Inane Chatter

I haven’t pointed you guys here in a while, but hopefully you’ve found your own way.  In case you need a nudge, check out today’s post.  Level 3 makes me laugh and cringe at the same time, particularly near the end of the section.

I solved my focus problem at work today (answer: work closely with someone else), but I’m totally worn out.  So for now, for tonight, no internet, no TV.

Wait – almost forgot.  Roxy had a seizure last night around 11pm (which might explain some of the tiredness).  She’s fine now, and the seizure itself was pretty normal.  Just one, no cluster.  Her last one was somewhere  between 10 days and two weeks ago, I think.  I’m not sure because I didn’t write it down or call the vet to let them know.  I don’t know why I didn’t.  I just let it slip.  ‘Cause, you know, I don’t care about my dog.  Clearly.  Poor puppy.

I fell today.  I was jogging along with the dogs, and I started to untwist the leashes, which is something I do at least three times every day I take them with me (Riley ducks and weaves around Roxy – he doesn’t want to miss a single tree, mailbox, clump of weeds, drain, or bush), and I stopped paying attention to my feet.  Usually not an issue.  Today, though, the sidewalk reached up and grabbed my heel, forcing me to trip over the seam.  For a split-second, while my feet were scrabbling for purchase, I thought I had it, I thought I was going to be able to recover and stay on my feet, but then I lost it.  I slammed into the sidewalk, caught myself with the heels of both palms and my right elbow, and bounced onto my right side.  (I think.  That’s the only explanation I can think of for why the right side of my thigh is scraped and bruised (along with my hands and that one elbow), but not my knees.)  I rolled onto the grass in someone’s front yard to take stock and find the leashes I’d dropped.  The scrapes are mostly just along the surface so my skin is a little rough, but there was no blood except for the scrape along my elbow.  Still, I cut my run short and headed home.

Not the most auspicious start to my day.

For the first time in many many months, it’s cooler outside than inside (and there’s a breeze!), so I’ve opened the windows.  Feels good.  I can hear the windchimes from the front porch.  Roxy doesn’t care one way or the other (she’s happily gnawing on a new bone), so Riley and I sat out on the deck for a few minutes and communed with the crickets.  What time do crickets quit?  Or am I crazy for thinking they don’t do a lot of cricketing during the day?  Seems like a night-time thing, but here we are, 7:15 in the morning, the sun is the up (although not shining – overcast today) and has been up for about 45 minutes, and the crickets are chirping away.  And I can hear them because the windows are open!

They really do make a lot of noise.

I believe I’ve made my opinion of Marley and Me (book and movie) known.  Actually, now that I’ve done a quick search of my archives, maybe I haven’t.  I didn’t like it.  Not even a little.  Train your damn dog!  I’m all for funny dog/animal stories, really I am, but when all the scenes that are supposed to be funny are based on the fact that the dog is out of control because his owner NEVER TRAINED HIM, I start to get really annoyed.  I’ve read a couple of other books about dogs or “by” dogs (Edgar Sawtelle, some book about a dog who helps his owner solve his wife’s murder, another book about a guy who gets a herding dog and quits every time he starts training ’cause it’s too hard – whiner, etc), and they generally aren’t my favorites.  I’m not entirely sure why I keep trying, but I’ve heard only good things about The Art of Racing in the Rain, so when I saw it on the bookshelf last weekend, I asked Emily if I could borrow it.  I started it yesterday, and so far, I’m happier than expected (given my history with dog books).  It’s not about the dog, it’s about the family.  Told from the point of view of the dog.  That makes it a little twee, but it’s not stopping me from getting involved with the characters.  To the point where I get mad (and maybe yell a little) when bad stuff happens to the poor guy.  So…I like it?  I’ll let you know.  If I had to say right now, I’d say it’s not one of my favorites, but if someone asked me if they should read it, I’d probably say yes.  Couldn’t hurt.  Won’t make you dumber. 

It does make me wonder if Roxy and Riley really understand every word I say.  If they do, I should be a little more careful…

1. Both dogs are pretty good in the car.  It helps that it’s only a three-hour drive.
2. Roxy can’t be trusted off her leash when there’s no fence.
3. Riley can.
4. Except when Roxy takes off.  Then he goes with her and loses his hearing.
5. Roxy is great in the house and with other dogs, mostly because she’s totally indifferent to everybody.
6. Riley is a challenge in the house.  Not the greatest houseguest.
7. That’s putting it politely.  He was nervous and Mabel (the resident dog) thought he was challenging her authority (he probably was).
8. Then he peed on the sliding glass door.  From the outside (small miracles).  In front of everyone.

