Arrivals & Departures

I have reached my destination . . . well, almost. After a busy morning of last minute packing and cleaning, I hopped in my car and drove the 100 plus miles to Midway. Once I found a parking space (not an easy feat even following the shuttle) I got on the aforementioned shuttle for the quick trip to the airport. Frankly, I don't think I could have survived a longer trip as I had been crossing my legs the last 30 miles of drive. Once in the airport and relieved of my morning coffee I checked my bags and waited. I find airport waiting to be among the worst. You're either anticipating a vacation or dreading going home. Or maybe you're waiting for a loved one (or there is the dreadful 5 hour wait for your charter bus home when you have the stomach flu). No matter what the circumstances airport waiting is a drag. I nearly finish my magazine while sitting on the floor (the joy of
waiting for a Southwest flight) before we finally get to board. Of course it's a full flight and I am sitting next to a child. Yippee. My consolation is the flight is short and the child is probably 5. We sit at the gate at least 15 minutes (more waiting) and finally taxi to the runway. As we sit in line to take off, the captain explains a bag has been left on the plane by a previous passener and we're GOING BACK to get it to him or her. Excuse me? My luggage has failed to arrive with me on countless occasions but delivery means the next day if I'm lucky! (So mobile blogs have limits.)

iPod Pondering

An iPod is truly a wonderful thing.

I have spent the past day and half downloading most of my music library on this little gadget (and my laptop) and when I am finished, I will most likely not have filled half of its memory.

It's not that I have a LOT of music, but I began collecting CDs back when they "replaced" vinyl and I was crazy enough to join BMG. So I have a decent collection of mostly older music. I'll admit, I've really enjoyed listening to some I haven't listened to in a long time. Music carries many memories. And it makes me happy to be able to carry it with me anywhere.

When I lived in DC, I had my iPod with me all the time. I took it almost everywhere with me (it's especially nice to have on the Metro). When I moved out to the cornfields, it sat at home a lot. But since putting all of my music on it, that's about to change. It's a wonderful thing.

But an iPod can be dangerous, too. You start checking things out in the iTunes store and suddenly you're wanting to spend your life's savings on music!

For example, a few nights ago I saw my boyfriend (Bon Jovi for those who are not in the know) UnPlugged on TV and was so thrilled I ran right to iTunes to see if the concert had been recorded. Well, it had not (at least that I could find), but the new album is out and it took all of my will power to keep from buying it on the spot. I am quite certain I am going to break down and buy it before my trip . . . in 3 days. I just can't resist. I mean, he is my boyfriend after all - not to mention the sexiest man on the planet!

And then there is all the other new music out there. There are a few radio stations I listen to online that feature new music. Well, all I can think of is I MUST get it for my iPod! Seriously, dangerous stuff.

I bought my iPod used from a friend. Though our tastes in music differ, she had a TON of stuff on the iPod already that I liked and I refrained from adding to it for the danger listed above for about two years. Now that I have reconfigured it for my computer, I lost all of her music and I miss a LOT of it! So I've asked another friend who has similar tastes if I can borrow her CDs to download at some point, but that won't cover the Podcasts and hundreds of other songs I'll miss. So I've already started searching on iTunes for the missing music.

Where is the money coming from that's going to pay for all this????

SIGH. I suppose this is where I need to prioritize. Obviously, my boyfriend's music comes first! After that, I suppose I'll just have to add to it here and there. Until I win the lottery anyway.

Or until I get an iTunes gift card!

Mobile Blogging

I've discoved mobile blogging . . . which means I'm probably behind the times and my age is showing but I don't care! I'll be able to continue to blog with my cell phone while I'm away on vacation. It'll be like sending postcards via phone. Fun!

So bear with me as I catch up to my technology! It'll be an experiment to say the least.

Lonely Road

This morning I ran a maintenance run without Zoe for the first time.

It was pretty lonely . . . at the start anyway.

Without Zoe and her distractions, it's just me out there . . . my only company being the sound of my feet hitting the pavement and my little Gremlin yammering away.

As I've mentioned before in this blog, that Gremlin can often be nasty and hard to shut up. But as I ran along, my thoughts about how lonely I am out there began to turn around.

