Under the Gunk

After 26 hours of being wrapped and antibioticed, this is what Tango's knee looks like. The damage is not really deep after all, but there is certainly some meat missing. The worst part of it is the location--right across her knee. That will make it harder to heal, but I am not really concerned about it--being this close to a joint is always nerve-wracking but since it did not get too deep, I am sure she will be fine. Whatever infection we saw in the pus last nite is working out well, but it sure does not smell good right now--I know that is part of the process, but it is still funky to have to be face first in that mess. It is amazing to me that she is not walking funny on it at all--she must be one tough cookie.

For some reason, easing into the routine of treating an ouch like this makes me feel weird--bad because she got hurt, but good because I feel good taking special care of her. Very interesting situation, that one. I guess it is a good thing I dont have people kid's--I might end up being one of those Munchausen by Proxy people.

An admission

That damn medicine the doctor prescribed for me worked. By this morning, my throat had stopped hurting. Still coughing, but at least each one does not make me cry like it did the rest of the week.

Simba decided early to enjoy the beautiful day. Slater stayed in bed with me--he sleeps as much as I do--and when I turned him out, I saw Simba relaxing in the sun. She looks so regal. For some reason, this photo makes me a little sad though--maybe because last nite I noticed that one of her fatty tumors has grown a lot in a week. I know they are normal, especially at her very advanced age of 9 or 9.5, and that there is no reason to put her through anasthesia to get rid of them--but for some reason, they still make me sad.

If I thought that was a problem though, I had no idea what was in store for me. I managed to work part of the day, and when I got home, Madison said that Tango was limping. And swollen.
These pics do not begin to show how swollen her leg is. By the time we got everything else done and her brought in, she was walking just fine. Do not ask me how, as that is an ugly mess. It runs right across her right knee--but does not seem that deep, so hopefully it will heal up with no problems.
She was such a good girl to let me doctor it--I got it wrapped up, antibiotics started, etc, and tomorrow, it should soften up enough that I can really dig in there and see what happened. Babies can hurt themselves in a rubber room, they never cease to amaze me.

All that work made it clear to me that when I washed all the dozens of quilt and polos, I lost them. That put me on the internet to order more for the next time this happens--and it will. That reminded me that I also need Seramune for the babies to come, and e.coli endotox----
needless to say, I dropped a wad online tonight, But thank God for it, as otherwise, poor hillbillies like me would not have easy access to the things we need.

It is storming like crazy, and I am praying I made the right choice when I brought Melody in for the nite--she is bedded down in a fresh stall, happy as a clam now probably that she realizes how hard it is storming. It may be an old wives tale, but weather like this sometimes brings on the babies--now watch there be three new ones standing out in the rain tomorrow morning!

In which I tried to off myself in the Walgreen's parking lot

Bad day for Paigey, folks.

I may have mentioned this, I don't know, once or twice, but I am ill. Bad ill. And I am not one to complain, you know.

HELLO? is anyone reading this crap? All I do is complain. Hell, I get paid to complain, which I think is a fine twist of fate for someone like me.

In any event, I am sick. Moving on.

I call the doc this morning when I get up--after going to sleep at 5:30 am, I actually got up before noon, to call the doc. No answer. WTF, I ask you? I am not calling the man's house, but a practice with four docs and at least 6 office people whose job it is to answer the phone. But they do not.

I had to go dr the eyeball of Miss Aries and give morning stuff to the Fatten-up Section of the Farm, so I go to do that and head into town to sign a document at work. From there, I intend to get through to the doc, see him, get more drugs and come home to bed.

That so did not happen. I got to work around 1 pm and promised not to breathe on anyone--just sign here, here and here, and call the doc. For 42 minutes I jack around trying to get these people to answer the phone. I even wondered if my phone's contact numbers have gone wonky and got out the trusty phone book. Still no answer. By this time, I was sweating and my throat hurt so bad that I cried a little when I had to swallow. I wrote some letters, emailed them around, did some odds and ends and kept on calling on the speaker phone.

