For me, that February was one of those in between birthday years that don’t leave a lasting impression. That said, Mother Nature did her best to make things more memorable by socking us with a Huge storm. But, I don’t ski, so two feet of snow is not my idea of a grand birthday gift. Combine the snow with the fact that, once again, I was sick, and I was in no mood to celebrate.
Zuni was already not-so-pleased with this winter, but the February storm of 2013 left us all more than a tad unhappy. I will always wonder if the combination of abdominal drainings and snow made her think, “Yeah, I’m all set here.”
In my eyes, the only perk of a good snow storm is the inevitable snow day. I worked from home, Zuni either in my lap or snoozing by my side, as the snow fell and until the sidewalks cleared. One of the (many, in my eyes) downers of a good snow storm, however, was trying to get Zuni outside in it.
Months ago, we’d established weedle zones in the house for Zuni, placing larger and larger weedle pads in the spare room and near the kitchen, as her aim got worse and worse. Our coming-home-from-work routine morphed to include a new phase for cleaning up places where Zuni missed the pad, in between giving she and Maybel an ecstatic greeting and administering treats.
We never scolded Zuni for missing the pad; she was trying so hard. We even caught her once in the act of bad aim. One evening, she slowly strolled over to the pad, dutifully walked her front paws a few inches onto it, and proceeded to pee…with her butt hanging off the side. Sigh…
Occasionally, as I cleaned up pee, she would sit next to me, looking sheepish. I looked into her sad eyes and pointed at the middle of the pad, “Just walk into the middle, sweetie, please…just into the middle.” And, for a day or two, she would. Then, it was back to cleaning up pee.
The weedle pad in the spare bedroom was for midnight runs, which Zuni took nearly every night. She would jump off of the bed, waking me with a start, to saunter into the other room and do her business. (Somehow, she rarely missed that pad. Curious.)
At first, she could jump back into the bed by herself. As she grew weary, though, she would come to my side of the bed and stand on her hind legs, staring holes into my head until I picked her up and placed her back in bed.
After awhile, I got in the habit of throwing one arm off of the side of the bed when I heard her head out. Upon her return, she would nudge my hand to wake me up and get her lift back into bed. Those last couple months, I rarely had an unbroken night’s sleep, but there was no way I was going to leave her out of bed!
(After awhile, we put puppy stairs at the foot of the bed so she wouldn’t have to jump down. Oddly, she still wouldn’t walk back up them, preferring her custom-made elevator, aka, me.)
Despite cleaning up a lot of pee, and dealing with even more snow, I enjoyed the week with Nick in Seattle and just us girls in the house. Maybel and I made our almost-daily Petco runs, one of which lead to the discovery of Mr. Ferret.
Similar to the ‘Coon, Mr. Ferret caught my eye as I was leading Maybel out of Petco. He was flat, fuzzy, and squeaked on both ends. Given the success of the ‘Coon, I decided to take another go at a dog toy for Zuni.
I placed the Petco bags on the floor as soon as we walked in the door. Zuni eagerly stuck her head right in, pushing her way past two types of treats to grab Mr Ferret out of the bag. Score number two! Because of the ferrets length and shape, he was ideal for tug of war between Maybel and Zuni, Maybel tugging intuitively and surprisingly gently against her older sibling.
To pass the holiday weekend that February, Zuni and I spent time doing puzzles. I’d put a pillow on the bench next to where I was working, and Zuni would curl up in a ball to nap. Every now and then, she’d sit up and take stock of the puzzle, appraising my progress before curling back up to snooze.
We also developed a Firefly habit. I typically have a hard time falling asleep when Nick is out of town. To combat the insomnia, I’ll put a movie or TV show on in the background. The distraction of choice this week was Firefly reruns.
I propped my iPad up against Nick’s empty pillow and laid my head carefully along the bottom edge of my own. The top, and majority, of my pillow was dedicated to Zuni, who would sprawl her entire body across its king size length, laying her head next to mine, staring intently at the screen.
I swear Zuni had a crush on Malcolm Reynolds. We passed nearly every night that week that way, Maybel curled up at the bottom of the bed, apparently not sharing our Firefly fascination.
Over the course of the week in February, I could tell Zuni’s abdomen was prematurely filling back up. It seemed too early, and I was honestly afraid to tackle the snow and make the trip to the vet by myself.
I was leaving for my Vegas trip soon after Nick’s return. The vet had one appointment while we both were in town, but it was smack in the middle of rush hour traffic. We drove an hour to get to our favorite vet, as it was, so I didn’t take the appointment, opting for one the next day, which Nick would then do alone.
I doubt this story would have ended any differently if I had made the first appointment, and I can only tell events as they transpired. But, I will always wonder how else our tale may have played out.
Our adventure began a little over four years ago with a fateful text. It was about to culminate with one, as well.
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This blog, and my Boston marathon run this year, are dedicated to our little pooch Zuni. Please, help Zuni’s shelter the Animal Rescue League of Boston save more wonderful animals in need. Donate to my 2014 Boston Marathon fundraiser for the Animal Rescue League of Boston! Want to help even more? Please, spread the word to everyone you know!
Zuni went for her last successful abdomen draining in January. Here, she’s looking quite svelte afterwards.
The Zuni Diaries 