John and I went to visit his parents this weekend.  Normally, we wouldn’t have brought the dogs, but I forgot about this trip until last weekend, and by then, the kennel was fully booked.  So it was either stay home with the dogs (we can’t use a pet-sitter anymore) and have John go by himself (the point of the trip was so  he (and his brother, coming from Connecticut) could help his dad do some car stuff) or figure out how to handle the complications of bringing the dogs.

Complication #1: John’s parents have a dog who, the one time they met, didn’t get along all that well with Riley.  We think it might be because they first sniffed each other out in the kitchen, Riley’s territory, and not somewhere slightly more neutral, like the yard.

Complication #2: No fence.  They have an invisible fence, and while Mabel has a collar and is trained to it, our dogs are not.

Complication #3: We needed a secure place to lock Roxy up if we all went out so she’d be separated from the other dogs and unable to hurt herself if she were to have a seizure.

Complication #4: Is it really okay if we bring the dogs?  I don’t want to force our animals into anyone else’s household.

All of these issues have solutions (say hello in the yard, keep them on their leashes, use Mabel’s old crate, be direct and ask the question), and after I talked with my mother-in-law, I felt better about most of them, so we decided to try it (obviously).  We’re not in any hurry to do it again, but at least we know it’s possible.  I think Mabel was happy to see us go.    I know Roxy and Riley are happy to be back home.

Update: Apparently, Roxy was SO happy to be home she went into convulsions.  Just one seizure, it’s been about two and half weeks since the last one, and I’m relieved she waited until we got home to do it.  I can only imagine having to deal with this on the side of the road with a frantic Riley.  She’s in the last stages of getting back to normal right now.

John and I tried an experiment with Roxy today.  We had her outside, no fence, on a leash.  We showed her (and gave her) cheese and regular dog treats and basically tried to convince her that hanging out with us is the best thing in the world.  Riley had already proven that he could be trusted off the leash and would come tearing back towards us if we called.  It was Roxy’s turn, so I unclipped her leash.  For about a minute, she stayed right by us, eating cheese and dog treats, but her normal greed wasn’t as strong as the pull of all that freedom.  She took off, with Riley right behind her, and me and John chasing after with the leash and the treats, calling her name and basically just trying to keep her in sight.  We did eventually get her (only about two minutes later – felt longer), but we’ve learned our lesson.  LOTS more training before we try that again.  If ever.  She might just be a runner.

Why have I been having such a hard time writing lately?  I’d like to blame it on not having much free time, and spending what free time I have reading (although I haven’t been doing much of that), or…honestly, I don’t know what I’ve been doing in the evenings.  Making dinner, eating it while watching some show with John, and then what?  Cleaning up and going to bed? Writing a short paragraph here and then quitting for the night?  The only time I’ve spent reading is before sleep and over breakfast.

Wah wah wah.  Stop whining already.

I took the dogs on my hill workout this morning and let them drag me up the first two.  By the third one, I was dragging them.  You know how, when a dog steps over the leash so just one leg is on the wrong side, they’ll sometimes do a little hop to get free?  Roxy’s pretty good at that, but this morning she managed to get the leash wrapped around her leg, not just crossed under.  She tried to hop out of it a couple of times and when she figured out that it wasn’t going to be that easy, she stopped and picked her little paw off the ground and held it out to me.  SO cute.

Somehow, that reminded me that we need to renew our passports soon.  Can’t believe it’ll be ten years this November.  Must mean I’m getting old.  That’s getting a little close to whining again.  Time to quit.

Today, we took Step One in the Cancel the Cable Already! Plan.  Actually, we took Step 1 a few days ago when we ordered the Roku.  It arrived today, we set it up, we’ve tested it out, and tonight we’re going to watch a movie.  How exactly does this help us in the Cancel the Cable Already! Plan?  Um…I won’t be DVRing movies from Comcast anymore.  It doesn’t help with current TV, either.  Really, I think it’s a mindset change.  We have a Roku!  Next step is to put together a nice-looking, unobtrusive computer that can live near the TV and provide the link to the internet.  Soon.

