Adios Twenty Fifteen.

Twenty Fifteen. Come and gone in a blink of an eye. It ends with unseasonably warm weather--so much so that some spring plants are popping up here and there....

...I hope Mother Nature is not storing up for a stupendously cold and blizzard-filled January and February 2016. That would be just plain rude.

I'd could write a rhyming poem, but I think I'll write an ode instead.
I could look back at my FB page and check the year's blog posts, but that would be cheating. Off the top of my head, I pay homage to the year as it closes.
I am grateful to have so much positivity flowing through our lives.

Twenty Fifteen.
A prime-numbered birthday age for both me and the wife.

A quietly fabulous year.
Not flashy, not mundane.
Balanced in such an adult-like fashion.

The blog's ten year anniversary.
A new tattoo.
Three trees removed.
A to-be teacher-now graduate house guest.
A dog no more....
....a suddenly pet-free house.

Two Doctor Who-related conventions.
Four baseball stadiums.
Blurry-eyed Netflix binges.
A trip to the Mecca for a Green Bay Game.
I thought the Cubs were going all the way...
....just wait until next year.

More cheesy wiblets.
Less house projects.
A new iPad for the wife.
A trip to Gluten Free hell for me.
An android purchase...
...I secretly lust an iPhone.


One kick-ass regional professional presentation by the wife.
She's a physical education pedagogy rock star.
One crappy state-wide professional presentation by me.

At least I got to wear one of my suits that are collecting dust in the closet.

Lots of health and happiness.
Lots of laughs.
Lots of family cheer.
One naughty elf.
Friends, oh the friends!
Food, oh the food!

A good year, indeed.
Of nothing to complain.
Of nothing to whine.
Of much to embrace.
Of much to celebrate and reflect.

I hope you, too had a fabulous year.

I wish you a very happy, healthy, boisterous-to-your-liking 2016.

Elf.Out.

Schaddi headed back to the North Pole, not a moment too soon. It was exhausting having him around. Those who followed him on FB are fully informed of his antics over the past month. For those not in the know, I sum up his visit with a few photos. I'm going to need a lot of therapy to get over his visit...

He almost got me fired....

  He went out boozing with our friends...
 

He stuffed his face with sugar.... 
 














We won't even talk about this bizarre incident....
 



















But, in the end, he behaved well enough to attend Eldest Niece's graduation.....

 












....and, with the Christmas-timed Full Moon, he found himself ready to return home for the year.....
 











Schaddi the Evil Elf off the Shelf has left the building. Deuces.

Of Evil Evils and Beloved Ice Cream

I took this photo right after Thanksgiving, hoping to use it as the holiday drew nearer. I had no idea that Freckles wouldn't be around before I got to use it. I'm so glad to have taken the photo. Schaddi loved Freckles.

It was a quiet week in the Addiverse. Thankfully, Schaddi the Evil Elf off the Shelf was laying low, which led to a much quieter week on the holiday horror front. Sadly, being a no-dog home left it a bit emptier, much quieter and rather confusing. We're adjusting quickly--but understandably find ourselves looking for the dog, whether it be to carry up the stairs or to plop on the couch, take outside before going to bed or to put in the car to go for a ride. Navigating the house is no longer an obstacle course--not having gates block both sets of stairs is quite the concept. It gives the house a different "look." I didn't realize how the gates had become part of the landscape. Yesterday, I almost said aloud, "I'm gonna take Freckles for a ride to the ATM," but at the last milli-second remembered there was not a Freckles to take anywhere in the car. Instead, I let out a sigh and went to the ATM all by my lonesome.

I'm glad Schaddi the Evil elf and Eldest Niece are around. They take the sting out of loss without even knowing it. The holidays and end of semester have kept the wife distracted and I've stayed busy consuming naughty lunch time food products, fueling a sugar-filled serotonin buzz. Dang, I have to start taking my lunch to work lest I burst into a ball of sucrose flames.

