Nice Thursday

I finally managed to drag my ass back to the gym. I wasn’t keen at all. But of course I’m glad I went now. My back will thank me for it, I’m sure. Only swam 400m but at least it’s a start.

Speaking of my back, it is feeling a lot better now. (Than it was after I thumped it onto the tiles when that damn chair broke under me). My coccyx is still tender, though. Only when I sit down at a certain angle, but it definitely isn’t 100%. Still, it will only have been two weeks since the fall on Sunday, so it’s a bit soon to be worried about it. I’ve just heard so many horror stories on the subject of tailbones being broken and growing on skew.

My rose-bud is finally starting to open. There is hint of coffee there, for sure. I am watching that rose as if it were one of those desert flowers that only bloom once every hundred years.

While sitting on the grass, taking this photo, someone was biting my leg…

(Eek! Look at my furry thigh in the sunlight. I never shave above the knees. Mind you, these days I don’t shave below the knees much either.)

I better start making a bit of an effort. As it is Michael greets the dog before he greets me, lol. Mind you, have you seen the dog?

We’ve had her for a week now, and let’s face it, we’ve lost the plot a bit as far she’s concerned But she’s just so cute and lovable. It’s so lovely to have something to take care of. Speaking of which, we’ve gotta go to the vet’s again tomorrow for shots.

Table-tennis was fun again. My dear mom-in-law wiped the floor with me (2 games to 1) but at least Michael and I won the doubles game tonight

Hot!

I hope this is a heat-wave that we are having, and more importantly, that it will soon be over. So hot!

The days are blurring into each other a bit. I must start to focus. I still haven’t settled down completely, mentally, after the move.

It has been quite an eventful week, though, in my defence. It’s not every week that I have such a life altering experience as getting a Bluebeary

Quick diatribe on how cute she is, brace yourself:

When we accidently step on her paw, she cries in pain to let us know, and then when we fuss over her, she lifts the paw that got stepped on to show us where she got hurt. Then we have to apologise and then the tail wags to show that she has graciously forgiven us. I know everyone thinks their dog is gifted, but… lol.

I made some remark to Michael, referring to Bluebeary as the ‘child’. I did this half jokingly (but not completely jokingly, ha ha.) Michael said, “Don’t you mean the ‘chowld’? We had a good laugh about that, and then he topped it by saying, “She’s an only chowld, so she’s a bit spoilt.” Michael is a real card. I’m so lucky to have him to make me laugh all day.

My mom says that Bluebeary landed with her bum solidly in the butter by coming to live with us. Hee hee, that’s about right.

I might have to change her name to ‘Piranha’ though…

 

Our daily photo shoot. We haven’t had something this cute to photograph in ages (or ever!) so bear with us, please. (Geddit? Bear  with us This photo is remarkable in that that was the only split second that she sat still for the photo’s.

On Saturday, I went to a stork tea, and Michael went to GAME to buy our table-tennis table. Him and I were both crazy about the game when we younger, so were pretty excited about this. It is all set-up now in our garage and we are having a grand old time with it.

In the evenings, my parents-in-law walk to our house (remember, they live just round the corner) and come and play a few rounds with us. Tonight we played doubles, and they beat us.

M and I sure do come from good stock. His parents are wiping the floor with us at table-tennis, and my parents are up and down chain-ladders in the Drankensberg.

Like I always tell people, I can’t keep up with my parents

 

Musical doggie

I was playing Mozart on the keyboard today. Both times, Bluebeary came and lay quietly at my feet while I was doing so. Isn’t that something?

It’s not the first time I have experienced it, though. Dogs like Mozart. I remember when I was at school and practising for piano exams, whenever I played Mozart, all the dogs in the vicinity would come and lie outside the piano room. Too many times for it to be coincidence.

I’ve been playing the Maple Leaf Rag all week, and Beary couldn’t have been less interested. But as soon as I started playing Mozart’s Turkish March, or Rondo Alla Turk, as it’s known, she instantly materialized at my feet. It would be interesting to do a proper study on the topic.

I love my little Bluebeary with the blue tongue:

And so does Michael:

Look at how she peeps out of the door to see us coming home:

And just look how gorgeous she looks after her bath:

On a different note (pardon the pun) here is a pic of the rose bush that I planted. It has made two buds, and I am very excited to see them bloom. The colour is supposed to be a creamy coffe colour, hence the name 7de Laan, with its famous coffee shop.

Beary is trying to gaff the bud off. I think she is doing it to tease me, because she has sensed that I have a thing about the rose bush, the only item in the garden that is off-limits to her.

