Hurt runs in the family. No sooner than Mirabel fully recovering from her gash does her sister Daphne suffer a deep, traumatizing cut to her paw while romping in the woods. She's now resting at home, tucked in and bandaged up.
Ribsy wishes Daphne a whippet-fast recovery. Mirabel, meanwhile, grudgingly admits that despite the wound, Daphne still looks awfully cute.
Mirabel shows off her new custom made fleece jammies from Dog-E-Designs. The brown leaf print pays homage to the woods she so dearly loves to romp in, and that she hopes to return to very, very soon.
The jammes fit like a glove, practically hermetically sealing in her warmth, and she promptly proceeded to fall asleep on the couch.
Ribsy - you remember him, right? - can't wait until all this pajama drama with Mirabel is over so that this blog can go back to more important things, like him.
Ribsy would like to say that he would like to have an injury just like his pesky sister Mirabel's. The way Girl is spending all her time looking after her, staring at her, placing her hand on her side during the night so she doesn't pick at her stitches. It's enough attention to make a surly older whippet spin with jealousy...although he doesn't envy her when she has to wear a ridiculous cone from time to time, like when Girl needs to take a shower and that sort of stuff:
The cone is necessary because Mirabel can't resist licking and picking at her injury site. But the cone doesn't fit in the crate - which is where Girl needs to leave Mirabel if she is to enjoy any sort of freedom over the next few days - and it makes for (an even more) manic Mira, who tosses her head from side to side and bashes into walls in an effort to rid herself of the plastic impediment.
The vet recommended pajamas. Sounds easy, right? Try to find a whippet pajama maker within Canada that ships quickly. Most pajamas are understandably made to order. Here's a quick rundown of the pajamadrama that's gone on for the past couple of days:
Vendor #1 - Pajamas in stock! However, the vendor is in the US and the overnight shipping fee is horrendous. Place an order anyway and hoped for the best.
Vendor #2 - Also in the US and made to order. No luck.
Vendor #3 - In Canada but is unavailable to sew right now.
Vendor #4 - In Canada but the style of the jammie still allows Mirabel to get at her injury.
With these vendors exhausted a local breeder, Jetstream Whippets (love the name) offered to kindly lend a pair of their jammies. Their whippet Talon was the same size as big Mira, so it seemed perfect - and they did fit great. However, the style of the jammies has only one opening - you guessed it - right where the hind leg meets the stomach, so these unfortunately didn't work.
Then came the out-of-the-box creativity. A message through a whippet list and a tweet asking for help yielded a host of helpful suggestions - from using a pillow case to a girl's dress to a men's t-shirt. Girl did try fashioning one of Boy's t-shirts on Mirabel, but she promptly jumped straight out of it when she spied a squirrel outside the window.
Finally, a solution was reached today.
One of Ribsy's Twitter friends, @bentleythegrey mentioned Dog-E-Designs, who are based a couple of hours away from the Hammer. Their pajama style covers Mirabel's wound, and they have a whippet pattern they can work with. Custom-made pajamas will be ready for pick-up soon.
Until those are ready, Mirabel still needed something temporary to tide her over. So Girl headed down to the department store and picked up a Little Tykes jumper in an 18-24 month size. Ironically it says "Turtle" and has a big picture of one emblazoned on the chest. With a couple of snips the jumper was able to accommodate Mirabel's chest:
Snap buttons run along the bottom up the bathroom area, allowing her tail some swishing room. Let's hope that Mirabel doesn't go all Hulk and pop the buttons right off.
Update: That little Houndini managed to rear up and get the back legs low enough that she could step on them and pull herself completely out of the PJs. Sigh.
Lesson learned: get a pair of pajamas for your whippet now, in advance, before injury should strike. That way, you have them on hand in case anything should ever happen: the furnace busts, your whippet gets hurt, it gets a rash etc. You just never know.
Mirabel is back home from surgery. It's going to be a rather slow, painful road to recovery.
Over the next while, Girl will try to limit Mira's movement - back into the crate she goes. And no going up and down the stairs, on and off the couch, on and off the bed. She also needs to get Mirabel some pajamas pronto. Unfortunately the exposed end of the BodyShirt allows an opportunity, however small it may be, for Mirabel to get at her wound. Plus, Girl has to watch and make sure that Ribsy doesn't get curious and start licking at it too. All this, and antibiotics and painkillers twice a day.
Poor Mirabel.
Here's a purposely grainy photo to show the extent of her injury. A clear shot is way too much for Girl - and probably for you - to bear.
So technically it's not Wednesday yet, but the "wounded" part of the post title will continue well into tomorrow.