I started thinking about those who have helped me get where I am in this process - either financially or emotionally or both.

My family is really terrific about supporting me. My mom and dad have been to almost all of my races and contribute many dollars on my behalf. Sadly they can't be in Chicago this time, but I know they'll be thinking of me. There have been times I've had to "make-up" some miles when visiting my parents and my father has hopped on his bike and kept me company. I can't count the number of times he's figured mileage out for me in their hometown!

My siblings and their families have been terrific, too. My brother and nephew run with me at the beach, during Thanksgiving, or Christmas if we're together. And my brother and sister have been very generous donating in the past, too.

There's Absolut #2 (remember him?) - he gave me my first pair of running shoes to marathon train in 7 years ago. Regardless of the circumstances surrounding the shoes (it's part of that long story) I am so grateful for those shoes! And he continues to donate money to this day.

Of course there are my friends from Galloway Group and Team Tegla. They helped me reach the finish line my first marathon and my last.

And I can't forget The Lawyer, my dear friend from Galloway Group who trained with me for all the marathons in-between the first and last. Where would I be without him?

My old Housemate helped me throw a kickin' Luau to fund raise on one of the HOTTEST days of the summer. And she cooked and decorated all day for me. AMAZING. And of course so many great friends came to that Luau and parted with their hard-earned money.

There are the women from the acting class I used to teach who continue to support me with e-mails and checks. They say I inspire them, but really they inspire me.

Ah yes, don't underestimate the power of an e-mail. I got an e-mail from an old Folger colleague not long ago who generously donated some money. After receiving a thank you note from me, she e-mailed me to THANK ME. Huh? As it turns out, both of her parents battled blood cancers - her father sadly lost his battle, but her mother beat it and is with us to this day. I got the names of her parents and made a little mantra of them I could chant as I run. It helped me today as a matter of fact.

Another friend sent me this article explaining it was why she didn't run. It made me laugh (yes, I have a sick sense of humor - and that woman MUST have been a trophy hunter in a previous life) and realize how lucky I've been with my running. Never had a collision with a deer or anything else - not even a bike on a busy trail. But I've seen a lot of deer and other wildlife along my routes.

And then there are those who keep up with this blog . . . and comment along the way. Those comments make me laugh and smile and remind me how many people are rooting for me.

And finally there are those who actually make it to the race and root in person. I've had friends surprise me along the way (I know I've written about it, but bear with me as I remind all of you and myself). There's PhD-to-be who not only showed up to cheer me on one race, but actually stepped onto the route on my command and walked with me a short way. Then there's the Acupuncturist and ER Doc (married friends of mine) who, after nearly finishing an entire race without a friendly face along the way, shout at me 100 yards from the finish line and then run me in. What a thrill. And the World Traveler stomped part way up Capitol Hill in boots to support me. Each time I'm inspired by these people.

And finally, there are the Hula Ladies who really go the distance. They went all the way to Honolulu with me . . . and cheered me on at several points in the race. Some would say it wasn't much of a sacrifice, but I disagree. It meant spending hard-earned money and vacation time to spend a day cheering for me. These are women who could go ANYWHERE with their time and money and they CHOSE to go with me.

And they are doing it AGAIN.

Yes, they are meeting me in the Windy City to once again, support me and my crazy endeavor. How blessed am I?

So, I may miss the company of my faithful canine companion, but I have the company of all of my friends and supporters (all of YOU) to boost me up. And in the end, the road isn't lonely at all.

Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head

This morning I ran eight miles . . . in the pouring rain.

I admit, I usually like running in the rain during the summer. It keeps me cool and makes the longer runs a little more comfortable.

Today was different though.

We changed our start time to 6AM which will be very helpful in the heat, but felt REALLY early this morning. I was up around 4AM to use the bathroom (I am working on making sure I am well-hydrated before a run, but it has its drawbacks) and then went back to sleep. Fortunately, Henry's appetite was fierce enough that he decided to walk on my head at 5:20AM. I shot out of bed and had to bust my butt to get Zoe walked, all animals fed, myself fed, dressed to run, and out the door by 5:45. Ugh. It wasn't easy, but I miraculously managed.