Speaking of the internet, we had to go to our local Comcast office this morning to pick up a new modem.  That fixed our connection problem.  I’m so relieved.  I didn’t want to have to wait until Monday night for a technician to show up (or not show up) and then tell us they can’t fix our problem (which is what they were saying on the phone last night).

A little housekeeping, figuratively speaking: Roxy had four seizures in 15 minutes Thursday night (late, of course).  The vet probably considers that one seizure.  She hasn’t had any since then, so technically, I think it doesn’t count as a cluster.  She desperately needed a bath after that, so I brushed 2 tons of hair of her (the furminator is awesome), and then gave her a bath on the deck this afternoon.  She’s all clean and sparkly now.

Some literal housekeeping: I helped John sort and clean out a big part of the basement today.  We boxed up all of our inventory books and stacked them in a corner, got rid of some trash, put a few more things aside for donation, and rearranged the whole east side, giving the band more room in their corner and making it easier for John to get to his weight bench.  More importantly, John used the shop vac to get rid of a lot of dust and a TON of dog hair.  The basement looks a whole lot better, unfinished as it is, when it’s not coated in dog hair.  I could say that about everything, I think.  Except dogs.

I’m home, but I seem to have misplaced my brain.  I left the house this morning to go to Wegman’s and then pick up the dogs from the kennel, and I didn’t want to carry my purse, so I loaded my pockets with the essentials: grocery list, cell phone, keys.  Notice anything missing?  I didn’t, not until I was in the checkout line with half of the groceries already bagged and in the cart.  I reached into my pocket for my wallet, and hey!  Not there.  Not even in the car.  The checkout girl was super nice (she said it happens all the time), and she told me she’d finish ringing everything up, suspend the sale, and leave the groceries for me at the customer service desk.  I still felt like an idiot.  So I raced home (not too quickly, though – the last thing I needed was to get pulled over for speeding and then have to say, “Why, no, Officer, I don’t have my license with me…can I explain?”), grabbed my wallet, raced back to Wegman’s, and then stood in front of the customer service desk for over five minutes while the woman behind the counter discussed her personal problems with someone on the phone.  I rescued my groceries and went to pick up the dogs, both of whom said hi to random strangers in the lobby of the kennel before bothering to give me a hello sniff.  Ungrateful animals.  Who I am SO happy to be home with.  (Roxy had a seizure while at the kennel Monday afternoon, so they moved her to the vet side for observation until today.  She’s fine.)

I’m wearing my glasses today instead of my contacts, and my eyes have been sending signals to the sleep centers of my brain for hours now (“No contacts! That means it’s bed time.  You’re getting very sleepy…”), but I’m fighting the urge to nap.  It’s too late in the day for that.  Perfect time for a walk, though.

John and I took the dogs for a walk this evening, and while we were out, we bumped into a couple with their small son (between 2 and 3, I think).  We slowed down to let him say hi to the dogs, and as I reeled Roxy in, his mother said not to worry about her, they have a big labradoodle at home.  The kid said, “Yeah, I have a big waterdoodle at home,” and he walked right up to Roxy and wrapped his arms around her neck in a gentle hug.  Then he planted a big kiss right on the tip of her nose and toddled off.  Seriously cute.  He wasn’t even a little bit afraid of a dog as tall as he was.  He didn’t seem to notice Riley, who was probably closer in size to his waterdoodle.

It’s the end of the weekend.  I hate that.  John and I were talking this morning about how the conventional life (9-5 jobs, living for the weekends, tiny suburban house with neighbors we don’t know right on top of us) isn’t really working for us.  We want something different (set our own hours, work for ourselves doing something we like, live further away from people), but what if something different doesn’t work?  So we’re talking about it.