FINALLY, I got someone to answer the Friggin phone. They are so lucky I am hoarse and only have a few words in me today, or I would have had a come to Jesus with these people. So lucky.
Oh no, there are no appointments--this does not shock me, after all, what makes a sick person think they need with a doc? But his nurse will call me and fix me up.

I wait some more. I drink 6 gallons of water. I sweat some more and try not to breathe on people. Since I did not intend to be at work, I did not have my big project with me, that I had gotten early in the week in the hopes I could stay awake long enough to finish it by the end of the month. Seems funny now, since I may not live that long. It would be dumb to go all the way home though if I was just going to have to turn around and go back to town to pick up drugs.

She calls, and of course, cannot really hear me telling her what is wrong with me---I had a feeling that would happen, but she is in such a rush, I doubt she noticed what I actually said my symptoms were. She told me she would talk to doc, then call in a scrip and call me and say she had done it.

I wait some more. By then it was 2:30. Not so bad, but sumbitch---she never called back. I ended up sitting at work until 5 pm. Which is a half day of work for someone who probably should not be around other people, and probably was stinking from sweating so much.

I gave up and went to Walgreens assuming she had called it in, but had forgotten to call me and tell me that. I drive there. I see the end of the rainbow thinking I might feel better soon. Or maybe I was hallucinating, who knows.

I should have known better. No prescription has been called in. We had this conversation around 4:58. They check all the voicemails, none about me. They screw around about 10 minutes, then call the doctor's office, only to be shocked that they were closed after 5 pm. Oy.

I loaded up on $100 of sore throat and cold stuff, and headed home. In the parking lot, I ran into Meagan and bitched until I lost my voice again--it was very quiet bitching. I was cruising down Broadway when my phone rang--and I knew by the number that it was the damn doctor's office. Oh NOW she calls me.

She says she just called it in--at 5:30. Thanks, I say, I have been there an hour waiting on it. She said I should have waited for her call. I say --wheeze, really-that I assumed it would be there by 5, since surely she would not leave me hanging over nite and they close at 5. Oh no they don't close at 5, and she laughs at me.

This was starting to piss me off. I turned around and went BACK to the freaking Walgreens. And got in the drive thru line, as I was afraid I would pass out if I went back inside. It was not a good sign that I was in line behind Meagan who had not moved very far since I left.

I got up to the window and they ask my name. I tell them. No less than 6 times. They cannot hear me. Imagine that. I had to write my name down on a scrap of paper from the car and hold it up to their window or I would still be sitting there. Then they ask me to tell them my birthday. We go through all the same things. I wait some more. Then what is my address? Hell if they were going to deliver, they should have said so an hour ago. But no, they were just torturing me.

FINALLY, I get my little bag of pills--7 pills, for $24. I like to see the real cost-- or what they claim it is, if you did not have insurance--and that was $125. For 7 pills. Jesus Mary and Joseph, is this country screwed up or what?

I come home, try not to pass out on the way or God forbid have to talk to anyone, and take my pill. Then I looked it up on the internet to see what could be so good that I only need 7 pills, and guess what I find? That one side effect is a sore throat and the other is earaches (that and ruptured tendons, and muscle pain, but whatever).

What the hell did these people think I was calling them for, if not sore throat and earache, in addition to all this other crap?

So if you never see me again, I am probably stuck in this chair unable to get out of it due to ruptured tendons, and muscle pain to severe to drag myself around without them. And I will also have a fork stuck in my ear or throat to stop the pain.

Big belly update

And this time I am not talking about mine. We already did that, didn't we?

This is Miss Melody. She is due on March 14, but last year she was a tricker and went two weeks early. If she does that again this year, she will spit forth her spawn this weekend. Of course, since I am expecting that, she will do no such thing. I am trying to trick her to hang on til it is a little warmer around here. I stopped over to feed her and check all the soon-to-be mamas this afternoon, and while she is not bagged up far enough for me to think she is going to foal soon, she is uncomfortable, so who knows.

