Monday, July 26, 2010

Crazy Cat Lady Takes The Collie To The Vet




this is sierra. sierra is my collie-in-law. she's an exceptionally sweet dog, who's content to lay outside in the grassy shade all day. sierra lives a relatively quiet life...or at least she did. until the incident.

my in-laws were leaving town for a week or so. when they asked if we would dog-sit, i was looking forward to it. despite being a self proclaimed crazy cat lady, i knew sierra to be sweet and obedient. the hardest thing i would have to do was bring her inside for the evening. piece of cake!

until...the incident.

in true pet form, once sierra became aware of the fact that her family was leaving, she started limping. she's 10, so we expected some form of arthritis. but she was really having trouble walking around. so, my in-laws left us a few blank checks and a credit card (look for upcoming blog update, "sarah and matt go to cabo and laugh at his parents") in case we needed to take her to the vet. our theory was, if she didn't get better in a few days, we'd take her to the vet.

matt and i debated whether or not she was doing better, ending with a discussion that naturally, i won.

the only problem is...he had to work. which meant, me, sarah, the crazy cat lady of lomita, had to take a dog to the vet. not just a dog, a BIG DOG. which, when you own a 10 pound cat, anything bigger than a yorkie is a BIG DOG.

matt made the appointment and asked if i could handle it. "sure, no problem!" i said. "sierra and i like each other! she's a good dog! shouldn't be too hard."

as her appointment time got closer, i started to realize a few key things.

1. sierra had never been in my car.
2. i have a small car.
3. sierra would have to ride in my small car.
4. i am allergic to dogs.

okay, no big deal. i cleared out the backseat. it looked like it would be too narrow for her to lay down on, so i had a brilliant stroke of genius. i laid my passenger seat alllll the way back. that way, she could hang out there, and it would be plenty big enough for a BIG DOG to ride in.

i showed up at the house, and grabbed her leash. i went into the backyard, keeping my voice light and cheery, to give us both confidence.

me: sierra! want to go for a car ride?

the collie got up slowly, and walked over, excited to see her leash. i clipped it on. "this is sooo easy." i thought.

"okay, let's go the the car." sierra looked around for matt. "no, matt's not here, kiddo. it's just you and me." i said.

the collie looked at me.
i looked at the collie.

"i know." i said. "but today i'm all you've got, so we have to make this work."

i led her to the car. i opened the passenger door, so she could climb into the reclined seat.

the collie looked at me.
i looked at the collie.

"come on, sierra!" i said. "let's take a ride!"

no dice.

okay, i thought. my sister in law carried her home once, how heavy could she be? so i reached around the collie. she stiffened. i heaved her into the car.

the collie looked at me.
i looked at the collie.

"well...okay." i said. neither one of us was very happy, but away we went.

i got in the drivers side and turned to look at sierra. but there was no sierra. "collie girl?" i asked.

she had jumped out of the passenger seat onto the floor behind my seat, and was hanging half on and half off of the backseat.

"oh, for heaven's sake." i said. "fine. you want to ride back there? here, i'll put the seat back up and give you more room."

the whole ride over, she nervously tried to arrange herself in the backseat.

i kept trying to talk her into sitting still, but we both knew that wasn't going to happen.

finally, she got herself adjusted....just as i made the turn into the parking lot at the vet.

i went around to the back to open the door for her. i held her leash.

i looked at the collie.
the collie looked at the ground.
the collie looked at me.

"heave ho, huh?" i asked. "well, come on!"

i lifted the collie out of the car, deducing that my sister in law must be a secret bodybuilder.

we walked into the vet's office. as i approached the counter, i felt a huge tug coming from the leash that spun me in my place. sierra had had enough, and was trying to get out the front door.

i turned back around, and explained who i was. and by "explained who i was", i mean that i rambled on and on for ten minutes about how i was just the daughter in law and this was my first time bringing a dog to the vet and my mother in law left me some checks and she should have called and set it all up.

they handed me forms to fill out.

skin? um....it's under the fur.
coat? no thanks, it's summer.
food? she has some.
what kind of food? ooh! i know this! crunchy.

meanwhile, sierra was trying to use her beauty to bribe her way out of the office. i filled out the paperwork as best as i could. i sat down, and sierra walked over and rested her head in my lap.

"awwww...." i said, just as we were called in.

"first we have to weigh her!" chirped the chipper vet assistant. "just have her stand here on the scale."

i looked at sierra.
i looked at the scale.
sierra looked at the scale.

i tried to lead her onto the scale. she walked across it and stood with her front paws on the ground. "let's back up!" said the oh so happy assistant.

"back up, sierra!" she said again.

we were greeted with the same stony stare.

we finally managed to convince sierra to stand on the scale, and they got her weight. we were led in to a small exam room and told to wait.

i was feeling restless, so i started reading brochures about parasites and vaccinations. i took a picture with my phone camera of the no cell phones sign. i started to diagnose myself with feline leukemia when the vet came in the room.