It rained all night last night.  A welcome change, and really soothing to fall asleep to (several times, since I woke up a few times last night).  We woke up at 7 this morning to find it still pouring, so running was out of the question.  We found ourselves breakfasted and in the basement before 9am, and we spent a good hour making some donation and trash decisions.  We’re not done getting rid of the crap in the basement, not by a long shot, but we made a sizable dent.  (That looks weird.  Sizable.  Sizeable?  Still weird.)  Around 10:30, I went to Costco for Roxy’s medicine and then to Target (yeah, I know – again), and I was supposed to be home before noon so we could leave at noon to meet Erik and Margaret for lunch and a movie.  Well, you know how Target is.  I got sucked in, and it was almost noon when I got in the car to come home and get John.  So we were late.  I hate being late, but this time I can’t blame anyone by myself (sorry again, guys!).  It didn’t help that I got off the toll road going the wrong way on 7 and had to turn around and THEN wade through the normal traffic in the area.  Lunch (at Maggiano’s) was good, but it was more about catching up with E&M, who we hadn’t seen since mid-May, and that was much-needed and much fun.  After the movie (Knight and Day – the first half was funny and pretty entertaining.  The second half was okay, but less fun.), I bought a new wallet (a nice red, big, adult-type wallet to replace my falling-apart, overstuffed, tiny little wallet that gets lost in my purse and was meant to only hold the bare necessities but got drafted into full-time use because I don’t know why), and we came home, checked on the dogs (they’re fine), and did geeky website things together (I updated my Pages section.  See?).  Tomorrow might not be so productive, but you never know.

I wore the dogs out today.  We went for a two-mile walk around mid-morning and they came inside acting like I’d asked them to run a marathon, and this evening I brought them to the block party where John’s band was playing.  Roxy laid down at the end of her leash and pretended we weren’t there, as usual, but Riley got a little nervous and spent the whole time trying to crawl into my lap.  While drooling.  He was mostly okay as long as I had my hands on him, but heaven forbid I let go so I could clap for the band (who did really well – John was awesome during “All Along the Watchtower”).

We’ve never really made a big deal out of the 4th of July.  I think we’re too lazy.  A couple or three years ago, we had some people over and played with sparklers, but that hardly took any effort.  Last year, we tagged along with other people’s plans and spent the afternoon at the pool and watched the fireworks in Falls Church (really good fireworks).  This year we had tentative plans to do that again, but then the band got a gig, and that ended up taking up pretty much the whole day.

Tomorrow will be all about trying to keep cool.  It’s supposed to get ridiculously hot, but I don’t have to do anything that’ll keep me outside.  I think I can safely skip running.

Roxy is fine.  Thought I’d start with that, since that’s pretty much how John started a phone call to me late at night on the first Monday I was in Rhode Island.  That’s two weeks ago now.  John got home from work that night and everything was fine.  He went out to rehearsal at Will’s place just before seven and got back right around ten.  He said both dogs met him at the door, as usual, wagging their tails and looking stupidly happy, as usual.  But Roxy was soaking wet all around her neck.  And then he saw this:

And this:

\

And lots more.  Those two pictures are of opposite corners of the first floor of our house.  There was blood EVERYwhere.  It was on the dishwasher, the blinds, the walls, all over the floor, the couch, and, of course, the dog.  Who was fine (and not really bleeding anymore).  John spent a couple of hours cleaning up, and then he brought Roxy upstairs to sleep and left Riley downstairs.  Roxy spent all of Tuesday at the vet, who didn’t have much to say.  She had a shallow gash along her shoulder, which apparently bleeds like a scalp wound would on a person.  As far as we can tell, Roxy had a seizure while John was a rehearsal and Riley did his crazy holding her down thing and in all the thrashing around, managed to scrape her shoulder.  Blood flew during the seizure, I’d imagine, and then Roxy did her recovery thing, which consists of her wandering aimlessly around the first floor, rubbing on everything and bumping into every hard surface.  This time, she tracked (and rubbed) blood all over everything within reach.

She really is fine.  John said she wasn’t bleeding anymore by the time he got her into the bathtub.  The vet didn’t even have to shave her.  We realized we can’t leave the two of them loose in the house when we’re not home after this, and so we can’t use the pet-sitting service anymore.  We can crate them while we’re at work or when we go out, but if we’re out of town, we can’t crate them all day and all night except for the three hours a day the pet-sitter is visiting.  Maybe if we had a house-sitter…  Luckily, the kennel had an opening (two – they have to be boarded in separate runs now, too) for the RI trip, so John left them there Wednesday morning and came to see me Wednesday night.

While I’m documenting seizures, she had that one Monday night two weeks ago (6/14), another short one the following Tuesday night (6/15), and she had one yesterday around noon (6/27).  Short, we were home, no big deal.  Every person who answers the phone at our vet’s office knows who we are.  I called this morning to update her file with yesterday’s seizure, and all I had to do was say just that: “This is Susannah, and I’m calling to update Roxy’s chart.”  They used to have to ask for my last name, my phone number, all that stuff, but not anymore.  On a positive note, two weeks ago she only had two seizures in a row, 24 hours apart instead of 12.  This time, she had one yesterday around noon and hadn’t had another one by the time I left for work this morning.  She seems to have broken the three-in-a-row-12-hours-apart pattern.  Yay!

