It looks like we're in for a nice, long spring, with not as much heat and humidity in southeast Louisiana -- Pierre C. Shadeaux didn't see his shadow this morning!
The absence of a rodent shadow is much better than in 2011 when Punxatawney Phil and Pierre had differing experiences and we had a miserable summer.
In the next few hours, we have to decide if we want to hop the streetcar and descend into the madness that has become downtown New Orleans on the Saturday before Super Bowl; driving the car and finding a parking place are out of the question. I think I vote "no."
Our puppy, Roux's Mystic Muse ("Mysti"), is up to 29 pounds. She's long, lean, and fearless. Bouie had some follow-up blood work done this week and he got a clean bill of health! The infection has even cleared up! It's so good to see our boy feeling good and back to his old precious self.
Since we're having this Super Bowl thing here (without the Saints, so who cares?), Carnival parades in Orleans Parish were divided this year -- we started last weekend, a week early, and the second week of parades rolls starting this coming Wednesday. Think happy thoughts for good weather!
Speaking of the Super Bowl, NFL Commissioner Roger Gooddell (aka, Satan) is actually planning to set foot in New Orleans! If I were him, I'd wear a flak jacket and bring a food taster. Of course, there might not even be a need for a food taster -- there are signs like this posted in food establishments all over town:
Perhaps he should pack a supply of MREs. Or just starve to death in a city known for its cuisine.
The President now claims to be a skeet shooter, and to verify said claim, the spin factory in the White House released this photo today:
My first reaction -- he even shoots like a girl. Second thought? Photo shop. Next? He needs to do a little work on those arms with Michelle's personal trainer. And what's up with that plume heading off to the right? But after seeing with my own eyes evidence of what a gun-toting sportsman the Young President is, I feel certain, and secure in the knowledge, that he would do nothing to jeopardize the Second Amendment.
When I wrote the blog postabout Bouie, our Christmas Miracle, that detailed his scary encounter with antifreeze and the treatment to save him, we didn't know that we hadn't yet finished our put-Little Rock-veterinarians-into-the-black Holiday Tour.
That post was written on December 22nd. Bouie continued to improve, although he was a little weak. I couldn't help but smile every time I looked at him. The Christmas blizzard hit and all the dogs had a ball romping in the snow (except for Pippi who is a little princess and doesn't like to get her paws wet, much less wet and cold!). The power outage continued and we were glad to have four dogs to cuddle up.
Then the morning of Friday, December 28th arrived.
I had left the family room where the fireplace is located after Pepper got up and active with the dogs. I planned to catch a little nap bundled up in the bed when I heard Pepper cussing, so I went to see what the trouble was. He was pacing and trying to reach Vet #2 on the phone -- Bouie was droopy, obviously not feeling well. He hadn't touched his breakfast. He didn't seem to be as bad as on the 16th, but something was definitely wrong.
Neither of us would say it aloud, but we were both terrified that his kidneys were failing. And once organ failure sets in . . . .
The vet didn't answer the phone. I figured their power was out, too, so I called Younger Daughter's vet -- they had power in that neighborhood. I explained what was going on and asked if they could see Bouie; they said to bring him right in. I scribbled some phone numbers -- the Emergency vet's, our vet's in New Orleans, and Vet #2's -- on a scrap of paper so that Vet #3 could access Bou's records if need be, and Pepper took off, a look of defeat clouding his face. I didn't hear from him for a couple of hours.
In the meantime, my Daddy called, telling me that he couldn't get warm and that he finally would agree to go to Younger Daughter's house. I got dressed and headed to his house, calling Pepper en route. Bouie had a fever, and that could be good news. He was waiting to hear test results at YD's, but was clearly in better, if guarded, spirits.
After getting Daddy packed up, transported, and settled in at YD's with some warm Wendy's chili in his tummy, I took my first shower in days! It's amazing what clean hair can do for the disposition.
When Vet #3 finally called, well after 5:00 p.m., she had very good news! Bouie's organ function tests came back perfectly normal -- there was no failure! Other bloodwork showed infection, and infection can be treated! She was going to start him on antibiotics, but wanted to keep him overnight for observation -- test results for specific bacteria wouldn't be available until mid-week due to the New Year's holiday and weather. (And, yes, the bloodwork was done at the Baptist Hospital lab, a place I used to think was only for people!) We were to call Saturday morning after 8:00 and Bouie would probably be discharged!
Palpable relief!!!
We spent the night lonely for our boy, but hopeful that our veterinary saga was nearing its end. Pepper called at the stroke of 0800, and was out the door to collect Bouie in a flash!
