Guest in Jest

I need some input, ideas, help.  Ok, let me stop you right there. I know you are going to say I’ve needed help for a long time. There, I said it, before you did. So thttewweeep. You’ll just have to imagine me sticking out my tongue and making that “sticking out your tongue” noise that is ever so rude.

Now, on to the issue at hand.

I’ve been talking to people about doing guest blogs. Then I thought about making it a regular feature. Here is how my thought process went:

It would be fun to do so that we would be able to meet some of our fellow bloggers more in-depth.

Then it occurred to me that it would be fun to do it on a weekly basis or more.

Ok, a lot of people do this, how can we make it different?

How about having guest blogs that are funny?

Yes!

But what would the rules be?

1. Must tell something about yourself and your blog.
2. Must do this in a way that elicits a smile.
3. Extra points for getting laughs, chuckles, and guffaws.
4. Points don’t matter but the laughs, chuckles, and guffaws do.
5. Must tell us where you are from and a short description of said place.

Are there any more rules you can think of?

I was thinking of naming it Guest in Jest followed by the name of the guest blogger.
For example” Guest in Jest mainepaperpusher

On what day(s) of the week should it fall?

As you can tell, this is just an idea roughly outlined, but if there is any interest in it at all, I’ll figure out a way to do it!

If you are interested in being a Guest in Jest blogger.  Leave me a comment here.  That way I’ll know if it’s feasible or not.

Any further ideas would be GREATLY appreciated.  Thanks so much!

Fit to a T

We have a camp (cottage) on a secluded pond (lake.)  I use the parentheses because in Maine a camp can be a pretty large cottage. Also, what we think of as a pond is a large lake in other parts of the world.

One day we decided to go for a canoe ride.  It was a beautiful day on the pond, but then we saw a ruckus on the surface quite far away.  We paddled faster.  As we got closer we realized that it was a bird causing all of that commotion.  A big osprey was flapping wildly on the surface and was obviously in distress.

If you see an osprey up close, they are pretty impressive.  They have a wingspan that can stretch up to six feet.  Their beak is formidable and their talons are made to shred fish.  It was only after this ordeal that I read that they fend off predators with their talons and not their beaks.  A little gem to keep in mind should you be in a similar situation!

I am not a person to leave an animal in distress.  I am also not a person who will be torn to shreds if I can help it.  What to do?   I wasn’t going to leave him there and that was that, but I had no idea how I was going to make this work.  Poor Bill thought I was out of my mind when I jumped out of the canoe.

Luckily I was pretty close to shore, maybe a little more than 50 feet.  When I hit the water I tried to stand up, and I did, and then I fell back in.  Luckily it was shallow but the rocks were covered in slime and my bare feet didn’t have a hope of gaining traction.  You’ll just have to imagine my swimming and pushing against slimy rocks where I could.  I would have given a lot of money to know what that injured osprey thought of my performance.  It wasn’t exactly graceful, but it got me to the wooded and rocky shore.  I looked around for anything that might help, and there it was, the branch of my dreams.  That’s not a sentence that’s uttered all that often, but it should be.  Branches are important and deserve to be dreamt of occasionally!

The amazing part of this story was the size and shape of this dreamy branch.  That branch was big enough so that the osprey could get a good grip and it fit in the canoe perfectly. The T shape kept the branch from rolling when balancing it on the sides of the canoe.  Just another tip to keep in mind; it’s always good to keep your wounded osprey upright. Once I got that perfect branch, I was in business.  I did my slime/swim back to the canoe and tried to get the bird to perch on the branch.  I finally succeeded much to my surprise.  Bill was a little overwhelmed when he realized that I was trying to situate a big bird in the canoe for a trans-pond passage.

I managed to get the bird, who was clinging to the branch, steadied in the canoe.  I climbed back in.  To this day I don’t know how I did it without tipping us over, losing the bird, or injuring someone.  Can you imagine the conversation in the emergency room?  “I broke my something or other while trying to climb into a canoe while steadying an osprey on a branch in preparation for a trip across the pond.  No, I do not run an osprey transportation service on a regular basis!  Yes, I realize my feet are red and green because they have slime and blood on them.  Some of those rocks were sharp!  Yes, that’s my husband over there whose face is showing concern, amusement, shock, and disbelief …all at once.  I am sure they would call the psychiatric unit to prepare them for an intake.”

