If I Had A Dog

Sometimes when I'm laying in bed at night, I think about all sorts of random things.  What would my dream house look like?  What would be the most peaceful colors for a bedroom?  Why am I not laying on a hammock someplace tropical right now?  (Insomnia brings about deep thinking.)  And so on.  

Last night, I got to thinking about dogs.  I have a confession to make...  You know how there are people who prefer dogs or cats or birds or snakes, etc? I prefer none.  If I had a choice between having any animal I wanted, all expenses paid, or having no animal at all, I'd pick no animal at all.  They're just SO MUCH WORK!  Plus there's the whole getting super attached to an animal and then having it die, and I just figure, why put myself through all that?  

I realize that this probably tells a lot about me.  People might think that I'm a cold, unfeeling person, or that I'm dead inside, because who doesn't love animals?  Well, I DO love animals!  I think they're great!  Giraffes are the best, seahorses are the coolest, bunnies are adorable, puppies and kittens are frickin' heart-melters, penguins be stylin', and so on.  I love animals.  But do I want to deal with the care of one?  Not so much.

See, here's the thing: I can't handle gross.  Anything gross.  You want to tell me all about your surgery and show me scars?  I'll buy you flowers to keep you quiet.  TV shows want to put bloody wounds all up in my face?  TV goes off. Zombies?  NO THANK YOU.  And that's the thing about animals.  They do gross better than just about anyone else.

Now, I get that most of what animals do is NOT "be gross."  But you've got to admit, they do leave "surprises" from both ends of their bodies around often enough that for me it overshadows the rest.  Why, WHY would I want to walk around carrying a bag o' poo?  To quote Leopold from the movie "Kate and Leopold," "Are you suggesting madam that there exists a law compelling a gentleman to lay hold of canine bowel movements?"  Exactly.

Now that I've enraged animal lovers anywhere, here's a collage of animal photos to woo you back:

You might have noticed that the title of this blog post is, "If I Had A Dog."  The reason for that is that, despite my protestations above, there's that part of me that wonders what it would be like to have a dog.  My cousins have the sweetest Golden Doodle ever - his name is Blue and he never fails to make me smile:

Blue, just one of the gang.

I often tell my cousin that Blue restores my faith in animals - so loving and sweet and goofy.  While I personally can't see myself with a dog Blue's size, he does make me wonder if having an animal like him would be worth all of the fuss.  So, instead of actually worry about getting a dog, I lay in bed and think about what I'd name one if I did.  (Sorry to cat lovers out there, but I will never own a cat, partially due to being allergic to them, but also largely due to their sneaking, plotting ways...)  

Here are a few ideas for names I came up with while laying in bed last night:

• Lord Rothschild
• Steve  (while some might think this name comes from me once dating a guy named Steve, that's not it at all - I just think Steve would be a hilarious dog name)
• Walter
• Marty McFly
• Doc Brown
• Professor Fluffington
• Anne Murray
• Wolverine
• Mystique
• Amy Pond
• The Doctor
• Thor
• Squidward
• Albus Dumbledor
• Viktor Krum
• Mulder
• Scully
• Captain Phantom
• The Crimson Chin

Maybe there are other reasons I don't have a dog, come to think of it...  

Lyrical Thursday: Hyacinths

In honor of the first day of spring, I wanted to share a poem that I honestly can't believe I haven't shared yet, as it's one of my favorites!  It also happens to be a favorite of my mom's, and she used to recite it on occasion.  It's short, but has a very upbeat message that I find to be true.  No matter how down-and-out things are, hyacinths can always bring your (or at least my) spirits up.  Flowers in general do that for me - something bright and sweet to cheer up even the dullest days!

The poem is attributed to Moslih Eddin Saadi, a Mohammadan Sheik and Persian poet who lived in the 12th-13th centuries, and is usually called Hyacinths to Feed Thy Soul, or simply, Hyacinths:

If of thy mortal goods thou art bereft,

And from thy slender store two loaves alone

 to thee are left - 

Sell one, and with the dole

Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.

I did a painting for my mom one year with the poem at the bottom.  The picture's not that clear - I'll see if I can get a better one soon!  For now, Happy Spring, everyone!!!

Happy Eight Day!

As mentioned in my last post, I recently came down with a nasty case of bronchitis (my second this winter).  The good/bad thing (depending on how you look at it) is that it happened over midwinter break, so I was off work and able to rest.  I did just that, and felt like I was well on my way to recovery by the time the week was over.  I was still coughing some, and had been for over a week, but it wasn't as bad as it had been.  

Sunday afternoon, as I was cleaning up after making some delicious cupcakes, I started coughing.  It didn't seem any worse than any other coughing fit I'd had that week, but there was one big difference.  I don't know if I just coughed harder than normal or if it was the strain of coughing for a week straight, but an intense pain started to grow in my ribcage.  I tossed it off at first as a pulled muscle or maybe an inflammation, but after a sleepless, painful night, it was clearly much worse.

Monday morning, I bit the bullet and drove myself to Urgent Care.  The whole time, I kept thinking of Brian Regan's Emergency Room routine (below), when he talks about driving himself to the hospital.  I thought of him again as I sat in the room and the nurse asked me how I would rate my pain on a scale of one to ten.  I didn't say eight (though I thought about it!), and instead said six or seven.  The doctor came in, did his tests, and told me what I'd suspected: I'd fractured a rib.  From coughing.  Not from doing something awesome, like wrestling a bear, or doing a sweet jump on a bike, or sky diving.  Nope, coughing.    

One week and several medications later, I'll be honest, I'm tired of having a fractured rib!!  There's not much that can be done for it, so I take medicine, ice it, try to rest, and try not to complain (sorry about failing just now...).  I admire people with chronic pain who bear it with a good attitude.  It just makes me all kinds of crabby!!  In an effort to cheer myself up, I decided I'd go back and re-watch some Brian Regan, and thought I'd invite you to join me.  I have some exciting news I'll post about soon, and a new direction I might be taking this (or another) blog.  In the mean time, here's to a few good laughs!! (Though not too hard...it hurts!)