Speaking of food, the gluten-free experiment continues. I swear my goiter has gotten bigger since starting this endeavor. Perhaps it's just firing up as it heals. Perhaps it is searching for all the gluten it is missing. Perhaps it is, as MJagger suggested, that my skin is "thinning with age" and thus it is easier to see. (Thanks for nothing, MJagger. You just wait until you are my age. We'll see how your throat skin looks.) Last weekend, I was talking to someone who also has Hashimoto's. I was babbling about being gluten-free in effort to address my goiter-ness. She indicated she, too had Hashimoto's and had made great strides in her treatment, no longer on as many thyroid replacement meds.

Her answer?  "Cut out the dairy."

Stunned. I was stunned into silence. I stared at her, mouth hanging open in a most unattractive manner. She said, "You're going to have to give up dairy. I avoid dairy. It makes a huge difference."

I'm very proud of myself for not slapping her.

Turns out she is seeing the same doctor I am seeing. Her healing endeavor focuses on no dairy while mine on no gluten. How this can be, I do not know. But, I do know that I WILL NOT be giving up ice cream.

I've avoided gluten like the plague. I've added things like quinoa and flax to my food regiment. I use almond milk. But, I draw the line at dairy as related to ice cream.

Dairy is often involved in chocolate, so I guess I do consume vats of "hidden dairy" on a daily basis. But, ice cream? 

NO ONE messes with my ice cream.

I voiced my concerns about not consuming dairy, stressing my love of ice cream and chocolate. She replied, "have you tried any of those frozen coconut ice cream-like products?" She went on to comment on how there are lots of good non-dairy ice cream-type products on the market.

I am REALLY PROUD for not slapping her after such sacrilegious comments.

Seriously! Frozen non-dairy "ice cream" products ARE.NOT.ICE CREAM. Have you ever tried them? Oh dear god. An expensive waste of money. The texture is wrong. The flavor is wrong. Everything is wrong. It's not even enjoyable.

I avoid gluten. I am meat-free. I don't drink pop. I don't drink alcohol. I don't drink real milk. I eat chocolate with the highest percentage possible. I don't smoke. I wear my seat belt. I pay my bills on time. I take my shoes off when I come in the house. I don't use glitter on the premises.... how much more can I do???

I will NOT give up ice cream. I'll eat frozen yogurt when possible but I will not give it up.

We are already undergoing much change. I don't have time for such nonsense. Not having to come home for lunch, not having to come home after a certain number of hours, not having to give the dog eye drops four to six times a day, not waking up in the middle of the night to let the dog out is a whole new way of being. Change permeates our lives. I don't have the interest or energy for another change, especially of which requires dairy to leave my life.

If push comes to shove, I will drink my coffee with some non-dairy almond/soy/coconut/buttever product. I'll even eat cocoa out of the can.......

....but, you can kiss my cheesy-wiblet butt cheeks if you think I'm gonna give up ice cream. Like they say, "without ice cream, there would be darkness and chaos."

I didn't say it. I bit my tongue until it bled. I wanted to tell that lady what I was thinking, but I didn't. The baby Jesus must have intervened. The words fought to spew forth, but I prevailed. I so wanted to scream:

"I will send Schaddi the Evil Elf off the Shelf to harm you if you ever make such a sacrilegious comment again, bitch. That elf will find you. That elf will take you out. Don't mess with me, my goiter, my ice cream or the elf." 

Instead, I gave her a half-smile and took a bite of my gluten-free bun. Give up ice cream, my ass. Sheesh.

Doesn't she know that ice cream is duct tape for the heart?

**************************************************************************************************


 

Honoring Freckles

Before you start reading, rest assured this is not a maudlin account of a dog's life lost. It's a salute to the tenacity of one special party pup. Get past the two sentences and you'll be fine.

For those of you not in the know, Freckles Warrior Princess--a 15.5 year old shih tzu/llasa apso mutt--moved along this weekend. Call it what you will--suffice it to say, she's moved on, gone to terrorize Lucy in a much bigger dog park than those found here on Earth.

Freckles was always in charge. She demanded other dogs bow down in her presence. Despite many training efforts and obedience interventions, she always stood bigger than her actual stature. How she didn't get ripped to shreds by bigger dogs, I do not know. Most dogs cowered when she snarled her lip and growled in warning. Some dogs peed on themselves after rolling over in her presence. She had power and she knew how to assert it. More than once I had to intervene when she voiced her vibrato. With her regal dignity emanating from her furry being, she made it know she was not going to share her throne. Gotta love that tenacity as long as no fur flies and no muzzles are required.

