dog · epilepsy · fur babies · pets · stress


We have a 2 year old dog named Penny Lane. She’s quite gorgeous and one of the most loving pups you could ever meet.

My husband calls her “lovey dovey puppy”. He loves her-a lot. She loves him, too.

I love her even though her puppy years which included tormenting our cat were kinda annoying.

But that’s all settled down.

Even the cat loves her now. I’m always delighted when I see them sleeping on a bed together or when they pass each other in a hallway and bonk heads together as a gesture of friendship.

Of course, if this was the whole story and we could all ride off into the sunset together, that’d be great!

But there’s a crappy part:

Penny has epilepsy.

It started last October with a series of big seizures in a row one night that sent us flying off to the vet. We had no idea what was happening. We’ve never had a dog have seizures before. Penny was put on phenobarbital and we hoped that was the end of that.

Of course it wasn’t.

It seems like she goes for a month seizure-free, then she has a cluster of them, usually on a Sunday when the vet is closed.

Since October, her medication has been upped 4 times. Just this past weekend, after one big seizure and a few small ones, we added a 3rd capsule of zonisamide.

I’m getting ready to call her vet again when they open in 15 minutes.

She had a little seizure this morning as we laid in bed together. At the time she was curled up against me, cuddling away. It made me feel horrible when it happened, but glad I was there to soothe her. Shortly after, we took a brisk walk around the block where she basically dragged me. Then we played fetch for a while in the yard. She liked that.

Thankfully now she is sleeping peacefully. But I’m on guard that another seizure might come out of nowhere.

These seizures, they tell us, don’t hurt her. She emerges from them discombobulated but then bounces back pretty quickly.

The seizures make my pelvic floor clench up from stress. They make my husband’s stomach flare up with stress. And our cat overgrooms like crazy every time a seizure happens.

Poor kitty is freaked out. Because she loves her dog sister.

Anyway, I just wanted to write about this portion of our lives lately. It’s been a real string of pure crap lately, for whatever reason.

Hopefully we’ll be getting some excellent help for our pretty Miss Penny Lane here soon. Wish us luck.

Want to see a picture of her?

Hang on to your hats–she’s pretty adorable.

Bill and Titters and I think she’s “the bomb”.

Here ya go:

empty-nesters · grown children · home redecorating · homeschooling · music · owning a business · pets · summer of love · tattoos · turning 50 · writing

light my fire

Hi there. And welcome.

You’ve gone and stumbled upon what I like to call “my new blog”.

I used to have a blog I loved writing not too long ago. I had to give it up, though, because we got a new puppy last February, and let me tell you–my life turned upside down when we brought her home. After having our old dog (she passed away) for so long, who was a complete gem and totally easy to care for, having a puppy in the house again was rather overwhelming. I was frustrated a lot by all of my free time things I liked to do–blogging being one of them–having to go by the wayside in exchange for puppyhood antics and basic training.

But give my hobbies up I did. I’m happy to report that puppy has turned 1 and life in our home has settled considerably and things have kinda gone back to normal.

So now I’m back and ready to write stuff I have no idea anybody besides me will care too much about.

But let’s give it another whirl, shall we?

Here’s a fun twist. Along with my new calmer life and fresh start to my blogging career, I am adding the fun-filled event of turning 50 years old to my line up of things to do this year.

You heard me right–50.

In July.

I am a Summer of Love baby (hence the blog name). I dig that about myself. But now here I am, getting ready to click over to an age that kinda freaks me out. I’ve never been freaked out by aging before now. In fact, I love my birthday. I love all birthdays. After we meet, I will remember your birthday way before I remember your name. I like to make big whoop-dee-doos over birthdays.

This one I find myself dreaded months way ahead.

Friends and family I’ve discussed this with blow off my apprehension and tell me–Oh, you’re young!! Well, okay…I know I’m not like 90 or anything, but I still feel like 50 is a number to be reckoned with. You can’t really claim being “young” anymore after you’ve hit the big 5-0. And, truth be told, my body is starting to pull shit on me. Painful heel, knee twinges, backaches. That kind of stuff.

Let me tell you a story real quick:

This past Saturday I went shopping and as I made my way into Macy’s, my shoelaces weren’t tied very tight and my (painful) heels were slipping around in my shoes. I found myself thinking–I hope when I get in this place there’s somewhere I can sit so I can retie my shoes.

I’ve never had to consider pre-planned sitting before. I mean, not for myself at least. And don’t you know, there was nowhere to sit inside the store doors. So I thought-screw it…I’m going to bend down and tie these shoes. I can do it!

There was an older lady standing there putting on her coat and gloves and scarf. I thought, okay–if I get stuck on the floor she can help me. So I crouched and started untying and retying. It took some effort on my part, but I did it. Then I was off and shopping and it all worked out okay.

But what the hell was that?!

I’ll tell you what that was.

That was me…hot on the heels of 50.

So yeh. These are the kinds of stories I plan on telling here.

Admit it.. you’re hooked, aren’t you.

If you’re not totally convinced yet, here’s a little more insight about me and the kind of stuff you might find me discussing here…

I made my career out of being a stay-at-home mom with our 2 kids. We homeschooled with the exception of the one year our son attended kindergarten. After that, we took off on our own. Those were some great-ass years. I was a really good mom. I still am, I guess, but the kids are grown now. They only need me here and there, and that’s good–the way it should be, you know? Hubby of 100 years and I are now empty-nesters. We own a small business we started on a shoestring. My husband runs that operation with some help from me. It’s just the two of us and has been for the past 14 years. We’ve lived in our house, which is tiny and adorable and really fun to redecorate and keep uncommonly immaculate now that there are no children around, for the past 24 years. We have pets I will more than likely mention way more than most people might enjoy. But what can I say, we think those furballs are the shit. My husband is a guitar player. I like to think someday I’ll write something good enough to make it on to a bookstore shelf. I’m covered in tattoos, love clothes and music and books and am hellbent on feeling as young as I can for as long as I can.

Which brings us back to that whole turning 50 thing. Remember?

I definitely remember.

All right. If you’ve read this whole thing I’d like to say thank you. Come back again if you want. Say hi.

I’m going to go fill up my coffee cup again and take a cruise around to see if I can find some interesting other blogs to read.

It feels good to be back. 🙂

Til next time, please enjoy this rockin’ tune–the Doors’ mega-hit that was #1 song on the charts the day I was born.

Pretty appropriate for a Summer of Love baby, don’t you think?