Meanwhile, Elder Daughter's boxer, Tyson, who had been making sounds like a whooping crane was trying to get out of his belly for several days, continued to whoop, even though we had started him on leftover antibiotics days earlier at ED's direction. About the time Pepper was getting home with a much-improved and hungry Bouie, Vet #2 texted in response to a message I'd left about Tyson two days before. I called the number advised by the text and got ready to take Tyson to Vet #2.
A few hours later, I brought hot coffee, Tyson, and a load of antibiotics to join the canine pharmacy belonging to Bouie. We enjoyed a family reunion unlike any before, and hopefully unlike any ever again.
Daddy's power came back on; ED returned home while I was re-settling Daddy. Pepper got a hotel room and planned with SIL#1 how to take care of the dogs while we stayed warm. I was packing to join them at the hotel when, POW!! The lights came back on! And stayed on!
December 29, 2012, was a very good day.
This is what Bouie looked like during his hangover on December 19th as I drove him home:
Is that a goofy, drunk dog or what! And here are a few more happy dog pics taken after that very good day that warm my heart. Say hello to Grandson Jack on New Year's Eve! Hi, ho, Bouie!
Watching Dad do some stuff outside without any dogs.
Feeling better.
Mysti was very happy that Bouie was home.
Life is good in Moogie's World.
But, you don't want to know how much we spent on vet bills in a mere two weeks' time.
So. The power was finally restored at Elder Daughter's house at about 7:00 Saturday evening (December 29th) just as I was packing to join Pepper, ED, and grandson, Jack, in a toasty warm hotel room. It was so nice to sleep in the bedroom in only one layer of clothing!
The last of the snow finally melted as puppy Mysti and I set out for home on January 2nd. Pepper and Bouie had preceded us on New Year's Day. This was Mysti's MO for the first 1 1/2 hours of the 7 hour trip home:
It's a good thing she's cute.
On January 3rd, I leapt with both feet into the next project -- the "something else kinda exciting" I alluded to in my December 14th post. So, prepare to be dazzled.
Regular blog buddies know that I rarely post pictures of Moogie. I'm not skittish about posting embarrassing pictures of the family and the pets, but since I'm more often than not the one taking the pics, I just usually stay in the background.
Not in this post.
Moogie belongs to several Carnival organizations, commonly know as "Krewes," such as Muses, Eggs, and CAMAN. The Krewe of CAMAN is attached to the Military Officers Wives Club of Greater New Orleans (MOWC), and it entertains members and their guests with an annual Ball during Carnival season -- but it's a fun ball, and not stuffy like the balls put on by some other stuffy Krewes who shall remain nameless, but you know who you are. Even so, most "fun" balls still adhere to a few Carnival traditions, such as a Second Line at midnight with King Cake, and royalty.
Every November, the MOWC holds its "Royal Dinner," the highlight of which is selection of the CAMAN royalty for the upcoming Ball. Members who have put their names in the hat when registering at the first event of the year (actually, they've put their names in a velvet drawstring bag) watch as one name is drawn from each bag assigned to the Coast Guard, Army, Marines, Air Force, and Navy (see where CAMAN comes from now!). Those five lucky ladies are crowned and will serve for the next year as the Maids representing their service. Then, one name and one alternate are drawn from the King's and Queen's bags, but those names are kept secret until the night of the ball. The Queen unmasks as her name is announced when she makes her grand entrance to the ballroom for her promenade before dinner is served.
Getting excited yet?
You may now bow or curtsy as you find yourself in the presence of Royalty, her royal highness Moogie, Queen CAMAN XL!
(That's XL as in fortieth, not as in "extra large." Just sayin'.)
You may have guessed that the 2013 ball's theme was "Hats Off to Paris."
Here's the rest of the court and some fun stuff:
The King makes his entrance (minus his tunic and tights because his wife had left them at home).
Q-XL and her King bestow favors on Distinguished Guests.
The promenade.
Unmasking the King (who ultimately had to break his mask because his wife had tied it to his crown and I couldn't get it unknotted).
Pepper makes a pretty handsome Consort, doesn't he?
Elder Daughter was even able to fly down and attend the Ball! It was such a treat to show her off. Can you believe she had a baby just five months ago? (And, no, your eyes aren't deceiving you. The Queen arrives at the Ball in a different dress than she wears for her coronation. We must throw the rabble off the scent, don't you know. My tailor had failed to hem the dress I planned to wear as the deception, but, fortunately I had this ancient dress -- and could still get into it!)