Needless to say I was still a little groggy when I got the the Amtrak Station. The rain I felt walking to our meeting spot helped a bit. The skies opening up as we waited for some stragglers helped a lot.

We ran for cover until the others arrived and chatted about the run ahead. By the time the others showed up, the worst of the heavy rain was over - or so we hoped. I was surprised by our numbers considering it was raining a bit. Coaches P & T were there, my friend Butter Hancock (still makes me chuckle), the Youngster (a woman who is maybe 25), the Mentor (our Team mentor), the Husband and Wife (our latecomers), Mustache (you can figure that one out), the other Redhead, and the Caboose (she called herself that, not me). At 6:15 our merry band was off and running.

Surprisingly, I'm usually up toward the front of the pack. This morning however, I could still feel the speed work from Thursday night and lagged behind a little. Even Coach T noticed. He said I sounded tired. Huh. Was I running heavy? Breathing heavy? I don't know but I admitted I felt a little tired. Nonetheless, I was putting one foot in front of the other and enjoying the light rain. It wasn't long until I was running with Coach T and the Youngster ahead of the rest.

Shortly after our first water stop, it started raining harder and Coach T said we needed to form a synchronized running team we were so wet. I lamely joked I needed a nose-plug for that and on we ran. The Youngster only stopped at the second stop to store her iPod in the water bin (yeah, electronics and rain don't mix) and she ran ahead. I sipped a little Powerade and took off behind her, just wanting to get the run done. Coach T stayed behind to run with some others.

It was about then it started to rain like mad. I mean crazy rain. You've heard the description of it raining UP, right? Yeah, that kind of rain. Soaking, serious, wring-your-shirt-out wet. I could hardly see for all the rain coming down. I could hear the shouts of either joy or agony behind me and all I could do was go forward.

I hit an underpass on the trail and there was the Youngster . . . waiting. She just wanted the company, and I was thankful for it as well. As we ran, we chatted above the sound of the rain and our splashing. Neither one of us was pleased with the change in the rain or in the weight of our shoes. It felt like we were carrying 5 pounds of water on each foot. As fun as it is when you're a little kid, the squishing is pretty grim as an adult.

We decided to skip water stop three and hit it after the turn-around. Remember my entry on running eight miles a couple of weeks ago? Remember how I said I didn't think it was a full eight miles. Well, as it turns out I was RIGHT and Coach P was WRONG and to my dismay he made the correction today. So I haven't gotten faster . . . and we had to run the entire distance today. Turns out there's a flagpole you need to get to before you can turn around. SIGH.

Anyway, we didn't know where that flagpole was, so as we crossed Airport Road, we looked back and signaled to the fuzzy Coach T we didn't know where to go. He sprinted up to us and helped us find the landmark (easy to spot once you get on top of it) and we cheered quietly as we turned around. We had made it half-way.

Coach T ran with us back to the water stop, but the half-marathoners were going 10 miles so he joined up with them and continued on. The Youngster and I had a brief respite from the rain onslaught under cover at the water stop and then took a deep breath and started to run again. As it turns out, it's the Youngster's first full marathon (she did the Indy Half not long ago) and so we chatted about her projected time and all. We have similar time goals and similar paces so I found out!

We continued on this way . . . complaining, chatting, and chuckling. Before I knew it, we were at the final water stop and the rain FINALLY lightened up. And not a moment too soon, because I was having trouble keeping my body temperature up (me? cold?) and my legs were getting very stiff. THIS is what I hate about running in the rain. If it gets too cold, then I'm in big trouble.

In spite of the rain and cold, we rain the eight no slower than I usually run it. We checked our names off the list (the Coaches like to keep track of everybody which is a really good thing) and chatted under cover with the Mentor and our new TNT Coordinator, but not for long. My hands and legs were turning blue and I was miserable.

When I got home, I got into the HOT HOT HOT shower and about 30 minutes later felt a little more like myself. I always marvel how we can run 8 miles and shower before most get out of bed on a Saturday! I didn't make it to the Farmer's Market though.

It has been raining most of the day. I know we need it and I'm happy for it. Well, now that I'm all cozy in my study with Cats N Jammer by my side. I have had enough raindrops on my head for one day, thank you.

