I awakened with a start. My head was on fire with the stinging of a million bees. No, wait. It was this:
Sitting on my head, her claws deeply attatched to my scalp, pulling it off the skull and purring loudly. Did I mention the drool? My hair was soaked. And there was poop. On my pillow.
Aida is fourteen. A year younger than Carkeysmen. I don't think I'll ever have two geriatric pets at the same time. It's a lot of work. We staggered the others when we realized that the problems older dogs and cats incur can be quite demanding. And neither of them can help what is going on with their aging bodies. So all we can do is love them and make them as healthy and comfortable as we can.
But seriously? That stinging me in the scalp at 5:17 because there's thunderstorm coming and you need comforting needs to go, Aida Velveeta. I'd like to reschedule for 7:15, if that's at all possible.
* Due to an unfortunately inappropriate, rude and slightly insane mean commenter, I have had to switch to a moderating format in the comments. That means I will have to approve all comments before posting. I hate it, but neither you nor I should be exposed to people like that.*
Okay. Soooooo, things were a little sketchier than normal in Carmen's world yesterday. As I was closing the gate behind Hud on his way to work, I was startled to see Carmen's happy smiling face begging to come outside. She was up an hour earlier than normal. In fact, I usually have to get her up or she'd sleep all day. I let her out and began the ritual of leaving her in the yard for twenty minutes. If you don't close the door on her, she barks to come back in and poops on the rug. That's not a choice I like to provide her, so I leave her out. She barkbarkbarkbarkBARKS! wahhooooo, until she accidentally pops out a doodie. Then she realizes that she has to go and wanders off to do her business.
Dementia is fun.
When she has completed the task at hand or rather, rump, I open the door for her. She hops up the steps and dances for her breakfast. I hold my hand out to her as I am shutting the door or she will bounce so hard, she'll come crashing down the back steps. We dance into the kitchen. I get some dry food and my homemade food in her dish. I add a cup of water, because she has forgotten that she is supposed to drink. Yes, she stares at the bowl, but can't remember what to do with it. It's the only way we can get her to drink at all.
*This is from Simone's first birthday, before Carkeys misplaced Carmen's mind. *
Yesterday, we had to perform the ritual three times. She'd eat. Lick out everyone else's bowl. Climb the stairs. Stay for fifteen minutes. Get out of bed. Hippity hoppity down the staircase. Beg to go out. BarkbarkbarkbarkBARK! Wahhooooo...
I finally got her to lie down in the dining room. Hud and I had lunch. The other three were right underneath the table getting all sorts of yummy bits. But Carkeys? Was peacefully napping at the other end of the table. She was completely unaware of what the rest of us were doing. At least she's happy and sweet. Those characteristics have not been lost yet. I hope Carkeys never discovers them.
Those are the days I wish Carmen's brain had come with a Clapper. That way I could clap my hands and turn the brightness back on in her once intelligent brain.
Why is everybody making such a big deal out of Shania Twain's trip and fall entrance to the CMAs Wednesday? Is it because she is so lovely? Talented? Because she made such a big deal out of it?
*This image is an AP photo from The Hollywood Insider*
The "most embarrassing moment of your life"? Really? Like finding out your husband is cheating on you with your best friend rated below that? Hmmmm.
I am a clutz. Always have been. You know the DaVinci drawing of the Vitruvian Man? We were studying it in art school, learning proportions. The instructor asked us to stand up and put our arms down to our sides. Our center of balance he explained, should run directly through our wrists. Hmmmm. While the other students realized that their ran through their lower abdomens, mine? Went through my thighs. I have extremely long limbs and a short torso. My center of balance was non-exisistant. So that explains it.
In high school, my art club, decided to go to the University of Richmond to see a comedienne/mime perform. At some point, she asked for a child to come to stage and all of us pointed to our art teacher who is a very small woman. Instead, she called six foot tall, sixteen year old me. As I approached, she made some remark about arresting me for smuggling watermelons. Hmmmm. I asked her if she was ticketed for smuggling walnuts. Everybody laughed. She handed me a microphone and gave me a cue to follow at the end of a story she enacted. It was a tale of a frog and a princess and at the proper point, I croaked into the mic. One of the Furry Godmother's hidden talents is that she can replicate the exact sound of a croaking bullfrog. The Mime's jaw dropped. The crowd roared. I curtsied.
The stage lights were blinding as I approached the edge. Did I mention I was wearing brand spanking new Frye boots that I had never worn before? Step one, I managed. Step two, I fell promptly on my derierre. The gasping of the crowd (of cute college boys, dammit) nearly sucked me back up onto my feet. The comedienne ran to assist me. "Are you all right?" she exclaimed.
"Oh, yeah," I sighed, "I'll do anything for a laugh." And the crowd, thinking by now that I was part of the act, bellowed with laughter. And gave me a standing ovation as I gave them the queen's wave back to my seat.
Shania, even that wasn't my most embarrassing moment. Hmmmm.
Things are finally getting into a groove around here now that Hud is gainfully employed! He is the Director of Operations/ Administrative Dept at SRVS. He is so very happy. It is all rainbow glitter and unicorns around the Hudarosa.
Estela the Spider Monkey is now on view in Melbourne Zoo's Primate Nursery with her grandmother Sonja. Estela was abandoned at birth by her mother Sunshine, so Primate Keepers stepped in to provide 24/7 care to pull the tiny newborn through since her birth on January 17th.
Primate Supervisor Jess McKelson explains "Because Sonja didn't feed Estela, the baby didn't get the crucial protection against infection that comes from the colostrum in mother's milk. So the baby has been very prone to infection, and we have needed to keep her under quarantine conditions at times. But we have still placed a major priority on getting her acquainted with her grandmother, Sonya, so she can learn the behaviours that are natural to a Spider Monkey."
Ahhhh. Nothing like a tiny monkey making it through diversity to put a fresh spin on your old wounds.
Everybody send a wave of good vibrations to my sweet husband, Hud, today. He really could use some of the blog love, too. Thanks for all of it that you sent my way. Like my friend, Virgina said," It's like finding an extra cookie when you think you've reached the end of the box!"