This is a color version of the shot published in the Times-Picayune, together with an article about the Ball:
The excitement continued as the Court and Ball Committee celebrated with an after party during which everyone exchanged gifts and let their hair down. I think I finally closed my eyes at about 0300.
And there was more excitement to come. We all planned to meet at about 9:30 Sunday morning to share the Hyatt's brunch. At 9:25, two friends, Pepper, five twenty-somethings toting backpacks, and Queen Moogie, wearing her crown of course, boarded Elevator E on Floor 21 and headed for the lobby. Until we got to about the seventh floor. That's where the elevator decided to stop and display XX as its location.
Fortunately, the elevator had one glass wall that overlooked outdoors, so claustrophobia didn't get a good toehold, but nine folks in an elevator car generate an unexpected amount of heat. It's not a good thing for royalty to let her subjects see her perspire, so let's just refer to it as "the royal aura."
Following some 45 minutes, and several conversations with a member of the Hyatt's management staff who introduced himself from the other side of the tightly-closed elevator door as "Ben," maintenance finally loosened the door and we were helped out of the car that had stopped about 2 feet below the floor, and escorted by several members of management to the restaurant where our breakfast was comped.
What a memory for our last Carnival season living in New Orleans! (Hopefully).
I'm still recovering four days later.
I'll probably be working this in an obnoxious manner for quite some time. Be forewarned.
We are in Little Rock taking care of Elder Daughter's pups while she and family visit her in-laws in Dallas. Christmas Eve was wild and crazy at The Son's with duck gumbo, chili, ham, turkey, and 3 "grand crazies," as Pepper's first wife calls them. Christmas morning was calm at my Daddy's with Younger Daughter and SIL#2 with traditional Christmas Brunch Casserole, cheese grits, fruit, and cinnamon toast (since I forgot to buy Pillsbury cinnamon rolls). I think we may stick with toast in the future -- it was pretty good!
Then we hot-footed it back to ED's house as the freezing rain and sleet began to fall.
It changed over to heavy snow (even some thunder snow!) in late afternoon and kept falling steadily until the wee hours of the morning. There were already a good six inches at 9:00, when the power went out. All told, we have between 10 and 12"! A genuine White Christmas!
That was 2 days ago. There is a huge snowball fight going on across the cul de sac as I type. In my car. While I charge my phone. Because the power is still out and not expected to be restored for days yet.
The thermostat now shows 49. At least there's a gas fireplace and a full propane tank on the grill. I built, and Pepper cooked, tomato soup and grilled ham and cheese for dinner last night. It was pretty good! He warmed water this morning for coffee and spit baths. Not quite so good.
I've decided to decree that 2012 is now officially Moogie's Grand Multiple Power Outage Extravaganza. I'm not sure which is the less pleasant: post-hurricane steamy hot power outage or post blizzard frigid, blustery outage.
We have friends who have offered showers and spare bedrooms, but we wouldn't take advantage of the bed hospitality with four dogs in tow. Maybe a shower!
We're taking care of Elder Daughter's pups and house while she, SIL#2, and Baby Jack spend Christmas with the in-laws in Texas. We got to have Thanksgiving with them, so I suppose I begrudgingly understand that sharing is only fair. Sort of. So, tonight is what my Mama called "Garbahj" night -- emphasis on the second syllable -- when one hauls the trash to the curb so it can be picked up at some point the next day by city sanitation workers. I just now schlepped the big green trash can to the curb. It was only about 1/2 full, whereas last week it was close to overflowing. I suspect that's because there was no need to schlep it at all the week before, considering that a small family lives here at present. Even so, the re-cycling cart was seriously overflowing last Monday morning. Tonight when I rolled the re-cycling cart out, it was nearly full -- understandably since there have been a whole lot more folks around this week. Once I was at the curb, it hit me that I'm not in New Orleans, where we accept fewer items for recycling, but pick it up weekly. Noooo, I'm in Little Rock where almost everything is accepted for recycling, but it's picked up only every otherweek. So, I rolled the re-cyclables back into the garage, and anticipating the holiday schedule, took two bags of re-cycled materials from the re-cycling cart and transferred them to the garbage cart where they will be collected and sent to the landfill. Like we try to avoid by participating in re-cycling. What's wrong with this picture? Yeah. I agree. Waaaay too much. *sigh*
Remember last Year's Christmas miracle? When Moogie left her purse sitting in the middle of an aisle at the grocery store and no one stole, or even ransacked, it? That was pretty unbelievable.
This year's miracle makes 2011's pale by comparison.
We still have Bouie, and he's healthy, thanks be to God and a couple of skilled, kind veterinarians.
