiling his crate bedding. Mommy wasted too much time dealing with the doctors who had treated him at the specialist clinic, as his primary care vets sensibly recommended--but finally we got an Immodium dose from Dr. Monica and things started to improve. He was keeping more food down, but still spewing gobs of warm mucus on Mommy. The scene was one of washing machines and poor little Quinn crying.

But last night he slept through, and even went back to sleep after breakfast so that Mommy could pay off Mr. Sleep Debt, as we call it/him. He has that pug sparkle back in his eyes, feels better, and has a great appetite. So far two meals have stayed completely down.

And the biggest news: The stuff that came out of his bottom was soft, but torpedo shaped. Yes--our baby is on the mend. It's time for his meds, which usually stir up his tummy, but Mommy has the idea to give him his three-syringe Immodium dose over a couple hours instead of all at once.

Long live formed bowel movements!

Oh, and sorry that my lj has turned into The Bowel Report -- laughs from the past.

Current Mood: hopeful

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Our baby is home
Mommy and Eldersib brought Quinn home from the hospital last night. He was wearing a little cone to match mine, since he had started chewing his cast. So imagine the scene: I was so very happy to see him, and he was so happy to see me. I had to maneuver things so that he could stick his little cone inside my bigger cone so that we could give each other kisses.

Today he got up at 5:30 AM. Saint Eldersib took him to his Pee and Poo Crate to pee. Then he went back in his Sleeping Crate, but he kept crying. Chloe and I bent the no puppies in the bed rule so that Mommy could hold His Squirminess and still mangage to stay horizonal. But then Mommy did the unthinkable--she took off his cone! This injustice and his being on her lap all the time has raised a little jealousy in me, but I am still so glad to have him home that I can pretend.

He kept his breakfast down, and soon he will get a mid-day meal (which I don't--burn!) and we will see. But the little dude is definitely on the mend.

Current Mood: refreshed

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Quinn is coming home
At last Quinn is ready to come home. Mommy is running around like a chicken with her head cut off getting ready to drive to eldersib's so they can go spring him from the hospital. He will still need lots of TLC, but he is keeping food down and healing up. I can't wait to see my baby brother. I'm sure once I am on the job, he'll get better faster.

This cone is getting to be a real drag. It comes off a week from today, which will be not soon enough.

Current Mood: excited

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