I had to go to the Dogtor today. See, I've had a cough for a couple of days, and last night I decided to keep evfurbody awake. All night. I couldn't lay my head down because I would cough and try to get this yucky junk out of my throat. So in retaliation She decided to make Me even more miserable take me to the Dogtor. I have an upper respiratory 'fection. The Dogtor thinks I may have picked it up when I went to boot camp the Doggy Resort when She LEFT me and Seth to go see my human sis. Anyway, I had to get TWO shots, and now I have to take THREE kinds of medicine! On the upside, I get Pill Pockets (yay!) because I refused to take my Trifexis on Sunday and She had to smother it in all sorts of stinky good stuff to get Me to take it. I'm learning lots of cool tricks in Blogville! Mom says I'm a really good patient most of the time, as proven in these adorable pictures of me at the Dogtor. Notice I'm trying to jump up on the torture table all by myself. She says I'm a conundrum. I think that's a good thing. Especially for a Scottie.
Thinking about it....
Trying my best
Getting my way!
Hope you're having a Wonderful Wednesday! I'm starting to feel better already!
I'm the daughter of a Pearl Harbor Survivor. And I'm thankful to be able to say that. Had the situation turned out differently, I might not have that freedom. Actually, I would not be here to write this post. My father enlisted in the Army in September, 1940. He and a buddy decided that the War would come to the US sooner rather than later, and they figured if they enlisted they would at the very least get to choose their assignment. They went to the Army Recruiting Office in Boston, and requested assignment in Hawaii. A friend had advised them not to accept any assignments in the Philippines or Panama. Initially, they were told the only assignments available were in the Philippines. They went outside to discuss their options when the Recruiting Officer came out and told them that they had just received two open positions in Hawaii. Not believing their good luck, they signed up and were assigned to Field Artillery at Schofield Barracks on the island of O'ahu. During October and November things were starting to heat up and they were placed on alert off and on. When the attack began, they thought that because they had been on alert there was a major training exercise underway and that the explosions were somehow supposed to simulate an actual attack. They only realized it was real when aircraft began strafing their quadrangle and some of the men were wounded or killed. Several of the men had turned their radios on, which is how they discovered what was happening. My dad's recollection of that moment? "Every station tuned in was either playing the National Anthem or broadcasting the news. It is hard to relate how the playing of the Star Spangled Banner affected you. For me it was a feeling of great pride coupled with a tingle up and down the spine, the feeling that you should stand at attention and salute, but also knowing that you had a job to do and had to get on with it." At the time of the attack, they had no weapons. The Howitzer's that were being shipped from the states had not yet arrived, and all other weapons had been turned in to the ordnance depot. He spent the next 24 hours transporting weapons and ammunition from the ordnance depot to the Battalion position at King Kamehameha's Ranch on the north side of the island between Kaneohe and Wyamanillo (a distance of about 100 miles round trip). He completed his last trip during the early morning of December 8th. Tension continued to run high for the next two weeks. My father did not discuss the details of his military service. I know these things because I practically begged him to document how he came to be at Pearl Harbor on the day of the attack. Maybe it was because we were girls, maybe because he didn't want to remember. Maybe, like most of his generation, he viewed it as his responsibility to protect and defend his country. They were doing their job. And they carried out their responsibilities with honor and courage. To them, what they did was nothing special. But what he and thousand of others did on that Sunday morning long ago, defending their country against an unwarranted attack, was America at its finest. To all of those who fought, and those who gave their lives defending our freedom, Thank You.
We finally got our cards in the mail! Yippee!! We had to do some serious snoopervising to get Her to finish them up...her excuse reason for taking so long? Ninety, count 'em, ninety cards! Woo-hoo! So, back to the race..
WE'RE IN THE LEAD!
BRAEDEN AND SETH = 5
THEM = A BIG, FAT GOOSE EGG
NOPE, NOT A SINGLE ONE
A big THANK YOU to everyone for making us feel so welcome in Blogville!