I can’t wait for the bud to open. Anyone who knows my hopeless record with plants will understand why this is an event to me

Oh, and last but not least, have I mentioned how much I am loving our new home? There is the most beautiful frog chorus here at night. We hear it loud and clear from our bedroom and I think it is the ultimate lullaby. When I close my eyes, as I drift off to sleep I can imagine that I am deep in the bushveld somewhere, next to a spruit. Exquisite.

Worms :-(

Bluebeary is a puppy unlike any I’ve known before.

I read on all the websites that Chows are very easy to house train, and instinctively don’t want to mess in the living area. But I thought we’d at least have to put in some effort. Well, I was wrong. That little dog hasn’t messed in our house once. (Except for one little poo when we locked her in the whole night. She must have come into our room to call us and we were sleeping so deeply that we never heard. So she left us a little present

But apart from that, she hasn’t messed once. Every time she needs to go, she hotfoots it out between the bars of the security gate (it’s touch and go for her to fit through, we’ll have to make a plan for when she gets bigger) and does her business outside on the grass. So cute.

She also hasn’t cried at night once. She settled down really quickly and doesn’t bother us at all during the night.

This is just the sweetest dog. She nibbles us gently on our fingers and toes (and in Michael’s case his ears and hair!) And she’s very playful. Loves running around and chasing us.

She’s such a happy (and probably somewhat spoilt) puppy. I was reading a book yesterday and she lay at my feet, sleeping. Every now and then, she would wag her tail in her sleep.

Unfortunately, her perfect little world is no more. This morning, Michael woke me up when he had to leave for work because Bluebeary was throwing up. I got up, took her out for a pee and sat with her for a bit, but she seemed all right, so I went back to sleep. (This was 5:30am and I had only gone to bed at 00:30 the previous night).

Anyway, got up later to find little puke puddles (clear, obviously only bile) on the (fortunately tiled) floor. Not only that, but three pink worms, as long as my pinky. She didn’t look very well, so at 10:30 her and I drove off to the vet, who was rather amused when I showed him the photo of one of the worms on my cellphone:

Apparently, it’s an ordinary ’round worm’.

She has been dewormed, but the vet explained to me that sometimes the first deworming only kills 80% of the worms and some are left in the intestines *especially if the mother had worms).

So my little Bluebeary Muffin had some deworming syrup and I was given a pill to give her tomorrow.

Other than that, she is doing A-okay. She was most affronted when the vet stuck the thermometer up her backside. And she cried a bit when she got her penicillin injection (to guard against secondary infections stemming from worm-bites in her intestines, yuck). And she was shivering, so I knew she must be really scared because with that thick pelt there was no way she was getting cold.

We are going back on Friday for some vaccinations. I am learning a lot about puppy shots. Apparently Cat Flu is actually called Canine Parvo Virus, or CPV for short. This I found out on my old stamping ground, the internet. It is so nice to have something to research other than my MS, lol.

Blueberry has already had her first round of shots from her original owner, called Nobivac Puppy DP, so at least she is immune to Cat Flu and Distemper. I found out that once Cat Flu has been in your yard, it can remain there for years. Scary, seeing as we just moved to a new place and the previous occupants had dogs. So at least I don’t have to worry about that.

When we got home, I discovered that she’d had a little pee in the car (fortunately only on the rubber mats) and had lain in it. So I had to give her a bath. She’s huffy with me now, as she didn’t enjoy that at all. I don’t think she’s feeling very well after the meds. Poor little baby. Bloody worms.

Michael is a bit worried about the worms, as she has been licking him from top to toe. (Not on the mouth, though, after dire threats from me that I will never, ever kiss him again if he lets dogs lick him on the mouth I reckon Mike and I will both have to have a bit of a de-worming session. Actually, I have it on good authority that all of us should take a de-worming pill every six months, especially if we do any gardening (check) and handle animals at all (check). When I went on the Quantec machine, it said that I had a tapeworm. Dawn, the practitioner, assured me the machine had already gone into the frequency of the worm and ‘zapped’ it. Sound like science fiction? Do yourself a favour and go read up about Dr Hulda Clark and her remarkable research and patented equipment.

Bluebeary didn’t want to sit with me after her bath and went and crawled into a canvas sack that we used for the move. Check it out:

I think she’s forgiven me since, as she did come and sit on my lap for a while. She’s sleeping again now, poor little sick doggie.

In case it wasn’t clear, Michael and I are gaga over this little animal.

