Click images for desktop size: "Lilac Swamp" by Unknown A full week of bad pain.
The Tylenol and 800 mg of ibuprofen seem to bring it into manageable lengths. I'm still keeping my good humour. Still laughing at the antics of my crazy dogs.
Forced myself to stay in bed until 6:30. Got up several times during the night. Only once did I meditate about taking some of the neuropathic pain killers.
No denying the things work but they disconnect me so far from life that the pain relief is scarcely worth it. Its a relief though to know that the scary pills exist. If it gets to the point of being unendurable its a viable method of last resort. I notice that the
Click images for desktop size: "Babe" by BJ pain pills contain a mood elevator. I don't know if that's smart or drug company arrogant.
The last resort being when I think that the pain is going to make me mad, when it becomes a force so great that it threatens to overwhelm, when all life becomes just a gray wall of deadening pain. Or when I find I can't laugh at the antics of the dogs.
When I had back surgery they gave me a morphine pump for when the pain got to bad. I'm still scared of addictive drugs, scared a lot. It was nice holding the little plunger button in my hand. It felt like I had a way out. When the pain would stab me I'd clench it tight, but I never used it. I figure it did its job well. I'd do well with placebos.
The dogs have been hysterical as of late. Especially the giant dog.
This morning there were two cats under the deck. One is a cat who lives here but the other was a huge gray and white big headed cat. I think I'd seen it skulking around in that cat fashion but I don't notice cats enough to say for sure. I only recognize our cat because it wears a bell.

Click images for desktop size: "Nebula X4" by Hunzonian This big headed cat was driving all three guys crazy! My puppy crawled under the deck so she could growl at it and at least remove some of its cat smugness.
The space under the deck is about 24 inches not counting the support beams. My puppy can crawl under it on her belly.
The giant dog thought she was getting more than her fair share of barking in so he crawled under the deck too . . . in about two minutes he was whining so I had to crawl under the deck to help pull him out.
My puppy resented me entering her "private" club house and looked me in the eye while she crawled out. The giant dog kept licking me gratefully while I tugged him around. (I still don't like dogs licking me.)
Finally got him pulled free, so of course since it was safe he went right back under. Got stuck again . . . I pulled him out again.
He thought this was a good game and plunged right back in.
I was aggravated, crawling around in damp dirt isn't much fun. Really, its not, for me anyway.
When he started to whimper this time I decided to ignore him. Of course the other two dogs where running back and forth the outside of the deck trying to find a gap big enough to stick their noses into and worry the smug big headed cat. They were amusing too and didn't require me brushing cobwebs out of my hair.
Suddenly the giant dong slunk out from under the deck. It looked like the thousand clown coming out of that little car.
The giant dog was angry and angry with me. I didn't understand the game very well, not well enough to suit him.
He ignored the other two running back and forth and came over and stared at me. His tail was not wagging. He then turned around and went back under the deck. After a minute you could hear him happily barking at the big headed cat then he emitted a long anguished howl and then a sharp staccato series of whines and yips.
I'm not that hard hearted yet so I had to crawl back under the deck. Once again the giant dog was ecstatically pleased to be rescued. His whole body was trembling with pleasure.
I'd finished my morning routine outside and was heading inside. The other two eagerly followed. The final part of the morning routine is breakfast treats. The giant dog watched us head in quietly and then turned around and went back under the deck!
I called him. He ignored me. Being a mature human I decided to ignore him in return.
We went inside. I decided to not give the two other dogs their treat yet. I have it in my head that they all get their treats at the same time. Prevents jealousy and, more importantly, it cuts back on some of the treat stealing that my puppy is the main perpetrator of.
After a few minutes I felt guilty and went to the door to go rescue the giant dog. He was standing at the door, not even deigning to scratch as usual. He was angry.

Click images for desktop size: "Sheltering Oaks" Maxfield Parrish He came inside. He wasn't even going to take his treat, He refused to sit!
The dogs always sit before they get their treat. My puppy always sits right in front of me and pokes me with her nose in case I'm particularly stupid that day and don't notice that she's sitting right in front of me.
The gentle dog sat and got his treat but the giant dog just glared at me. He couldn't believe I left him there to suffer!
He refused his treat! Aggravated I poked it into his mouth. He just let it fall to the floor still glaring at me! Of course my puppy knows the sound of a treat hitting the floor, she was on it like a shot. It took her a couple of seconds to figure out how to keep her treat in her mouth while picking up the giant dog's.
As soon as she had it she ran out of the room and the giant dog panicked. I had to go to my puppy and ask her to give me back the giant dog's treat. She did so with poorly concealed bad humour.
The giant dog was happy and took his treat and danced around with it proudly.
And that's my boring dog story of the day.
I have a million of them . . . Every minute they amaze and amuse me.

I have discovered that the real reason for the desperate push for the White House wasn't a mad lust for power by the Democrats. It was so the candidates could get them some dogs!
My friend read me a story this morning about how Biden's wife said he could have a dog if he got to the White House! Biden kept pictures of his dream dogs pasted to the back of the seat in front of him on the plane as an inspiration to him when he grew weary of the campaign trail!
His wife has tried to hedge her bets and claim that her intention was that if Biden got to be President then he could get his big dog!
Biden is sticking to the letter of her proclamation and stating that the White House is the White House even as Vice President.
Well done! And an excellent reason to seek high office. If he'd told the story abut his need to win the election to get his dog I'd have had no problem campaigning for him!
I'm getting bombarded with emails urging me to sign petitions for Obama to get different kinds of dogs. I liked that he mentioned getting the dog in his acceptance speech.
The emails are urging this breed or that breed. I have sympathy for the petitions urging him to get a shelter pup. But I still think that choosing a family member who is going to live with you is an incredibly personal choice. I don't think he or his kids should be influenced by the outside. Although I do think that Belgian Shepherds have a keen understanding of economics and fighting! They are also protective and good at looking after you when you're up late at night. I think that Obama will be pulling quite a few all nighters, especially at first.
Whatever dog they choose I'm mainly pleased that they'll be two dogs in the White House. Between them I figure two dogs can get this country running in the right direction!
Its been three days now since Obama and Biden were elected.
Aside from the vital issues of dogs and dog procurement I remain disappointed . . .

Click images for desktop size: "6" by Nemets The disappointment line is one I copped from Rudy Vallee and the movie "How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying". The first example of a weird how-to book being successfully realized as a musical! Since it was a hit we've had to endure scads of bad movies trying to capture that same lightening.
Anyway Robert Morse (who I met when I was doing sound for my friend, when Tobe was directing a Christmas play at the Pasadena Play House - Morse played the toymaker and he is as pleasantly crazy as I'd ever wished for) decides to advance his career he needs to move into advertising. Rudy Vallee (who I saw perform at his church - I got to shake his hand - a thrill for me as I was a fan because of this film and "Palm Beach Story" - Valle was cool, ancient but so very cool) the president of the company talks about his trouble with advertising but against his wishes, because Vallee likes Morse, he gives him the job.
As they end the conversation, about two minutes later Vallee says, "Finch, now that you're the Vice President of advertising I have to say that, so far, I m very disappointed in what I've seen!"
Whenever I steal a joke that I really like no one ever gets it . . .
At least my puppy looks at me with a look at deep pity and then insists that I listen to hundreds of her "better" jokes . . .