I won't be finding out if something happens via the living room though as Barry did not get the foalcam set up yet and he is leaving in the morning. Nor did he get the horse trailer moved over there--for the first time ever, I am looking forward to staying there on the nights when I am watching multiple mares, because I will get to stay in the new fancy horse trailer!~

But it aint there yet, so that is not going to happen either. He swears he will do it this weekend---

That is a lot of karma running into each other for one situation, isnt it? Me sick and unable to be at the top of my game, Mel not showing signs, so not stalled, foalcam not up anyway, trailer not there for me to be on standby, but Barry leaving town for three days.....that ought to make the universe work extra hard to get things lined out.
Big Xan is due at the same time as Mel. She too went early last year--12 or 13 days, I cannot remember which. I am watching her ass too--but she is not even starting to bag up. I am not having her slide by me this year like she did last year though, no sirree Bob.

If those two trickers are not enough, Hotrod is also due at the same time as them! Sly was wearing himself flat out on these girls last year, knocking up four of them in the space of 24 hours (and no, he did not breed all four of them the same day--but they managed to ovulate within 24 hours of each other or so--I could not make that happen had I tried to).

These top three mares are my biggest girls size wise--and not just height, but girth as well. They are all also about the same age, and I know what to expect from them when they deliver. Absent any mal-positioned foal or other unforeseen complications, I do not worry about them very much. I do want to be there for them though, as I have seen so many births that it has become normal for me to see them rather than abnormal. I know how wonderful it is, and now that I have the good camera, I want to be on top of things.


This one gives me some pause. Baby Cash--I guess we should stop calling her that now that she is about to become a mother--is due on March 13. Since she is a maiden, there is no telling when she will go. And while I say she is "due" then, there is really no such thing as a due date for mares--let that be todays horse trivia. They are considered full term after 32o days, and normal terms are from then until 360. It is habit for me to fix their due date at 340 days, which is what a lot of people do, and to expect a baby around that time. Some never do that, for example Playmate who always foaled at 326 days even if she had to back up to you and birth it in your lap to get it done on time. She was like magic. Other horses are not so reliable, although many will make a pattern of going around a certain number of days. With mares who have never foaled, though, it is a crap shoot.

Cash conceived on April 8 last year. That is how I picked March 13 for her day. However, we have passed the 320 day mark, so if she foals anytime, it will likely be okay for the baby as far as being developed enough--some just do not have to cook as long as others. She is started to bag up, which is cute on her, since she is such a roly poly.

I wonder if she knows what is going on? Is she scared? Or excited? Last year, she stole Gypsy's baby from her right after it was born (another surprise a couple of days early with no warning), and was trying to take care of it--so I hope that carries over to her own baby. Horses are so weird, a maiden can do any fool thing like not have any interest in the baby, or hate it or be scared of it, or try to hurt it--so I dont want to miss this one under any circumstances. I have only had that happen once in all these years and that was one of our first babies, and I pray to God it never happens again, as we had to put the little baby down. I hate that.

On to other medical matters of interest besides the birthing of babies, Tequila is making it het job to lick herself into a bald oozing sore. She currently has these nice two lick granulomas or hot spots she is working on like it is her damn job. They are not nice. They ooze. I am not a fan of that. So she is back on prednisone and an abx for any infection it allows in. The pred makes her pee, which makes me glad I dont have the kind of illness that makes me queasy for sure.

She is a piece of work, but her back end was working pretty good today--enough that I saw her playing with Ratty boy and peeg today
Then I have the eye injury of unknown origin in Aries. She has somehow caused her right eye to swell shut--the lower lid is swollen pretty good, and it is almost all the way shut. She started eye with an ulcer treatment yesterday, just in case, but that takes a while. Eye injuries are weird. A little bute got the swelling down some tonight, enough that she fought the eye meds due to pain. Poor girl, I hate that for her. She is due in April, and I hate using a bute on one that close but it is not good to let her hurt either, so maybe a couple days of that will help her out.