The morning after we brought her home, I woke up and saw a shape lying next to our bed. (It was still dark). So I crooned, “Hello, Bluebeary girlie. Hello my doggie.”

Michael immediately sat up in bed and said, “Ag, shame. Isn’t that cute? She came and found us. Hello Bluebeary”

We continued talking to her, and then I saw, “Oh, cute, she’s lying on my slippers.”

A long pause… “Wait a minute, those are my slippers!”

How we laughed. Lying there talking to my slippers like idiots.

Bluebeary, in the meantime, was sleeping on her pillow in our living room. Oblivious. lol.

 

Can you imagine what we are going to be like when we have a child? I don’t know if my nerves are up to it.

As it is we aged ten years the day we brought her home. We left her sleeping peacefully in the garden (it was twilight) and went to the mini-supermarket quickly for dog food and milk. We left the back door open for her lest she get scared and want to go in.

When we got back, we ran to the garden and stopped in our tracks. She was gone.

We ran around, whistling and calling her, to no avail. Went back in the house and ran from room to room, calling, slightly hysterically by now. Nothing.

Michael ran out the front door, where the parking facilities for the complex are and also the main gate out, with bars big enough for her to fit through. And did I mention that there is a farm directly across the road from us that keeps wolves? By that time, we were convinced that she was wolf-bait. Michael ran down the road, calling her frantically.

Eventually, we went back in the house. By that time, I had accepted she was gone and I was heartbroken. I told myself I never wanted another dog, because nothing could replace her. All the while, there was thunder rolling outside, signalling an imminent storm.

I started checking under beds and in wardrobes, just in case.

Michael followed suit, and I just sagged in relief when he called that he’d found her. She had sandwiched herself into a tiny niche behind our tv cabinet and was sleeping soundly. Phew.

I don’t know how people cope with it if their kids go missing. I think I’d rather die.

I must add that it was a fantastic feeling driving my baby to the vet’s. I’m much more comfortable behind the wheel of the car now. And I am filled to the brim with gratitude that I am so much better that I can drive again. If I haven’t said it before, “Viva Fingolimod”.

Bluebearies are good for you ;-)

Blueberries (called bilberries in the UK) are good for MS. (Well, good for health in general, but in MS they help nerves to remyelinate).

I’m thinking a Bluebeary could be really good for a person, too

7 years

Yesterday was my seven year anniversary since being diagnosed with MS.

What a rollercoaster ride it has been, and how much better I feel about it than I have over the past couple of years when this date has rolled by. Fingolimod has had a huge amount to do with it. Thank Heavens for medical research and breakthroughs.

To say that MS has changed the course of my life would be a huge understatement, Or would it? Would my life really have been so very different? Difficult to say, really, because at the end of the day, I’m still me.

I am very excited at the prospect of going on the extention phase of the trials. The neuro seems confident that I will be invited. If my theory is correct, and I am on the 0.5mg dosage, then it would make logical sense for my neurologist to put me on the 1.25mg dosage. On extention phase, he decides which dosage to put his various patients on. I have a feeling that I will then finally be able to kiss my relapses goodbye.

My relapses have been tamed considerably, but I still get them on average every 3 months. I can hardly contemplate a life without relapses, except to know that it will be surreally wonderful

So yes, I am looking forward to early next year when extention phase will commence for me.

 

In other news, Michael and I are having a wonderful time with our little Bluebeary.

I always had a bit of a secret disdain for people that treated their dogs like children. I am now not dangerously close to that line, but well beyond it, lol. I am so attached to that little doggie already. We worry terribly about her if we go anywhere without her. We are a family of three now I suppose a lot can be said about the psychology of this. Surrogate child and all that, but the truth is that she has slotted neatly into a little gap that was in our home and we love her madly already. Our first ‘dependent’ since we got married.

Could I look any more like a teddy-bear?

Sitting on Michael chest and staring into his eyes.

Sitting on my lap and nibbling my finger, so softly.

A tiny little bear paw.

Yes, I am now a fully fledged doggie-blogger

Bluebeary – cutest puppy ever!

Note: As this post has been so popular, I have created an update here. And for those of you that were curious about the breed, Bluebeary is a Chow Chow.

Who was I kidding?

It was love at first sight, after all.

This morning I phoned the estate agents from which we rented our previous flat. I asked about the key-deposit and they said no problem, we can come and get it tomorrow. We could have gotten a cheque today already, but as that takes 14 days to clear she said she’ll rather give it to us in cash tomorrow.