She lived up to her breed. The Llasa is known for being "one of the hardiest, toughest, and strongest willed of all the small breeds. It is said that "when a Lhasa Apso looks in the mirror, he sees a lion." That couldn't be more true. She roared. Little? She wasn't little at all. Frail? Not a chance. She was aristocratic, strong and stubborn up until the very end.

Freckles was loyal beyond measure. When the wife was down for the count with her horrible back woes, Freckles refused to leave her side. The photo here shows Freckles protecting the wife as she lay in pain, ice pack on side. The face says it all: Leave my mistress alone. I'm not leaving. She suffered no fools gladly. Llasa apso and shih tzu breeds are known for being guard dogs. She made the breed proud. Oh, how we would dread when someone would ring the doorbell--the guard dog in this little lion came roaring out.

It may have appeared Freckles only tolerated Lucy but in reality, Freckles was all about protecting her. It was one of FWP's most admirable traits, but it was also a downfall, as it did not help in her "need to be in charge around other dogs" way of being. No one was going to mess with Lucy. No one. Truly a protective big sister. Bullies, beware.

Freckles was gifted in the field of psychiatry. When I would take her to work, she'd be-bop between people, giving love as appropriate...then, suddenly she would screech to a halt, right at the feet of a client. Incredibly (or not). she could sense if someone was psychiatrically decompensating. She would back away as if to take a longer look, no frolicking to be had. I'd make a mental note of her diagnosis and follow up later, as she was right 9 times out of 10. If she pointed someone out, they usually were indeed starting to decompensate. Thanks to Freckles, I was able to secure additional supports for several clients before I would have ever noticed they needed it.

Of course, this intuition put a damper on her therapy dog status; after all, she was backing away from the folks who might most benefit from a furry friend. Ah well, she didn't really like the therapy dog gig. She wanted to pick people on her own terms, not mine. Her therapeutic interventions were just "different" than the traits needed to serve in the traditional capacity.

Freckles was stoic, stubborn and really hard to potty train. Oh, that potty training! I swear she would look at us and say, "I'll pee where I want to, bitches."  While Lucy was happy-go-lucky, all laughs, energy, simple and potty trained in a day, Freckles had a mind of her own. Perhaps she was too smart for her own good. She learned tricks in a matter of minutes yet refused to fully comply with potty training for many, many months (as proven by the condition of our rug). Perhaps part of that was my fault as I tried to teach her to ring a bell when she wanted to go outside.....

Instead, I taught her to ring the bell when she wanted a treat. Smart dog. She knew what she was doing.

Freckles had a lot of health problems; in fact, it is a miracle she lived as long as she did. (I'd like to credit all the organic, expensive food she ate along the way but it was probably her stubbornness that kept her around.) Here she is, showing off her cast after she ripped off one of her nails, thus requiring surgery. She heeled on the brink of death a few times while traversing this life. I've got the vet bills to prove it. I finally had to have a talk with her during her brush with death at age 10, I explained this had to be it--no more giant medical interventions, I told her I would do what I could, then gave her warning that she needed to get her act together. I ended our talk by telling her she would have to live until 16 years old for me to get my money's worth.

She almost made it, god love her. Not only did she strive to give us those six additional years, she did it without costing us more than the annual things all dogs need. Now, that's a loyal, determined dog.

In the end, Freckles morphed into a lumpy, crusty, rather smelly, hard of hearing, mostly blind crumudgeon-flavored of a dog...but, she still triumphed in the world, remaining regal, loyal and stubborn until her time ran out. She wanted to make it to that "fourth-last Christmas," but her body had other ideas. Freckles made sure she didn't miss a meal, a treat or a car ride. She proudly demanded to go "out" when it was time. A Queen does not piddle in the house (well, unless said Queen wants to piddle in the house). She continued to guard the house when we went to work, facing the deck as if to say, "I dare you to try and get it."

I'm smiling as I type, as I'm so glad this dog came into our lives. The memories may squeak out my eyes every once in awhile, but they are happy squeaks. Thank you to a most wonderful warrior of a princess pup. We will alway cherish memories of you ruling the palace.