I love that horse.
Yeah this is a pic of nothing--one that I focused on funny when trying to take shots of babies that will not get out of my way--it kind of turned out a little artsy though with the focus in the background rather than the fore.

I think my fever is making me loopy.

KMFBA Goodbye--Week #3

A day late, as is my custom, but yesterday, I was sure I would not live til today, so it hardly mattered what my weight loss stats were. Plus, since I was too sick to leave the house, I could not weigh on the right scale to find ut what the deal was.

Today, I am still dying, but needed new medicine, so I ran by the gym to weigh. I was not sure what to expect.

I busted my ass last week working out on Tuesday and Wednesday. Wednesday was a very big deal, as I did two spinning classes straight through, and did all the challenges. That is 80 minutes of spinning. In the intermediate class, they do much longer intervals of climbs, which I call the stand-up parts. The most I ever did in beginner class was 45 seconds. On Tuesday, I managed to do four different one-minute stands ups during the 60 minutes of work I did.

I was very proud of me, and the teacher noticed it--in fact, he pointed it out. On Wednesday, the intermediate class was full and I felt a little guilty about taking a spot if I did not intend to do it all. Plus, people look at me. I dont like that but it is good for me. Most of the people in that class, are racers and serious about biking--not just fat chics like me. And Barry knows them all cuz he races with them and trains with them sometimes. That is even more embarrassing but also shames me through it.

So on Wednesday, I did THREE-MINUTE stand-ups. The set was three minute, two minute then one minute, then back up again. I did two full sets. In fact, I did everything the class offered -every single thing. Sure, I got a little dizzy sometimes, and my feet went numb, but I was not about to let that stop me. I did not cramp at all and somehow I got that weird eupohoria thing I get around the 30 minute mark and was able to keep doing it.

It was AWESOME

I intended to do it again on Thursday , but I got distracted having some social life---which might mean either I am a drunk or not an exor-exic after all-so no exercise at all. Plus, in addition to all that beer, I ate regular food instead of watching myself. Very bad.

Shit happens though. On Friday, I had Pizza Hut buffet, but did not eat as much as usual. My Friday hard class that I was looking forward to was cancelled due to illness, which I heard before I went to the gym, so it was a real struggle to get me in the building. BUT I WENT! That is a big deal for me. Throwing off my schedule so that I am allowed to think about it is always my downfall. I did not do a lot while I was there-- 150 crunches, and about 25 minutes of weight machines, but I had not done machines in a while so that was better than nothing.

Saturday morning, I went to the gym at 11 and rode the bike for 30 minutes. Then I cooked some carrots and green beans to eat before I worked the horse show all day, at which I normally eat the shit out of some hot dogs with pickle relish. However, that was a bust. I was not feeling well at all, and by the time I got home, I was sick as a dog--standing out in the thirty degrees with a fever for 7 hours is not advised. So no eating that day to speak of--a bowl of chili and the veggies.

Sunday was the same. I mostly slept all day--in fact, I slept 19 hours out of 24. When I went to bed Sunday nite at 11---a full 3 hours before normal, I slept 15 more hours. I made myself eat yesterday, for fear that I would screw up my metabolic roll, and ended up going over, but that is ok.

All that brings me to today when I went to weigh. I thought I probably lost a little, but since there had been no exercise since Wednesday, I was worried.

I had my usual struggle with that damn scale that is schizophrenic. I gave up on that one, as it seemed to be talking crazy. I am afraid to believe it when it gets all crazy.

I gave in and tried the downstairs one which is out in public, so I have never used it. Mom has though and says it is two pounds heavier than upstairs. There was no one there, so I got on it---and holy balls, it says I had lost EIGHT POUNDS. And if it is two pounds heavy, that is a total of 10 in one week

While that sounds insane, and I am afraid to beleive it, I have so much to lose that its not out of the question. Not eating fast food, not drinking more than once a week, and working so hard may finally be catching up.

That is a total of 23 pounds.

Holy shit.