Pesky Mirabel got gashed at the park tonight. Ribsy may or may not have been at fault. It happened really quickly. One moment they and a couple of other dogs were chasing after the frisbee, and the next moment a pained cry filled the air. At first, Girl thought Mirabel had just tweaked her leg, but then she lifted off her coat to reveal a rather substantial tear along the inside of her leg, with a flap of skin hanging off.
Ewww.
Off to the vet they went, and now she's scheduled to go in for surgery first thing tomorrow morning. So she was sent home wearing the dreaded cone of shame.
Here's a look at her, all bandaged up.
She was definitely not enjoying the confines of the cone.
"Help!" she begged. "Can anyone hear me in here?"
Mirabel tripped on the stairs, banged into the door, and generally was unable to maneuver around or settle down peacefully. So off came the cone and on came the wonderful, amazing, therapeutic BodyShirt from DogGoneChic.
"Ah much better," thought Mirabel.
Thank dog for this shirt. Every whippet owner seriously needs to get one! It's come in handy time and time again for its warmth, coverage and comfort.
Mirabel's now resting on her side in bed, still in pain but at least in a much more comfortable position.
Ribsy is shocked. Girl hasn't bought a single thing in the past three days. And yesterday was Boxing Day, the biggest shopping day in Canada. Every December 26th, the local news shows are peppered with stories of people (sane people?) who line up overnight at choice stores that tantalize these bargain hunters with 10-per-store door crasher specials and the like, crazies who complain about the lack of parking, and sweaty shoppers who brag about their steals, not knowing that they could have bought the exact same item at the same price the week before.
For Boy and Girl, the previous year was the big purchase of a new television set to replace their 26-inch box with the scratch in the glass (there was a permanent fly on the screen). This year Ribsy and Mirabel realized that the things they really need in their life (eg. Boy), you can't bat your big bulbous eyes and beg for Girl to whip our her credit card to purchase. You can't buy the things that truly matter. However, if there was a 75% off sale on rawhide chews, well, they are sorely disappointed that Girl did not consider their needs.
Perhaps a tiny reason behind the non-activity has got to lay with one of Girl's Christmas presents, a most satisfying gift. She was delighted to unwrap a pin of a whippet, a whippet who is a dead ringer for Ribsy:
Thanks Linda! Girl will wear it with pride.
Winnie Tam, the Vancouver-based artist behind the pin, designs pins of other whippet colors, of other dog breeds, of even - gasp - cats.
Come on, doesn't Ribsy look like the muse for this pin or what?
But really, pins and television sets aside, nothing compares to the real thing - the love and connection between people, between people and their dogs, and between dog and dog. Mirabel will be the first to admit that she missed her brother dearly when they were separated a little while ago (although she was no doubt spoiled and coddled).
And during the past few days, Ribsy and Girl have both realized that it's painful to be apart from loved ones. As much as we are programmed to covet material things in our society, there's something priceless about a simple hug, a tender kiss, a warm snuggle.
Thank goodness whippets are grade A cuddlers.
As one laugh-out-loud whippet blogger writes, "hug your hounds."
While perusing the vault for his next Wordless Whippet Wednesday entry, Ribsy became distracted by this Flickr photo:
From Flickr member thedamnmushroom
Ribsy can't believe it. Someone actually went through the trouble of crafting two signs (depicting each act of waste expulsion) for the express purpose of saving their precious lawn? In a way, aren't these graphic warnings just as unsightly as the offending feces themselves? Besides, can dogs (besides Ribsy, of course) even read?
On the other hand, dogs are fluent in "the slash". This sign was spotted in Havelock, New Zealand:
When it comes to dog control, New Zealand is very active in slash language. For instance, in Dunedin they even go as far as to emblazon their downtown sidewalks with the following:
Over in beautiful Bonhinj, Slovenia, preservationists would prefer to just lump them into the rest of the offenders, like butterfly catchers, snail pickers, and car washers. To be fair, they do earn some cred from Ribsy for the whippet-like physique of the speeding pooch:
Really, do these signs have to be so negative all the time? Why not positive reinforcement? After all, dogs were designed that way. Consider this neat and tidy depository for dogs, stationed in Budapest, Hungary. No slash in sight!
An even more courteous gesture would be to provide signage in one's native tongue. The District of North Vancouver has got this down pat:
From Flickr member Joannabriggs
However, the top dog (sign) spotted on Boy's and Girl's travels goes to this friendly reminder posted in Okayama, Japan. Apparently dogs take their pooper scoopers with them wherever they go so they can neatly clean up after their own messes.
"Ha!" Girl exclaimed. "I wish."
So. Is Ribsy the only dog out there who is mildly fascinated by these dog signs? Is Girl the only girl out there that wastes megabytes taking photographs of these dog warnings? Please say it ain't so!