Rest Day

Today is a rest day.

Ever since I started running marathons I've believed in rest days because my body made it very clear they were important: my knees or hips would ache, I would have trouble waking up, my legs would feel heavy. This morning I felt all of the above.

I am beginning to understand, too, how mixing up your training can help you. Last night was another speed workout and instead of just running around the track in circles all evening, we hit the football field for some drills. This wasn't our first time doing drills - we did some stride work at the end of the session last week. But Coach P likes to keep us on our toes, sometimes literally, so we started the session with a couple of new drills. I don't know what you would call them, so I'll try to describe them instead. The first set was like skipping - in fact it WAS skipping - only you had to get your knees as high as possible as you went. When Coach T gave us an example, we all laughed (mostly because he added this absurd arm thing with it - like he was flapping his arms - but also because it looks kind of silly as it is). After several times across the football field we weren't laughing anymore. Then we had to run but try to kick our butts as we went. By the time we finished those my legs were like lead. At least we had some fun along the way.

Our speed training group is a very small group of regulars and we're starting to feel comfortable around each other and joke and make the workouts fun. Last night was all about our porn names and the like. J, a fellow I've mentioned before in here, ended up with the name Butter Hancock and I thought I was going to pee my pants I was laughing so hard. Well, things just got sillier from there and J started singing 80's music that fit the drill . . . you can only imagine how hard it is to run drills while giggling.

Then we got to do our speed workout - lots of running around in circles. I actually found it EASIER this time! I'm taking that as a good sign.

I was also able to shake up the workout by running mostly with Coach T. He's a NUT - and is really good at pushing me. We ran out to the track together and he made me join him in running around the track until the others had arrived. When he ran the sprints with me, he stayed right with me but made sure I never let up my pace and picked it up at the end. When we ran back to the Amtrak station (our meeting place for all workouts), I again ran with him and he had me run a little hill here or there along the way. I felt tired, but really good when we finished.

And today I REST, thank heavens!

Well, rest is a relative term of course and Zoe took me for a marathon walk this morning. I think ultimately that was good though, get those sore muscles moving again.

Tomorrow is a cut back day - we're only running eight miles and if the weather is anything like today, it will be perfect running weather - cloudy and cool.

And Sunday will be another rest day. If only I actually had a hammock.

Retirement Debate

I am once again forced to consider retiring Zoe from running. Or at least from running my training maintenance runs.

It's not an easy decision for me . . . mostly because I can't separate how I FEEL from the FACTS. Zoe's my girl and has helped me train for six marathons. In her prime, she ran as far as 15 miles with me and finished with enough energy to engage me in a game of tug-of-war with her leash. In fact, she probably ran way more than 15 miles 'cause she'd jump in and out of the canal (C & O Canal in DC) to swim, run ahead and then run back, and chase wildlife. I just can't imagine not having her by my side as I train again.

But this morning it seemed very apparent that the time has come. Not because she stopped running or anything dramatic, but because I was feeling held back by her. She just doesn't run with any speed anymore and though I'm hardly FAST, I am faster than she is. Even when I let her off leash, I'm the one that runs ahead and then has to run back to make sure she's okay. It's like we've traded places.

Like or not, she's getting older. She'll be 10 in less than a month and that's getting up there for a lab. I really believe the running helps keep her weight down and keeps her limber and strong, but she just isn't able to do the distance and speed she used to do.

Of course, retiring her really complicates my schedule. It means I'll have to walk her on my running days and that means getting up an hour earlier to get it done. While that's not so bad right now, when I have nothing but time on my hands, come fall it will be killer.

And I can't help but wonder if there isn't something else going on. Her mother, my brother's lab, had hypothyroidism and Zoe has some of the signs . . . but not all. I suppose at her next visit to the vet we should get her tested for it. SIGH.

So what do I do in the meantime? Does she run or not? I suppose I could take her for a shorter run that swings back to the house and then finish my miles or time on my own. But is it worth it - or is it enough?

And since I'm tired of fighting with myself, I'd like to hear others join the debate!

A Regular Practice

It has been a long time since I've been able to practice yoga regularly. When I was able to practice at least once a week, I felt better physical and emotionally. I was strong, limber, and grounded.