We arrived at Elder Daughter's home last Saturday and got to play with Baby Jack while ED's family, both canine and human, got to know Mysti. Bouie had fun playing with ED's pups, Tyson and Pippi. Sunday was pretty uneventful, until Pepper and Bouie came back from their evening walk at about 8:30. Bouie was not himself.
Halfway through their walk, Bouie began to get shaky. By the time they got back to the house, he could barely hold his head up and could hardly stand.
SIL#1 had treated an ant hill in the front yard that morning and Bouie had seemed very interested in it. We wondered whether he had gotten into the poison, so I called the emergency number noted on the container. I got some information from their hotline, but that didn't seem to be the source of Bou's problem. After he could barely get up, we decided to head to the emergency vet clinic across the river ASAP. And thank God we did as quickly as we did!
Vet#1 examined him and ran some blood work.
The tests revealed that he had ingested antifreeze!
50 to 70% of dogs who ingest antifreeze do not survive, especially when the levels are as high as Bouie's were. Their kidneys and liver are destroyed.
Treatment for antifreeze poisoning includes oral administration of activated charcoal to coat the intestines and IV administration of, in essence, pure grain alcohol. The PGA chemically binds with the antifreeze and causes it to be eliminated through the urine.
We had to leave our Bouie in a strange place that night, in the care of strangers.
I slept maybe 1 1/2 hours.
He did well overnight, and his kidney and liver values were strong at 6:00 Monday morning when Pepper picked him up, but he wasn't out of the woods yet.
When our former Vet's office opened at 8:00, I called to explain what had happened, and they said to bring him in, along with any records we had from Vet#1. We took our drunken sweetheart in before 9:00 and, once again, left him among strangers.
We had a very quiet breakfast, and both of us spent most of the day trying to stay occupied. I called the vet at midday, and he told me that Bouie was doing well, and could probably be discharged Tuesday afternoon, barring complications.
Complications, thy name is Bouie.
Monday night, he pulled out his IV. Vet#2 didn't know how much of the drip he had gotten, so, to be safe rather than sorry, they kept him another night to keep the drip going.
Then, Wednesday -- which just happened to be Pepper's birthday -- dawned, and Pepper got a call while he was in the duck blind from the vet. Bouie's blood work was great, and he could be released at 2:00 in the afternoon!
I arrived at Vet#2's at approximately 2:01.
My boy looked pretty rough, and he had a blood alcohol content of about 80 proof, but he was happy and alive!
Vet#2 took pictures to share with colleagues who were very interested in the lab who beat antifreeze, and let us leave after advising me to bring him back in a week to double check his kidney function, just to be on the safe side. And, also advising that Bouie would likely have the mother of all hangovers for a day or so.
I have never been so happy to have a dog in my backseat in my whole life.
There are other heartwarming details, but the upshot of this post is that I got everything I could ever want for Christmas when Bouie staggered through the door that afternoon, and to see the expression on Pepper's face when he got home from a Bouie-less hunt to find his bestest buddy waiting for him.
There are good, and miraculous, times in Moogie's World. And I wish the same for all of you.
I've been incredibly pre-occupied lately, with the house and Christmas and something else kinda exciting that I'll share in a few weeks, so I've been kinda neglecting Moogie's World and the blogosphere. I'll try to do better, but I can't make any promises, seeing as how I have done very little shopping, and we're getting ready to travel for the holidays, and we have a 10 week old black lab girl puppy!!!
This is the visual definition of cute (and hell on four large paws!):
Say hello to Mystic Roux (her mama's name was Roux), more commonly known as Mysti (or other "colorful" pejoratives, e.g., "you little fill-in-the-blank"):
She's getting the house training idea insofar as piddling goes, but we're still working on the poop angle. Bouie is very good with her -- he plays so gently with her. Perhaps he understands that she is his email-order bride and he needs to treat her right if he expects to wed her in a year or so.
She has gained over 3 pounds in two weeks, so she has an insatiable appetite. It's been pretty much a sleep-deprived, multi-ring circus around here since Thanksgiving (we picked her up on the way home from Arkansas). So, this video that appeared in my Inbox today was a calming, welcome pleasure. Just look at the children watching in awe.
Let us contemplate our forefathers and posterity, and resolve to maintain the rights bequeathed to us from the former for the sake of the latter. -- Samuel Adams
Envy is always referred to by its political alias, "social justice." -- Thomas Sowell
Curse you, Red Baron! -- Snoopy
The inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of blessings; the inherent virtue of socialism is the equal sharing of miseries. -- Winston Churchill
It's people! Soylent Green is people! -- Charlton Heston