My neighborhood was Grand Central Station for bunnies this morning.  I’d forgotten about that aspect of spring, so when I took the dogs for a run this morning (for the first time in more than two months, I think), I wasn’t prepared for their reaction.  Nearly got my arms yanked off.  Over and over and over again.

I am looking forward to tomorrow.  Very much.  I asked for the day off a couple of weeks ago, just because (and also because I thought I’d need the escape since I was convinced I would be less than a month from unemployment by this week), and earlier this week I thought about not taking the day off and just going to work anyway, but then my boss reminded me that this was meant to be an easy week for us trainers (to give us a break from all the stressful traveling) and I don’t have anything to do, so why not take it?  I saw her point.  So now I have plans for tomorrow.  Plans to run, to get a mani/pedi, to get my very first ever massage, and to buy a new suitcase.  Almost in that order.  I need a new suitcase…do I?  Well, yeah, I do.  The one I’ve been using (big, rectangular, purple, on wheels) is coming apart at the seams.  I have another rolling bag, but it’s more of a rolling duffel and I have to travel with some stuff for work that wouldn’t fit very well in that.  I could borrow John’s (and I will if I don’t find something pretty easily tomorrow), but eventually, I’ll need one of my own.  I’m putting too much thought into this.

Hamburgers tonight!

Okay, we finished Lost.  The whole thing was worth it for Sun/Jin and Sawyer/Juliet.  I cried at both.  We also saw the new Robin Hood movie today (stupid, but fun).  And we started catching up on Glee.  Lots of TV today.  But that’s not all we did.  We mowed, weeded, mulched, and pruned, and after that, we went to Borders.  Busy day.

I gave the dogs a little bit of leftover turkey from my sandwich (Wegman’s sub – SO good), and they’re drooling at (and on) my heels now.  They’re not letting me out of their sight in case I have more goodies in my pockets.  Smart dogs.

Because my boss can be pretty cool sometimes, I didn’t have to go to work today.  I had a long long list of things I could/should do, and I had great plans to do them.  And then I didn’t.  Well, I did a few of them.  Actually, I did nine out of nineteen, and to be fair to me, some of those things were meant for later in the weekend.  Okay, I did plenty today.  But I didn’t run and I didn’t go to the grocery store and I kept my out-of-the-house errands to a minimum because Roxy had a “welcome home” seizure last night before midnight and another one this morning, shortly before noon.  She’s fine now, but somewhat groggy (we’re under instructions to give her extra medicine after seizures to help prevent clusters – clearly didn’t work last night – and that makes her woozy), so I thought it would be best if I stayed close to home.

One of the few errands I did run today took me to Home Depot.  John needed grass seed, and while I was there, I bought a rosemary plant and an oregano plant ’cause MY FACE POTS WERE DELIVERED!  Yay!  And I already have a basil plant, so I’ll put all three into my new pots and put them…somewhere…to grow.  The deck, maybe?  I could put them on a plant stand on the front porch (if I had a plant stand.  I think I just added that to my shopping list for the weekend.).  I definitely can’t put them anywhere in the yard.  The rabbits will get them.  Like they’ve already eaten the three (maybe it was four) black-eyed susan plants that came back this year.  I need plants rabbits don’t like.

I’m home, but only for two days.  Almost exactly.  And I’ve spent the afternoon so far trying not to melt into a puddle of tears.  I’m SO tired, so completely worn out, that it’s all I can do to keep my eyes open.  (And, of course, I don’t want to go away again!  Not so soon, not at all…)  I made it to Wegman’s, but really only to pick up easy stuff for dinner tonight.  I need to start laundry so I’ll have clean clothes to repack for Sunday, but that sounds like too much work right now.  The dogs seemed pretty happy to see me.  Riley actually jumped up on me, front paws on my shoulders, the better to stick his nose in my face.  Apparently, I wasn’t leaning down to say hello fast enough.  Roxy, with her cute little red bandage from where the vet stuck the IV needle, has been following me around the house and settling on the floor near my feet whenever I stop.  I’d take a picture, but that would take effort.