So that is over R2000 we were not really bargaining on. Yay! Suddenly we’re not skint anymore.

Michael came with me to the pet shop so that we could see if he is allergic to Chow puppies. When he saw them, he fell head over heals in love and before I knew it, we were on our way home with our new puppy.

(When Michael saw her in the cage, he immediately said, “Hello, Bluebeary, hello my dog.” So sweet.)

So far, so good as far as the hayfever is concerned. He lay with her on his chest while watching tv, and she doesn’t seem to be affecting his chest.

She seems to have a very sweet personality. Just nibbles gently at our hands, not trying to bite that it hurts. She’s already sleeping at our feet. Walked around the whole house exploring every nook and cranny and making herself at home. (She’s in the house because the gardener is mowing the grass, but if Michael doesn’t suffer from dog hair allergies she probably will be spending a lot of time indoors, especially when it’s really hot outside.

Michael says that she is definitely a dog of status. (They were the royal guard dogs in ancient China and as a breed do have rather a scheme of themselves. Anyway, she’s willing to play but in a dignified manner.

Before we went to fetch her, I phoned the original owner. He lives on a farm and I really gave him twenty questions. He says both her parents are registered Chows. He wasn’t intending to breed the dogs, the uppies just came, lol. They haven’t been registered and it doesn’t bug me at all but it’s nice to know she comes from good stock.

She received her vaccinations already in a 3-in-1 shot by the farmer himself, so that’s good.

I asked about the temperament of the parents and he said they are really good watch dogs. But they ‘eat the family members up’ with love. (Direct translation of an Afrikaans saying meaning, to be very affectionate. He says they are very loving to his children. That is good news. I don’t really want a dog that is going to be mean with children.

So all in all, a very good day.

• My back is starting to improve.
• We’re getting our key-deposit back.
• My new rosebush that I planted myself (!) (it’s called a 7de Laan rose, for those of you that love the soapie) made a bud.
• I got my little Bluebeary!

Bluebeary/ Blackbeary

I have had this idea in my head, since learning that we were going to move and be able to have a dog that I wanted to get a Chow Chow. I have always liked the breed, and the more I read up about them, the more it seemed like the perfect dog for us. They don’t need a large yard and they are good watch dogs. And if you get a well bred Chow Chow they are friendly enough, although they are very dignified dogs. They aren’t yappers, barking at the their own shadows the whole day. They are also easy to house-train and are not messy dogs at all. Plus, I think they are really beautiful.

They are high-maintenance as far as grooming goes, but let’s face it – I have the time, and I love grooming a dog. I had a dog as a kid who had a shaggy coat that needed a lot of grooming and I found it very therapeutic to groom him.

So I’ve had it in my mind for a while already. I even told Michael I had an imaginary ‘bear-dog’ (as I call them) called Beary. I’d irritate him by saying Beary was in the car at my feet, etc.

Then I got to calling her Bluebeary, because of the blue tongue that all Chows have.

This in turn changed to Blackbeary when it looked as though we might adopt a 10 month-old black Chow Chow.

The thing is, we do need a watchdog, and I do need some company around the house.

Actually, I would love a baby, but that can’t happen for the next 2 years, because of the medical trials I am on. And the danger of having to postpone a thing and postpone it some more, is that it may never happen at the end of the day. I’m practical about it. Though we would love children, we have agreed that we would rather have my good self in good health if we had to choose. Hopefully, it won’t come down to a choice.

So while a dog is a far cry from a baby, I think I would like something (somedog) to fuss over. Someone (somedog) who is always consistently and ecstatically happy to see me. (Unlike a baby, come to think of it, lol) (Unlike a husband, come to think of it, LOL).

Dogs are great. There’s a reason why they are called man’s best friend.

I haven’t had a dog since I lived at my parents house, eight years ago. And I do like dogs!

So today, Michael casually dropped into the conversation that Chows had been sighted in our hometown. By my mom-in-law, who has patiently been listening to all my talk of Chow Chows. I toodled over to the pet shop, mainly just to entertain myself, because I don’t actually think it’s the best idea to ever buy from a pet shop. Well, that was a bad idea. I fell a little bit in love, surprise, surprise. You see, there I saw this adorable pair of cuties:

Hmmm, I don’t want to make a hasty decision, based on the cuteness of the puppies and then have to repent at leisure, but look at them!

