The Death and The Lies

my dearest fall

how I abhor you
but not totally, you know
you are a beauty to behold
dancing around
soft breezes scattering those pieces of me that could not withstand your bitter revenge
as you try to make a show of your power
your strength
your ability to kill and clear away all that once was
my laughter can no longer be heard
the pull of peace puts distance between I and my warmth
and you
you
how can I forgive you
that you have murdered me
the days darker now
night sooner
cold harsh bitterness  to follow
yes
I abhor you fall
my death is on you
but I will resurrect
and you will go away
and my friend spring shall usher in my glorious days once again
bringing smiles and sun and joy
and then you can rest
forever if you like

- summer


Dear Diary,

Evvvvvvry body gather round.  The side show is about to begin.  Graccccccie has become home for some fleas and Ms. Annoying (my new name for HER), using Dawn dishwashing liquid (ahhhhh choo!!)  (and q tips and tweezers) has decided to make THIS a daily event!  Watch as Ms. Annoying plucks fleas off of the innocent, elderly, **disabled dog who can barely make it up on to the bed by herself yet alone roll over for her (Ms. Annoying) to search her belly for fleas.  Woe is me.  Woe is me.  Gracie.

 ** disclaimer: All  recently posted blog entries where I am photographed running and jumping and laughing like a pup at the tennis courts have been photoshopped so that Ms. Annoying's bloggie followers think that I am of impeccable health and can withstand all the miserable cruel things she puts me through**  

No Poison, Please

Dear Diary,
Now that the emergency is over, I feel I can talk about this without getting too embarrassed.  For the past few months I've been showing signs of bugs fleas.  Oh, it wasn't all that bad.. really.  But Ms. no dog that has bugs crawling over it's sleeping in my bed Mom insists I get a check morning, noon, and night to make sure I'm flea-less.  One flea can send her into an hour long search for more.  She comes at me with a flashlight protruding from her forehead and a cup of Dawn dishwashing liquid soaked q-tips.   'Let me see your belly, Gracie,' she says.  I stop, drop, and roll and let her have her way with me.  Otherwise, it's ugly.

She's passionate about this mission of hers to keep me flea free without what she calls 'poison'.  
Up until last year, she would put something called Frontline  on my back and it would burn like fire. (just my interpretation)  I'd try to rub it off, but it was in a place that I just couldn't get to.  She said it kept fleas and ticks off of me and that it was the best thing for me.  But toward the end of summer last year I had fleas all over me and the peeps at the vet's office said something call Vectra would take care of them 'safely'.   I'm not sure if it would have killed the fleas or not..  but it almost killed me.  I started to vomit in the middle of the night and Mom jumped out of bed and tossed me in a tub of soapy Dawn water and tried to scrub all that Vectra stuff away.    She was crying and saying stuff like 'I can't believe I poisoned my baby' and well.. you get the picture.  Hey, I can't believe she poisoned me either...  but it is what it is.
Any-hoo...  No more poison for me.  Just a bug-detective Mom filling up a cup with fleas she picks off of me with her q-tip cocktail.   Crazy stuff, I'm tellin' ya. 

She took me last week and had me groomed again, so she can 'see' the bugs better.  
Now there's good news and there's bad news.  The bad news first.  Mom insists that I pick up the bugs during our evening neighborhood walk.  So icks-nay on the alks-way.  Grrrr
The good news - Mom and Dad have been taking me to the tennis courts and there I get to run and play ball. 
Mom says I'm bug free for now and she wants to keep it that way.  Gracie.

Mom Looks Worried

Dear Diary,

1:00 AM -  I'm sick as a dog.  Literally.  Barfed on one, two three throw rugs.

1:15 AM -  Mom looks worried.  She says she wishes she wouldn't have given me the new flea treatment that morning.  She thinks I'm having an allergic reaction.  

1:30 AM -  I'm in the bathtub.  Mom's sudsing me up with Oatmeal Shampoo, trying to wash away all the poison.  I sit looking straight ahead.  

2:00 AM -  It's the blow dryer.  I hate that thing.  It makes such noise, and it scares me when it blows all that warm air on me.

2:30 AM -  I'm still not dry.  Wish that stupid blow dryer would break.

2:45 AM -  Almost dry.  I'm shivering.  Mom wraps me in her warm soft robe and I fall asleep in Dad's chair.

8:00 AM - I'm too tired to get up.  Mom thinks there's something terribly wrong.

8:01 AM - Dad tests me, 'There's Max outside!" I jump from the chair and run to the window.  

I must be all better.

Gracie.

Today It's All About Gracie

Poor Gracie. 

 I thought Sunday's episode of  Unhappy Camper

would be the end of her woes for a while.  Not so.

Today before going off to work I caved in to her begging-for-a-belly-rub routine, and saw that she was crawling with fleas again.  We'd purchased a flea collar for her Sunday so we immediately put it on her.  I wasn't satisfied that it would do the job so I quick-ran to the animal hospital that's two minutes from our house and purchased a remedy much like Frontline  that the worker said she uses for her dog.  She says it works!  I was vulnerable... so I paid the sixty bucks and ran.  The stuff smelled strong, and once I got to the office, all I could think about is, 'what if she has a reaction to it'?  I had visions of her convulsing and vomiting all over the place and nobody would be there to help her.  Worry for nothing.  The only thing out of the ordinary that happened was that she pooped on the floor. Ick. I guess she figures on these rainy days she has to go somewhere, wouldn't want to go outside and get her little tushy wet.  Bad dog.
I just checked her a while ago, so far no fleas.  Someone said I'm going to have to fumigate my house though... make sure they're gone for good.
I'm checking into something called Flea Treats which was recommended by Sam and I'm hoping it will be safe and effective.
Meanwhile,  I have to keep checking through Gracie's multi-layered locks to see if she has any more bugs.

I ordered something special for her online...  since she's been having such a tough time.  A few years ago I read a great book called Amazing Gracie by Dan Dye and Mark Beckloff.  These guys started Three Dog Bakery, a bakery for the best of the best in homemade dog food and treats.  It's pricey, but today it's all about Gracie.