I just watched the “Brown Betty” episode of Fringe.  There was a detective story (noir, but with a few touches of futuristic technology – cool combination), singing, and Peter and Olivia almost/kinda falling in love, all in the guise of a story told to a little girl…I think I really like Joshua Jackson.

John stayed home with Roxy today.  No seizures.  She napped the day away.  I wish I could be home.  But it’s Wednesday night already (isn’t it?  I can’t tell.), and I only have one more work day to go.

Forgive me, Internet, for quitting now.  I haven’t been sleeping well in this hotel bed (I think I hate the pillows – too squishy), I haven’t gone for a run in I don’t know how many days, and I’m really tired.

John left Roxy with the vet for observation today, and she had another couple of seizures this afternoon.  When I last talked to John, he was racing out of the office to get there before the doctor left so he could talk to her about Roxy.  I just finished putting together a list with dates and details of all the seizures she’s had in the last year and a half.  It’s a long list.  John is more and more convinced that Riley isn’t being a nice doggie when he goes after her neck with his teeth (or “holds her down with the only tools he has at his disposal so she won’t hurt herself.”  However you like to look at it).  He might be trying to kill the demon that’s taken over his darling Roxy.  I’m waiting by the phone for John to call, either from the vet or when he gets home.  And I’m hungry, so I’m going to eat while I wait.  Nothing particularly entertaining is coming to mind, so I’ll just go away and fret.  And eat.

Update: John is home with both dogs, and Roxy’s doing okay for now.  John has extra medicine and instructions on what to do if she has more seizures in the next couple of days.  He’s going to try to work from home tomorrow so he can keep an eye on her.  I feel better after talking to him (and after eating), and then I went to The “Blog” of “Unnecessary” Quotation Marks and couldn’t stop giggling.  On to Passive Aggressive Notes for more giggling.  Hire taller staff!

And here: this sounds like a huge undertaking, but it would probably end up being the only cookbook anyone who isn’t already a brilliant chef would ever use again.  Too bad no one is working on it.

I would still call DisneyWorld the happiest place on earth (me and fifteen trillion of my closest friends), but I think the Coke museum in Atlanta (now The World of Coca-Cola) is the happiest place in Georgia.  (Ask me again after I go to the aquarium.)  I love Coke.  Me and Coke are buddies.  We like to hang out.

My class got out a little earlier than expected, so I headed out of the windowless training room on the 9th floor (windowless, yes, but NOT in a basement – big improvement) hoping to go for a run.  I got off the elevator to cloudy skies, but I was still hopeful.  Cloudy just means it’ll be cooler without the sun beating down on me.   Then I got outside.  Raining.  Hard.  Annoyed.  (Me, not the rain, although who knows?)  Then I had a brilliant idea.  I’m in Atlanta, it’s only 4pm, it’s raining, and I’m mere blocks away from a shrine to the only soft drink worthy of the name.  So I went – by myself – and joined a tour group and spent a very enjoyable couple of hours looking at all the Coke stuff, watching the videos, watching a ton of Coke commercials, and tasting many (not nearly all) of the really disgusting Coke products they manage to sell around the world.  On my way out (funneled, of course, through the gift shop, where I showed admirable restraint and did NOT buy myself a t-shirt), they handed me a Coke. 

In sadder news, Roxy had a seizure this morning.  John said it was a cluster seizure, and she was in the middle of it when he came back in from his morning run.  Riley had done his holding her down thing, there was hair everywhere, and he’d slobbered all over her neck.  (No blood.)  John talked to our vet this afternoon, and she apparently jumped to the conclusion that the new medicine isn’t working and that Roxy needs an MRI (costs at least $1000 according to her (the vet, not Roxy)).  I’m not sure why she (the vet) went there so quickly, though.  Roxy’s only been on the new meds for a month and off the old meds for only three weeks, and in that time she’s had basically two episodes.  That sounds pretty promising to me.  So we’re going to ignore the vet for the time being.  (That’s a strange phrase.  Time being.  I’m sure I’ve said it before, but I don’t think I’ve ever written it down.  Looks too weird.)

It got late before I realized it, and I haven’t eaten dinner yet, so I’m out of here.

Updated to add Roxy’s second set of seizures for the day.  Three this time.  John may be leaving her with the vet for observation tomorrow, since he can’t stay home with her.