This is really pissing me off

And it may be because I am so sick, I cannot do any thing but sleep and watch TV, but I have had it with this.

This Chris Brown and Rihanna thing is getting on my nerves. Right now, there is a show on MTV dedicated to the whole issue.

The host made a comment that we might forgive Chris Brown for beating up some random chic, but not Rihanna.

WTF? It is the same ridiculous bullshit no matter who he beat up on. Comments like that suggest that there are some women who deserve better treatment than others, or should be more protected from bad behavior than others. Is this really the message that we should be putting forth on this topic? Not at my house, it ain't.

That really pisses me off. No woman deserves to be beat on, even if she is a homeless prostitute, instead of a superstar like Rihanna. None of them.

When is someone going to call these people in the public eye (commentators, hosts, magazines, etc) on this crap? They are perpetuating a very dangerous way of thinking with this position.

One of the first things I thought when this story broke, was what an example Rihanna could be to other women--she could show that it can happen to anyone, it is not a matter of shame, and that NO one deserves it. Maybe this story could give some girl the nerve to admit it is happening to her, and put a stop to it. Instead of working from that angle, the media is turning it around to squash women, instead of empowering them.

Oy what a weekend

I pretty much missed it. I have been asleep for 19 of the last 24 hours--and thank God, because I am as sick as I have been since I was over Christmas (one of my all time greatest sicknesses ever)

Very little of note is for telling then--and if it was, it would be too hard to type it anyway. I did see a true crime show on a case that I just finished helping on--Friday nite in the middle of the nite--that is always fun. It is weird to recognize names when you are scrolling through the channels and have to run back to figure out why and where they went.

Aries has poked her eye somehow and has swollen it half shut--she came right over to show me when I went to feed today, but of course, I had no halter then. I sent Barry out to get her and she ran--story of my life. But she is caught and doctored and hopefully will be feeling better soon--she is due in about 6 weeks I think.

I took some pics this weekend, but not many and it is way too hard to do anything about it til I feel better.

Stay tuned, and dont quit me over my boringness, please!

Friday Fragments

I have decided to join up with the Friday Fragments. Why? Because by Friday, I quite often cannot put together a coherent sentence-let alone a post worth reading.

So here is my first Friday Fragments post, which I learned about from Georgie, but which started at this blog....

Today, I once again failed to go to a very early morning spinning class. This is a surprise to no one, but I really did try--for the second day in a row, I actually set an alarm. I do not even do that for work, for Pete's sake. Then, the super hard post-work special Friday aerobics class that almost killed me last week, was cancelled tonight. That left me with just the weight machines to do, which I needed, but sure does not feel as fulfilling. I did that, then ran errands, and then went to see Slumdog Millionaire with Rita, Mindy and Jeri--majorly intense movie, but very good.

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Barry got home tonight and got my car out of the mud. Easily. I must have loosened it for him. When I got home from the movies, he was watching HGTV. He has an inordinate interest in girly kind of shows. It is not like he is into some do-it-yourself stuff.

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My friend Linda just emailed me and the topic of hairplugs for her horse came up. Hmm....
maybe Aries could use that for her forelock.

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I celebrated a work accomplishment with Jenna last nite--had fun, but it caused me to really screw up something else. I stood my mom up for a ball game, and I feel like shit about it. She has stood me up before and it really hurt my feelings, so that makes it even worse. I apologized but it still sucks.

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We have an ongoing issue with the parking lot at work. We are in a bank building and our lease calls for 16 very specific parking spots for us to use--but they are not marked in any way, so other people park in them. That leaves us short of places to park. This has become the boss' mission to resolve, and today she hollered that these people do not know who they are F*%&ing with. For some reason, I think that is hysterical coming from an academic chic who color coordinates everything.

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New hay from a new supplier comes tomorrow-I am anxious about it since who knows what it will be like, and it is already paid for. I did that today, with part of the tax refund that arrived in my account this morning. The money did not last long as I paid off the truck with most of it. I love that feeling.