My best marathon times were in a year when I was enjoying a regular yoga practice.

Well, now that it's summer, I decided to take the plunge and get back into the yoga routine.

Shortly after moving here, I spent a Saturday exploring downtown and found Main Street Yoga. To my surprise and joy, it is a Kripalu Studio which is the form of yoga I studied while in DC (except for my brief venture into Hot Yoga). I am a big fan of Kripalu and hoped I could make a class a part of my new schedule in my new hometown.

Alas! It wasn't to be due to my incredible teaching load and subsequent pursuit of my Alexander Technique Certification (more on THAT later, I'm sure). But I kept my little flyer with the class schedule just the same and posted in a prominent place so I might remind myself how much I could benefit from a return to it.

So now that I have "nothing to do," I made the decision to do this! And I am so happy!

I am in a "moderate" class so it's a good workout but doesn't kill me. And to be honest, I'm surprised by the number of people in the class. Last night we were about as full as we could get in the cozy studio; there were about 16 of us I think. Now, I realize this town isn't completely backward, but it's not exactly hip either so 16 seems like a lot to me. And there were people there this week that weren't there last week and vice verse so there are probably 20 or so that attend that class somewhat regularly.

Each night our Yogi asks us if there is anything we WANT to do and usually there are one or two suggestions. Last night, somebody mentioned abs. Ugh. Yeah . . . I need to work my core desperately, but don't LIKE working it. Now, in Yoga the goal isn't a six-pack. It's to build a balanced, strong and flexible core which is actually BETTER for you than only doing crunches and actually shortening your muscles. We engage the core throughout the session, but our Yogi chose one pose in particular that I could really feel my abs working. Okay, that's putting it mildly. By the end of the pose I was cursing myself, my abs, and the Yogi. Of course, I'm not cursing her now and I know by the time school begins again, that pose won't be quite so bad.

I signed up for a five class pass for now as I'm going away in a couple of weeks and then I'll be home only for three more before I leave again. As soon as I get back, classes begin and though I HOPE to continue this practice, I just don't know yet. I teach until 5pm and the class starts at 5:30 - that's a tight squeeze to finish up on campus, get to my car, and get downtown. It's POSSIBLE, but I just don't know how PROBABLE yet. SIGH.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed though and for now, enjoying the peace and power a regular practice provides.

Double Digits, Baby!

This morning I ran 10 miles!

To be perfectly blunt, it kind of sucked.

I couldn't understand it. I was well-rested and had been eating very well for the first time since I moved here. I haven't had a drink in nearly a week, so I was hydrated. I ate the same breakfast as last week and just like last week drank some of yesterday's coffee before I left. What's the deal?

It could be for any number of reasons. Maybe it's that I haven't run double digits in over a year. The last time I saw ten miles was at The Kentucky Derby Half-Marathon. I ran it last year with my brother, his wife, and my nephew. Well, my nephew ran so fast I saw his back for about 10 seconds . . . so he doesn't really count.

This morning might have hurt, too, because it was hot. It was easily the warmest morning we've had this summer. Now I like the heat, those of you who know me know that much, but there is something about building miles as the heat builds too that can be a little hard on the body. So we ran out the second mail-box past Towanda-Barnes Road. If that sounds like a country road surrounded by farmland, well . . . once you get out there it is! But a majority of the run is part of the Constitution Trail and, at least in this direction, in the sun most of the way. Blech. On the way out, you face the sun directly.

On the way back, I was happy to have the sun at my back. But today it meant facing a tough head-wind. You would think, nice - a little breeze to cool you off! Not quite. The wind was hot, so not exactly refreshing, and it was strong enough to give resistance to the running. UGH. That really hurt.

Of course, I think I hurt a little from dehydration in spite of not having had any alcohol this week. As I may have said in a previous post, I tend to stop at every other water stop. So as I approached the last water stop of LAST week, Coach P was there on his bike, and I asked if there was another stop at the turn around. He was on his cell, but nodded yes, so I passed the water stop.

