Sorry for the absence, we have been busy at Our Little House getting taxes ready (yuck), working (would rather be playing, but having work is good), Dale’s been fighting a cold (double yuck) and we’ve been dealing with Abbi’s injury and Molly’s heart problem (triple yuck).
Perhaps it’s the distractions or tiring of the cold weather – I can’t call it Cabin Fever this year as it hasn’t been that cold – but it is winter and not spring or summer, but my mind hasn’t been too creative with regards to coming up with posts for Living Large.
I would rather give you substance rather than drivel, so I decided to take a couple of weeks off. I intended on replacing written posts this week with some photos I thought you would enjoy, but the week got away.
When a couple of people in our community contacted me this week to make sure we were still alive and kickin’ here at Our Little House, I realized I needed to get it in gear.
Thank you so much for your concern, I truly love you all!
This first photo is for Cal, especially, who wanted to see a photo of the potting/utility table Dale built from scrap pieces of pallet wood.
I’ll be back Tuesday with more photos, I promise!
What do you think of Dale's first table?
I apologize for my unexpected absence from the blog on Tuesday. It has been the “Week of the Dog” around here.
Dakota, our Doxie/Beagle mix is having terrible problems with her allergies again. This past spring, she dug her eyes so badly that she actually created what the vet called a “divot” on her cornea. It took us several weeks for us to get that to heal so she wouldn’t lose her eyesight.
This past weekend, she began digging everywhere (except her eyes, which now required two medications, twice daily). By Monday, she had scratched herself raw and by the time the vet could see her on Monday afternoon, she was bleeding from her ears, her neck….you get the idea. She was miserable, we were miserable and it was a mess.
Fast forward to this morning and she seems to be healing, the allergy meds and antibiotics to clear the bacterial infection from scratching are starting to take effect and she is acting more herself.
The vet has no idea what suddenly caused this outbreak, but suspects it was a diet change more than a month ago. We switched from one high quality food to one I felt was even better. While they all seem to enjoy the new food, Dakota’s sensitive allergy system didn’t, so back to the old food for her.
Now, Abbi has severely cut her paw and she will not allow me to put anything on it (she immediately licks it off), so I foresee another trip to the vet in our future.
We hate it when our dogs are ill or in pain and cannot tell us what is wrong.
When the weather last Saturday was a warm 70+ degrees, we decided to take the dogs for a walk.
My mom used to use the expression, “Go outside and get the stink blown off of you,” and that was partly what we were trying to do on Saturday – literally.
Emma, who also used to roam with Sade, got hit once.
While it usually only takes once before dogs realize what damage these black and white stinkers can inflict, once is more than enough, especially in a little house.
This time, I only intended on sponsoring a dog from the shelter to rescue, but as Living Large readers have quoted John Lennon so many times: “Life is something that happens when you’re making other plans.”
We have a new member of our family at Our Little House. Right now, she is officially a foster, but well, you know….
The rescue doesn’t name their dogs, as they don’t want a dog to get familiar with a name and then have it changed, but I can’t stand not naming them, so Abbi it is. I wanted to name her Annabel Lee, after my favorite Edgar Allen Poe poem, but Dale thought it too creepy.
Abbi is a fence jumper/digger. She was given up because she wouldn’t be contained in a suburban yard and when she got to rescue, they had to build her a special run as she wouldn’t be contained there either.
Last week, she got out of her special run and killed the son’s duck. In addition to dealing with her son’s grief, the owner of the rescue knew now that this poor dog couldn’t be in the suburbs or on a farm.
Our Little House, situated near neither, is perfect.