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Tequila got new drugs today to deal with her new hotspot. I swear, if it is not one thing, it is another with her. I love her, but she is falling apart. I let her sleep with me last nite, and I am starting to wonder if she has split personalities. What can you expect though from someone whose best friend is a pig that outweighs her?

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I finally won a battle with Verizon today--not a complete win, but more than I usually get.

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Oh I give up--I do not think I have it in me to be interesting today.

Better luck tomorrow. I hope

Yeah, I did that

This week's prompt from Mama Kat is to tell about something mean I did to my sister.

Oh boy howdy can I tell some stories.

This may come as a shock to you, but I did not spring forth fully-formed into the grown-up bitch that I am. Oh no. This took work. I perfected the craft torturing Mandy our entire childhoods.

But, in my defense, she was just begging for a beat down most of the time. I am not the only one that calls her the "golden child". She knows its true. I swear, my parents thought she could do no wrong. They were sorely mistaken on that matter, but that has nothing to do with this story. But if you all start beating up on me for being so evil to her, I will tell some of them, so keep that in mind.

I am sure there is no one story about how I mistreated her that stands out.

Some of the highlights are as follows:

Once, when she was sleeping, Samantha and I put gerbil food in her mouth and it melted on tongue. Well, she should not have been sleeping with her mouth open. Tell me, which one of you would not have done the same?

I would steal food from the kitchen, like potato chips back in the day when two skinny bags came in one big bag, and I would eat them all and hide the empty bag under her bed or somewhere she would get blamed for it. This food addiction is another thing that is not new to me. I am pretty sure that mom always knew it was me, cuz God knows I am rarely as slick as I think I am. I would flat lie to mom and blame Mandy for it every single time.

Another doozy--I would give Mandy money to buy brownie mix or something at the store up the street. It is quite likely I stole the money from her in the first place. I would send her up the street, cook the brownies and sell her part of them for more than they cost in the first place. And then make her take the part that fell on the floor anyway.

Interesting how all these stories have to do with food.

I would also beat the living hell out of her. Not real fights, but I would slap her around some. Once she had a handprint in the middle of her back and I swore I did not do it. Well who in the hell did it then? I was the only other person there. I think that is her favorite story of how mean I was. She usually leaves out the part how she could completely throw me across the room by kicking me, of course. She is 3 years younger than me, but she kicked like a damn donkey. I bet there was not a person alive she could not send flying with those legs. One of my better moves was to stand on her sternum, which for some ridiculous reason makes us both hysterical talking about it now--she could not kick me from there. I was a skinny kid so not so much danger with that, but it seemed like it at the time.

We were rowdy kids, so there were a lot of times when the entire house would shake, the windows would rattle and something would break--then it would get silent. Mom would yell from another room, asking what we were doing, and the answer was always "nothing". We were not about to rat each other out. I promise though, it was usually her tearing up something. Mostly though, mom would yell "Paige stop it!"

What was that about you think?

Bad week in the animal kingdom

Cinder 1994-2009

I love me some Cinder. Love her, I have loved her since she was born, and we have visited her at least once a year since then. She is so funny, and I just want to hug her. I even took Holly and her girls to visit her when they came from Pennsylvania last year--that is how much I love me some Cinder. I think I love her cuz she was nekkid, in that all her hair fell out from alopecia. Cinder did not care if she had hair--unless of course she got sunburned, then I imagine she cared.

My mom thinks maybe she was related to us. That could be. There is a lot of nekkid in this group too.

Anyway, I just heard this on the news and took this article from the St Louis Zoo website to post here. The following pics came from there too--but the one on the top I took this year. She was such a ham, it was fun to take pics of her.

Sad News About Cinder

Cinder, a 14-year-old chimpanzee at the Saint Louis Zoo who was best known by her fans as "the hairless chimp," died suddenly and unexpectedly on Sunday afternoon, February 15, 2009. She will be very much missed by our staff, our volunteers and visitors.