When I got to that second mailbox, it wasn't there. And remember the Heel-biter last week? Well, he was there and he couldn't see anything either. NO! I even, in my stupor, opened the mailbox in hopes the plastic bin of fluids was there. Nada. So, after walking a few paces with the Heel-biter I was off and I could tell I needed the hydration. But what can you do except put one foot in front of the other as you focus on the next water stop. It has been a long time since I've been THAT happy to see a bottle of Powerade. As it turns out, Coach P sends an e-mail that tells us where the water stops are each week and had I READ it, I would have known the water stop was NEAR the mailbox but not AT the mailbox. Lesson learned.

Oh yeah, and then there's my friendly competition with the Heel-biter. He started behind me this week and I couldn't hear him directly behind me, but at the first water stop he flew by me and I could tell the unspoken competition was on. I was feeling pretty good the first few miles, and would nearly catch him at the water stops, but he would gulp and run and eventually, in the beating sun, he put a decent distance between us. It wasn't until we were nearing the half-way point that I caught up with him again and I could see by his form he was hurting. Like I said, the morning and the miles sucked. So there we were at the mailbox, denied fluids, and I remarked on the pace he'd set. He said he was now feeling fatigued . . . and that he decided to "let" me lead. Excuse me? I really prickled at that, but said nothing. I just started running away from him. From that point on, I wanted to make CERTAIN he didn't pass me.

Maybe that was a bad idea. I mean, in some ways the competition is good and I was glad to be pushed. I decided that I would take my drink and walk the water stop instead of stand and drink . . . which is exactly what I will do during the marathon. So that was a good thing. But to INSIST he not only not pass me, I didn't want to SEE him behind me at the stops. I suppose this pushed me a little more than I needed and contributed to the agony of the run. SIGH.

So I suppose there were plenty of reasons the 10 miles didn't feel so good. Needless to say, after my usual run to the Farmer's Market, I spent the rest of the day, well, resting. I got home and made a smoothie. Normally I have enough for two days but after today's run, I drank the entire blender full! And I enjoyed the guilty pleasure of a bagel. I even made a pot of coffee, but was so tired I didn't bother to drink it.

So I am thinking about grabbing a cup, heating it up, and sipping on it now. I have a few errands to run and am debating what to fix for dinner tonight. I'm kinda craving a margarita with dinner and frankly, think I've earned it.

So bottoms up, Baby! I ran 10 miles!

Cats N Jammer

Okay, it's not exactly Zoe and Bea, but it's damn close. I haven't managed to get those two together much, let alone adding Henry to the mix!

So being that it is summer and I have quite a bit more time on my hands, I am spending more time with my pets.

It isn't all quality time . . .

Let's start with Zoe. She's my oldest and deserves the respect. What is fun about summer for us is Zoe running with me and I can take longer, more frequent walks with her. I let her determine the route (since I have no pressing engagements) and I have to say she likes a lot of variety.

One morning we'll head north toward the Country Club, the next south toward Holiday Park. Another day we'll go east to nowhere in particular, the next we'll start west toward the Beernuts Factory. Each day is an adventure. And inevitably, Zoe takes us to a watering hole where I let her swim.

Sadly, it's her swimming that brings the not-so-fun summer entertainment. For yet another summer, Zoe has dermatitis. Basically, that means she sheds badly and her skin gets itchy and flaky - like she has a bad case of dog dandruff. YUCK.

There aren't too many things I can do to relieve her of this condition: I could buy expensive medicines or supplements from the vet (not in the budget) or I can give her a bath with a less expensive medicated shampoo (hmmm, any OTHER suggestions?).

Now Zoe is a lab and obviously LOVES the water - so what's the big deal about a bath? Nothing when she was a puppy. She used to jump into the tub with my niece voluntarily when she was little! But now, well, somehow Zoe equates them with punishment (could it be all of her joyous romps in Eu de dead animal that did it?) and she does everything short of getting aggressive with me to avoid them. Imagine DRAGGING your 70 lb. lab, who has miraculously figured out how to double her weight by planting her feet firmly on the ground and sticking her butt out behind her, downstairs and putting her in the tub. I've tried bathing her outside, but there are far too many escape routes for this doggy Houdini. Then you need to soak her coat (labs are great water dogs because their coats are practically water proof) and scrub down her entire body. Ideally you let the shampoo SIT on her for 10 minutes. Yeah, right. It's best to expedite the bathing process with this dog so we do the "drive thru" version. After I've completely rinsed her off, I then need to "catch" her with a towel as she comes out the tub so she won't soak the entire bathroom. I don't know why I bother to try. No matter how good I get a the process, the end product is always the same. It's like a wet dog-hair-bomb exploded in the bathroom. I use 4 towels to "dry" her and about 10 more to clean the damn place! Honestly, I swear I clean an entire dog out of the drain alone . . . and then I have to clean the floor, the walls, and yes - oh yes - even the ceiling. Where is she hiding all that hair???