I feel like hopping in the car right now and going to collect my little Bluebeary, who jumped up against her cage’s bars and cried when I had to leave her there. Unfortunately, it is  not just my decision and we are rather skint after the move, and Michael does get hayfever, and my back is  killing me since I used it to break my fall the other day when the chair broke under me (that’s going to make all the grooming and bathing a leetle bit difficult). Also, Chows do get hot with all that fur and this is set to be one HOT Summer. The dog is rather pricy and we do need to buy a whole lot of accessories to go with it. And I’m told they eat a lot, dogs And a dog ties you down. Can’t have that with our jetsetting lifestyle. (Spot the sarcasm). Still, you never know.

So there are a whole lot of reasons not to get the dog. And only one to get it: I want it.

Probably not good enough at this stage.

Be sensible, Maggie.

Catch up

Woah! I am so far behind. Blogging? What’s that? … oh yes.

The move went really well. Michael took a day off work on the 30th of September and we started packing/ moving stuff at 5:30am and at 21:30pm were still in our old flat cleaning up and clearing out the last of our debris. We left the place absolutely spick and span, neat as a pin. It may have looked a tad piggy when we lived there, on occasion, but nobody could say a thing against how we left it. Unfortunately there were a few Polyfilla marks on the one wall where we had to fix up the holes from where we had the dart board mounted. (Also from the holes which *someone* left when they threw the dartboard miss and gaffed chunks out of the wall. And no, it wasn’t Michael – his aim is unerring, thanks to his varsity days playing darts at all hours.)

Because of the Polyfilla, we are not holding our breath to get our key deposit back. At this stage it will be a bonus if we do. The landlord is a bit cut-throat. Nevermind that he’ll have to have the place painted out anyway, thanks to the rising damp – he’ll still pin it on us and our poor polyfilla gesture. Maybe I should have a bit more confidence in him, he might surprise us yet. I really hope so, because that will finance my Blackbeary. (More on that later).

On a personal level, I really surprised myself with my stamina re: the move. I packed and unpacked just about the whole day solid and only got vaguely wobbly once or twice, and it didn’t slow me down for long. Then I spent the next two days grafting hard, unpacking all our belongings into our new home. I actually couldn’t believe when Thursday rolled around. I still maintain that I lost two or three days somewhere along the line. Sjoe, but I don’t want to move again in a hurry. What a schlepp! Such a disruption, I’m still not entirely back to normal.

It has been worth it, though. We LOVE our new place. It has been built with a view to comfort, that’s for sure. More on that when I post again, plus photo’s.

About the Blackbeary…it’s not what you think.

Not even close.

But I’m too tired and sore now. Will fill my readers in tomorrow. Hint: Note the errant ‘a’ in my spelling of Blackbeary.

Why am I sore?

Interesting story.

I was making a pizza this afternoon. Had just finished the dough and was waiting for the yeast to rise. Sat down at our dining-room table on a wooden chair to colour-code my new house-keys. No sooner had I sat down than I got the distinct impression that I was rolling backwards across the tiles. I was so flabbergasted. Since when did the wooden kitchen chair have wheels? Next thing, the whole chair collapsed and I fell down (hard!) right on my coccyx. It was so painful and as I lay on the floor, for a scary second I couldn’t move my legs. I had screamed and Michael came running out of the computer room. There I was, lying on the ground, surrounded by chair parts. I managed to get up, after lying in foetal position, crying, for a brief spell and thankfully nothing seemed to be broken.

I am feeling extremely tender, though. My back and hips are aching, and my tailbone will surely be black and blue in the morning. Photo’s pending.

Only kidding. I have a very quaint little tailbone but I do not have the exhibitionist streak in me required to post photo’s of it on the net ;-)

And the pizza? While somewhat delayed, it came out delicious! Michael won second prize at a golf competition. I may have mentioned that. What I didn’t mention, because I only found out about it two days ago, is what the prize is.

It’s a Pineware electric, nonstick frying pan. Quite deluxe. Quite magical, too. It’s hardly possible to screw up anything that you cook with it. It makes the most fantastic, fluffy omelets. and today we tried out the pizza recipe and that came out brilliantly, too. It cooked for 8 minutes, I kid you not! And the crust looked like it came straight out of Italy! Okay, I jacked it in the oven for five minutes just to grill the toppings a little longer, but that was just to tweak it for the finishing touch. It really did surpass my expectations. I hardly like taking credit for it, it’s that amazing frying-pan. If you’d told me that you could make a pizza  in a frying pan, in less than ten minutes I would not have believed you, but I saw it with my own eyes.

Incredible.

I love that my hubby’s a golfer. He wins us the most awesome prizes!