Dear Readers,
Today is my 1,000th post. Granted, when it began five years ago, in 2004, I wasn't the one who was actually doing the blogging. After all, I was only 3 months old at the time. My Girl took care of the posts, and right to this day she still helps me compose my thoughts and upload my photos. It really is her blog as much as it is mine (and lately, my pesky sister's too, but that's another saga on its own).
So when my Girl confided that she didn't know if she wanted to continue the Snippets past its 1,000th post, I listened in concern. I can't do this on my own. I need her as much as she needs my life and antics to write about. Plus, I didn't know how much longer I wanted to keep going, either. I'm slowing down, getting surly, and enjoying sleep a lot more than I used to, and figure that regaling you with entries about my sleep positions, locations and dreams (usually chasing a squirrel) doesn't rank too high on the excitement scale.
But then I asked her, wouldn't you miss it if you stopped? I reminded her of the fine bloggers that she's met over the years, the helpful dog-raising information she has learned, and the amazing community of whippet lovers who have dropped in to say hello and give us virtual pats on our hands.
She paused. Then sighed. And in a weary voice, said, "Ribsy, I think I need to write a guest post."
Here it is below.
Love,
Ribsy
****
Honestly, I never thought I'd still be here today, helping Ribsy with his blog. It all started out quite innocently, as a way to journal our adventures in our new house with our new puppy.
Since our first entry, Boy, Ribsy & I have moved to a new city, changed addresses three times, and picked up another whippet. Ribsy has endured his share of unsightly gashes, an airplane ride across the country, a maddening case of separation anxiety, and an even more maddening sister.
But more importantly, Ribsy has opened our eyes to a new way of seeing things. From the dog's point of view, I've learned to enjoy the outdoors, to revel in the simple pleasures of life, and to truly understand the meaning of unconditional love.
There were plenty of bad days to go along with the good ones. And no matter what the circumstances were, no matter how negatively poisoned the air seemed to be, Ribsy was consistent in his affection. The loyalty was unwavering, from the gentle nudge of his snout to his half-turn-to-flop by our side. He always knew what to do to soften the stillness and comfort the hurt.
Ribsy is my best friend.
I feel we've both grown to need each other more than ever, but that we've both outgrown the intentions of this blog. He's no longer a puppy, and me, I'm no longer an aspiring writer. Neither silly dog antics nor cleverly-crafted summaries of such antics happen around here anymore.
Sure Mirabel could step into Ribsy's paws and more than fulfill the 'silly dog antics' role, but the heart of the Snippets has been and always will be Ribsy. His heart and his devotion remains unquestioned, but his lifestyle and my desire to write, have changed enormously.
After 1,000 posts, what more could I possibly seek to accomplish through this blog? Occasionally, I do get excited about posting, but for the most part, I wonder who is even reading this, and what they are thinking if and when they do so. I don't want to let anyone down by shutting the blog down, but then again, I am even more afraid of disappointing the few readers that I do have, with continued poor-quality, mundane, and pointless posts.
I am struggling. I am fatigued. And I am fearful of burdening the blogosphere. Or floating in it, listless and without purpose. There must be a reason for the Snippets. And until I find the right one that re-ignites the passion, I won't be back.
Off to hug my best friend. And his pesky sister.
Thank you to everyone who has visited and commented over the years. We really, really couldn't have continued this blog without your support.
Sincerely,
Ribsy's Girl
Here's a lazy autumnal post by Ribsy, just to let you know that he's still around. He just hasn't felt like blogging lately. Two reasons come to mind. 1) He really misses Boy; and 2) He doesn't have anything to talk about.
Mirabel is slowly getting better. Turns out she has a seasonal allergy to something growing in the woods. So she's getting mild oatmeal baths, ointment, and a dosage of tiny pink pills to take away the rash.
During her trip to the vet, Mira checked in at a whopping 37 pounds. She now outweighs Ribsy by 3 pounds.
"She doesn't look fat!" Girl exclaimed in surprise to the vet. "Where does it all go?"
The vet gently squeezed her thighs and bum. "I think it's all in here."
Mirabel:
Ribsy:
Hmm. Girl thinks the vet is right. Here's Mirabel from another angle:
According to the American Kennel Club standard, the whippet hindquarters should be as follows:
Long and powerful. The thighs are broad and muscular, stifles well bent; muscles are long and flat and carry well down toward the hock. The hocks are well let down and close to the ground. Sickle or cow hocks should be strictly penalized.
Whatever, thought Mirabel. She likes her body just the way it is. Fast enough to catch a squirrel and powerful enough to knock over wimpy brothers.
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