Sadly, it appears she's shedding so much this summer she's getting a little thin in some places. What's next? Shampooing her with Rogaine for dogs?

Oh! And I get to do this twice a week.

As crazy as THAT sounds, it pales in comparison to the latest kitty care.

Henry tops the list here. I've had Henry for a couple of months now and I was waiting to get him neutered when I had some free time. Big mistake. As he is a male in an all female home, he felt it necessary to MARK his claim on this home. I tried everything . . . to no avail. Fortunately, with the exception of the top shelf of my closet, he let the living areas of the home alone. But he had a field day in the "finished" attic (where I keep his food and litter box) and the "finished" basement (where I keep Bea's litter box). UGH.

So I finally make the appointment to get him fixed and off her goes. Of course, upon research, he hadn't be vaccinated or checked for anything really before I got him so I get a recommended LIST from the vet that totals nearly $400!! What-the-f*#k? NO WAY. So I go with only those things absolutely necessary for the procedure - still nearly $300 worth - and call it a day.

I get him back and I'm happy to say the marking has, from what I can tell, stopped. Yippee! It's the pooping outside the litter box that's the behavioral problem of the moment. Oh joy, oh rapture. Every or every other day, I get the good fortune to clean my carpets with Nature's Miracle and a handy dandy Dirt Devil Spot Scrubber. That and I've got a few things going after consulting the experts at Petco and spending yet another $50 or so. I'll keep you posted.

But wait, there's more!

Both cats have EAR MITES. So you thought bathing a dog was tough work? Try cleaning the ears of two cats still in possession of their claws.

Henry actually takes it pretty well. He shakes his head a lot, but only cares to swipe once or twice through the ordeal.

Bea is another story entirely. Those that know Bea, remember a sweet, SILENT (except when she would stutter or try to bark) kitty who hardly fit in the palm of my hand when I found her. She was sick and pretty docile - even when I had to bathe her twice a day to get rid of her ring worm.

Our little Bea is all grown up now. And boy is she pissed off! She's mad at me from letting Henry into the home and mad at Henry just for existing - she's even a little made at Zoe, who is only guilty by association.

And she's silent no longer. Oh don't get me wrong, she hasn't started meowing. But when Henry joined our family she got in touch with her big cat ancestors and learned to growl, hiss, and spit like a pro. So imagine trying to clean her ears and then put medicine in them.

Oh my - it's a battle. First I have to lure her into the bathroom with treats - and she's not stupid - she's got me figured out now. Then I have to squirt the cleaning solution into one ear and rub so it "lathers" a little. That's if I can keep her in my control. One hand is occupied by the bottle of cleaner. The other tries desperately to hold her by the scruff of her neck but she'll give the most limber of yogis a run for his money! She can twist and turn and no matter what way she goes, she makes contact with my bare skin and at least one claw.

All the while she growls and hisses and spits.

Once I've gotten solution in the ear (and I have to say I still don't know if I've really been successful with that!), I have to clear it with a cotton ball. Uh huh - right. And then I get to "carefully place" a Q-tip into the ear canal to see if it's clean. WHAT?? You've got to be kidding me!!!! I've got a moving torture devise in one hand and I'm armed with a damn Q-tip! I can't even FIND the ear half the time through all the spitting, hissing, and hair and claws flying about.

Needless to say, I am covered in scratch marks and Bea still has ear mites.

And I'm supposed to do that EVERY day.

We've amended it to every third day . . . or so. People whisper when I go out now and my scratches show. It isn't pretty.

Ahh . . . the joys of cats n jammer!