"well hey there sierra! where's your mom today?"

i began the same ranting ramble that i performed for the assistants at the check in desk.

the vet started feeling sierra up.

"okay," he said, "let's get her temperature."

the assistant came in with these:




and i turned pale and saw spots. sierra had no idea what she was in for until it was too late. below is a representation of what she looked like at the moment of entry:



it was like this, but you could hear her soul screaming. or maybe that was just me.

after an awkward minute of me staring at the wall and yoga breathing while sierra gently tilted her hips to the left until they almost reached the floor in an effort to get away from the lubed thermometer, the vet came back in.

"okay. let's all take some x-rays!" he said.

relieved, i stood up and grabbed my purse.

"um, not you." he laughed. "just the dog."

after they left, i bitterly sat and texted people. why am i not good enough for an x-ray?? maybe i'm bored and want one! geez! you don't just go using language like "ALL" and then not include someone! rude.

they brought her back in, and sent us off with a new bottle of pills.

we performed the car ritual backwards (and me in high heels --call me ginger!) and sierra got to go back home to her breezy backyard.

Friday, July 9, 2010

The Electric Clog Incident:

or: why I am a one-woman death machine.

by sarah.

thursday was just one of those days. nothing seemed to be going right. i overslept to the point that it made me cranky, i couldn't find my left shoe. also, i'm almost out of hair product.

you know. those days.

the afternoon ran pretty smoothly, until i got home from visiting my dad. the sink had clogged up, and my friends, drain-o wasn't cutting it. we tried hot water. we tried sitting and ignoring it. nada. it was just me, my tall roommate, my alabama roommate, three cats, and one very nasty clogged sink.

in what ended up being a battle of epic proportions, we managed to tear the sink apart, use all of our junk towels, and spread a fine puddle of chemical and smut filled water around the kitchen.

it was an hours long project that was only ended by the purchase of an augger, which is clearly and blatantly a name someone made up for the drain snakey thing.

life was looking up by the time we finished. we had finally dried off the floor of the kitchen and the cupboard underneath the sink, and the dishes were being run through the dishwasher. we felt productive and handy.

now, i think we can all agree that i am a very sane and logical person who is no good at segues. and like any sane and logical person, sometimes i need to answer the call of nature. (see, i told you i was no good at segues.)

i was sitting there, minding my own business, when suddenly, all five of the lightbulbs above the bathroom mirror blinked off. i could still see light under the door, so like any sane and logical person, i stood, composed myself, and took a deep breath. for i, sarah, the sane and logical, knew exactly what had caused this mysterious blackout in the bathroom...

"a blown fuse?" you ask?

no, kind and gentle stranger.

it was clearly A SERIAL KILLER IN MY SHOWER.





i flung open the shower door. no effing way was this serial killer going to kill me IN MY OWN BATHROOM. that's just rude, you know?

so i did the next logical thing...

i let my ninja instincts take over.


this is a rough approximation of what i transformed into.

slamming open the shower doors, i held my hands in what can only be described as a "karate chop" position. "HI-YAH!" i bellowed, as i let loose with a mind numbingly awesome demonstration of "skillz."

it looked a little like this:



only much more fearsome and NINJESQUE.

dashitall, my serial killer friend had gotten away...

"sarah, aren't you embarrassed that you karate chopped and kicked at nothing?" you may be asking.

the answer is no, foolish mortal, i'm not. because even if i DO ever get attacked by a serial killer, at least i know i'll go down with a fight. (or looking completely, totally, batshit crazy.)

NEXT TIME, WE DANCE, SERIAL KILLER. NEXT TIME.

(please play the video below, and join me as we rejoice in my kicking the ass of a serial killer.)


Monday, July 5, 2010

Crock of Love

dear crockpot,

from the beginning, it's been magic. the heat we create, the chemistry...

remember the barbequed chicken i made? so sassy and sweet...like you.

and the mac n cheese? so warm and comforting...like you.

and the pulled pork? so meaty and shredded...like...well, like a juicehead.

but i digress.

crockpot, since you came into my life, i have had time to not only cook dinner, but to update my blog, and unpack boxes! i can do laundry, and i can feed three growing boys ranging in ages from 22 - 30!

remember when we went to that little cabin in the woods, and found the sweetest tree swing, and i showed you how i could rotate my head completely to the back, a la linda blair? thank god that lumberjack was there to take our picture!




and then, when we went to that nude beach on spring break in college? i did that head thing again. that lifeguard thought you were such a hoot!

watch those hands, mr.!!


we've been inseparable since the day we moved in together:



oh crockpot, you so crazy. i want to have your crock-babies.


(pics were helpfully edited by my fiance matt, because i sat down to do it, and his computer was like, "bitch please." and i was like, "who are you calling a bitch, bitch?" and it said "you!" and i was all, "oh. well then." and then i cried so matt helped the end by sarah.)