Here's a little "outtake" from our photo shoot. This one didn't make the cut because Braeden saw a squirrel and I was overly interested in the other doggie that came to the park. Plus the fact that She isn't a very good photographer and it didn't fit on the card BOL!
But...we did get to go for a walkie, and that was the best part! At least I think so. Braeden musta left 500 pee mails!
When I was born my lower jaw was not long enough. So when I was just a little guy I had some teeth pulled and they did therapy to lengthen my jaw and move my teeth. It worked pretty well, but I still have this thing called a malocclusion, also known as an overbite or the ability to eat apples from a picket fence. I think it makes me look kinda dashing, in a Rhett Butler kind of way. The big problem is one of my lower canines is kinda pushed in and might be hitting my palate. .It doesn't really bother me, but Mom wants to make sure I'm not gonna have problems later on. Soooooo.....
I went to the Orthodogtist yesterday. First the nice technician lady took us on a tour and I got to see everything...even the operating room and the Orthodogtist's doggie that gets to go to work with him EVERYDAY! How cool is that? (I can't go with Mom to work cuz she works at a school and I'm kinda rambunctious). Everybody ooohed and ahhhed over me and told me how handsome I am. Then we went to the torture exam room. The Orthodogtist came in and talked to Mom and the human sis, Emily. Then the fun started...I tried to escape but The Traitor Mom made me stay and have the exam. The Orthodogtist was very nice, but I was NOT in the mood to have my face held. So, I was a bit (that could be an understatement) cantankerous....I even GROWLED at Him! But, he just talked to me and rubbed my face and I gave in. Who can resist face rubs?? Anyway, they took lots of pictures of my teeth. And rubbed this little stick thingy over my gums. I love sticks, so I was thinking Yay! Something to play with! Unfortunately, it just shows how much icky periodogtal bacterias are in my mouth. It wasn't too bad, but I definitely need my chompers cleaned. Anyway, after the humiliation of being held too close (I don't like being confined), which caused the GROWLING, they let me snooper around and I took a nap on the chair while they decided my fate discussed what was best for me and my teeth.
They didn't think I was listening, but I have to have a bit of surgery. The Orthodogtist has to take out some of the stuffs inside the offending tooth, and then make it shorter so it doesn't hit my palate....I think they must mean plate...I really don't care if my teeth hit my plate, that's where the food is, but whatever! She hasn't said when this indignity will occur, so I'm off the leash for now. Keep your paws crossed for me. I don't think I like this idea, but I'm sure I can use it to my advantage in some way. Perhaps a few extra treats and cuddle time with the Peeps. That would work for me!
I hope you all have a safe and happy Thanksgiving! I'm thankful my Mom cares so much that she wants to do what's right for me and my teeth. Oh...and for turkey! And maybe Braeden....
She did it! Mom finally got the blog thingy down, with LOTS of help and patience from Jazzi's mom! Waggies to you, Jazzi's mom! I don't know if She would have ever figured it out on Her own. We can't wait to make lots of friends in Blogville. We've been reading your posts and must say We love snoopering around to see what fun you have been up to.
A little about us:
I am a brindle Scottie, and I'm 4 years old. Mom adopted me from the Rescue in Dallas in May, 2010. The people who owned me before I went to live with my foster peeps did not have a connection with me, and decided I just wasn't the right dog for them. Some people... Mom fell for me when we had our meet and greet and the rest, as they say, is history. I am kinda shy when I first meet people, but once I get to know them, we're friends fur life. I'm the Chief Shenanigans Officer around here, and I have to keep my adopted brother in line...he's still catching on to the way things work.
I am a wheaten Scottie, and my barkday is November 20th, right around the corner! I will be 2 years old. I came to live with Braeden and the peeps on September 22, 2013. I'm the resident mole chaser and I love to dig, and much to Mom's dismay, eat acorns. I still have lots of puppy energy, so I'm a bit of a challenge, but I'm lovin' my new furever home!
So, that's a little about Us. We're getting a bit impawtient cuz it's dinnertime (yay food!), so we're off. Have a fantastic Wednesday!