Sunday started out as another normal day in the Jungle of the Apes, according to Curator of Primates Ingrid Porton. As always, upon arrival the keepers checked all the apes. Eight of the 11 chimpanzees were at various stages of a cold that was going through the group. Cinder, one of the first to catch the cold, had none of the runny nose and cough symptoms she had shown last week. She welcomed the keepers with her signature pant-greeting while presenting her belly for tickling. Her appetite and attitude were good.

The keepers were busy giving all the apes their afternoon snack when they heard a series of alarm barks coming from the chimpanzees. They found Cinder collapsed on the floor with alpha male, Hugo, next to her. He tried to get her to respond. After separating the group from her, the keepers and zoological manager of primates began trying to resuscitate her even before veterinary help arrived. She was immediately given emergency drugs intravenously. Resuscitation attempts were continued, but without success.

A necropsy with preliminary results from the Saint Louis Zoo's pathologist did not show an obvious cause of unexpected death. Further laboratory tests are being conducted on tissue samples, blood samples and bacterial cultures taken from the necropsy. Results from the tests are expected in three to four weeks.

"Her death is a huge shock to all of us who took care of and watched her grow up," says Porton. "Cinder was an unexpected baby. Her mother, Mollie, and father, Smoke, were brought to the Saint Louis Zoo to become foster parents to Hugo. The two were experienced parents, but their last baby had been born nine years earlier, and it was thought that offspring was to be their last. Thus, the Zoo was surprised when Mollie gave birth to a healthy girl on August 9, 1994."

Background on Cinder

When she was five months old, Cinder began losing her hair. Zoo veterinarians, along with medical specialists in dermatology, determined she had a condition called Alopecia universalis. An autoimmune disease, it also occurs in about 2% of the human population.

"We were worried about negative reactions from visitors when Cinder lost all her hair," explains Porton. "We didn't want her viewed as a freak so that they couldn't see her as another member of our chimpanzee family who had a distinct and complex personality. Although some visitors were disconcerted by her naked state, most people showed compassion and genuine interest.

"Cinder's unusual appearance never affected her relationships with the other chimps. Many people remarked that humans could learn a lesson from our group."

Cinder was there for the introduction of all five foster brothers and sisters. She was a coddled baby when Jimmy, Hugo and Mlinzi were accepted into Mollie and Smoke's family. She was jealous of Mollie's attention when Holly and Bakari were fostered into the growing family but showed a maternal attitude towards young Tammy when she joined the family in 2003. Although she had no hair for Tammy to cling to, Cinder let the youngster ride on her back.

"We still miss Cinder's mother, Mollie, who died in 2004 at approximately 37 years of age," adds Porton. "Her 41-year-old father, Smoke, is still with us. Though Cinder died at a relatively young age, we find solace in the fact that she lived an active, happy life, developed close social relationships within her ever-growing family group and learned to love the great outdoors at Donn & Marilyn Lipton Fragile Forest, where her naked body was transformed from a pale white to an attractive tan."

Way too much time

was spent today with my legs spread.

I had the annual visit to the gynecologist today. Oh joy. I do not think there is a woman alive that likes that trip. My doctor is very nice, but still it is not fun. My doc is in St Louis, so it is an all day affair to go see him, but that meant I got to have lunch at Maggiano's, which is where we tried to have dinner Saturday nite, but could not get in.

It was EXCELLENT.

Then I went to the doc, dreading my weigh-in--but for no reason--it showed I lost another pound. But although I am sure it is correct on the total weight, I cannot compare that to the scale I usually weigh on, as they are all different.

Anyway, off I went to my little room and put on the two part paper dress. I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out a way that the paper skirt would fit all the way around me. There was no such way--but I am sure I was a picture turning it every which way way, standing there buck naked, waiting for the doc to walk in. I finally gave up and just sat down and put it over me the best I could.

And it ripped. Of course it did. By the time he got there, I looked like I was trying to hoochy up my paper dress for the occasion, and of course, as soon as he got in the door, I blurted out that I broke my dress. I am so smooth.

I do not even know why we have those things anyway. It is not like he is not going to see all my business anyway, so why go through the charade of covering it up? I do not know. Neither does he apparently

The good news is that I am a "Well woman" as he says. Yay me

I got back to town just in time for spinning class--and to weigh on that regular scale. I kept getting crazy answers, so I waited for mom to show up and help me figure out what was going on. According to that scale, I have lost 2.5 more pounds from my lowest, two weeks ago, which is really more like 6.5 since I got back from Vegas. That is a total of 13. Yay me again. Only a whole shit load more to go.

I was kind of fired up, so I did my whole spinning class, and thirty minutes of the next one. In that class, I did something I have never been able to do before, and that was the one-minute stand ups. I did four of them! I am proud of that. I would have gone longer, but I had to get off to get my legs back so I could try another new class--body sculpting.

That may have been a mistake. In the middle of it, I hurt my back. I just cannot do those damn reverse crunches. In this class though, there was more of that leg spreading thing. Parts of me were shaking when this class was over even though I had to skip some parts after my back spasmed up.

Now that I am home, I am not at all convinced that I can get out of this chair. I don't have much choice though since I am the only actual person here, and I am hungry.

I think this exercise business is going to my head

Cranky

I am in a bad mood. After the shock of last nite, everything I touched today went wrong. I even got my car stuck in the yard in the mud. And with this much mud, it makes everything harder to do at the farm....those dumb horses will stand in the mud up to their fetlocks even when there is more than enough dry space---that makes me crazy. I played with the new tractor, and delivered some hay with it--that went well, but Twister made a break for it and made me chase him to get him caught again. I was tromping thru the mud while he laughed at me- I wanted to lay down in the mud and cry.

So to distract myself, I have been working on the pics from the Mardi Gras Dog parade yesterday in Soulard. They made me feel better.

Slater's real Mardi Gras costume had some malfunctions, so he chose some new accessories when we got there. Barry calls this his White Trash goes to town outfit.



Funny how when you put a stupid hat on Slater, all of a sudden he looks like a thug. The rest of the time he just looks silly.


Isn' t he handsome?
v



This is a friend he made, a 15 week old chihuahua, named Chico. Slater weighed more than him when he was born.






This is my favorite dog, I met him last year. He is a three year old Neopolitan Mastiff. I love all those wrinkes.






I realize this is not a dog--for some reason, there was a buffalo in the parade. He was really young, but prefectly well behaved.


This is Charlemagne, a 4 year old blue Dane. He was absolutely stunning, and huge--he weighed 210 pounds, which is too damn big, but he did not have any fat on him. He was probably the best looking Dane I have ever seen. Slater did not like him at all, which kind of put a damper on our visit and was a little embarrassing

All these dogs are so fun to see all dressed up. It is too bad that it was not today, as I could use a pick-me-up to get out of my funk now.

So that is what I have been talking about

Compliments of wordle.net

RIP Hard Rock N Haida

Ignore how stupid I look in this photo, my capri pants and lack of shoes, and God knows what else is wrong with me--my doofishness is not the point of this post. It is just the only photo I have of me riding Hard Rock N Haida--aka Hyde. He was Rock's last living baby, at almost 5 years old. Until tonight.

The next few pics were taken of him at age 4 at his trainers in Alberta, Canada--Jasen Hanson Cutting Horses.







Hyde loved cutting. If will to do it is any indication, he proves how hereditary that talent is.

I knew he would be good at it--he had everything going for him. He was sired by Haidas Little Pep--he was the second foal we had by Haida. Hyde though is the spitting image of his daddy, down to the freckle on his nose. Hyde was so laid back that he lived with his uncle Sly until he moved to Canada with his new owners just as he turned 2 years old.I got to take all these pictures last summer when we went to visit him in Canada.




Hyde was found dead tonight in his pasture. We are all devastated--he has the hopes and dreams of so many people wrapped up in him, that it twists my guts right up to even talk about it. He will be missed by so many.

RIP Hyde. You were so loved.