Back to the story…  We were about a half mile from camp and we paddled back as slowly and cautiously as we could.  The last thing I wanted was for the bird to panic and fly out of the canoe and flop around again.  Actually, the last thing I wanted was to be slashed by a distressed bird whose wingspan matched the height of my husband!

It took a while and we finally got back to camp.  Then we were left with a new problem.  What now?  We had no phone at camp so Bill drove to the nearest place that did and made a few calls.  No one dealt with wounded osprey.  I can’t imagine why.  I would think any animal lover would be more than happy to take an osprey in.  Especially a wounded VERY angry and dangerous osprey.  Alas, I was wrong.  I was very, very wrong.  We found no takers.  Luckily the person whose phone Bill used had a big appliance box.  I put the osprey in the big box and left him next to the camp. I don’t remember how I did it, but it must have been a spectacular example of osprey-moving engineering.  All I cared about was that I managed to avoid the beak and the talons.  In spite of the osprey’s demeanor, I was all worried about leaving him there.  But we had to head home to continue the calling.

Someone somewhere had to be knowledgeable about birds of prey. Someone had to help him.  I had visions of keeping a big bird who couldn’t fly supplied with fish for the rest of my life.  It was bad enough having rock slime on my feet.  Having fish slime on my hands for decades on end was just going too far in the slime department.

We finally found a bird rehab guy that lived fairly far away, but he was willing to take the bird and do what he could.  We made a donation to the rehab center and hoped for the best.  Later we found out that the osprey had a broken wrist.  I didn’t even know birds had wrists!  The things you learn when you attempt a crazy bird rescue!

The rehab place helped him as much as they could and set him free on the coast where other ospreys gather in the fall.  We’ll never know if he made it or not, but we do know we did all we could to give him the best chance of success.

I still have that T-shaped branch in the porch at camp.

IMG_4995.jpgEvery time I look at it I think about that beautiful bird. I also think about how thankful I am that I didn’t have to tell an ER doc why my feet looked like they were decorated for Christmas.

 

The Madcap Cousins Try Indian Cuisine

My cousins and I got together recently.  Actually, we had an additional two cousins- once-removed join us, as well.  The group is expanding.  Pretty soon we will be an army of cousins.   Or we could start a cousin street gang and all get the same tattoos.  I’ll work on the secret handshake later.  The point is, we will soon conquer the world.  This time around we wanted to conquer Indian food.

The six of us descended upon an Indian restaurant and took up residence at the center table under a ridiculously large and flashy chandelier.  I’m not sure exactly how this fits into Indian decor, but as you can see above, it was something to behold.  My dear Indian friends, perhaps you can shed some light on this matter.  Ugggh, that pun was totally unintentional, but in the spirit of silliness, I will let it stand.  Maybe very large lighting fixtures are the norm in India and I just need to be enlightened.  Ok, that one WAS intended, I must confess.  I’ll hang my head in shame now.

There we were, under said chandelier and the excitement was palpable, though not yet palatable.  Three of us love Indian food and the other three hadn’t had it before.  The tension started to build as we ordered some Vegetable Samosas for the appetizer.  Oh no!  The samosas were deliciously spiced, but the level of hotness could not be denied.  What was somewhat hot for me was going to be too hot for our neophytes.  I could see it in their faces, this was an ominous precursor.

I hoped that this would not sour them on the dishes to come.  I ordered my favorite dish which is Saag Paneer.  I’ve also ordered it as Palak Paneer.  Is there a difference?  Again, I defer to my Indian friends.  Thank goodness I have many and they put up with me, at least so far. The rest of the crew ordered many different chicken dishes, all in red gravy.  Theirs all looked alike.  I decided to go green.  That’s kind of my style anyhow, so it was fitting.  Leave it to me to be different!

I won’t name names to protect the innocent, but for those of you who follow me on Facebook, you can probably figure it out.  Three of us loved it, as we knew we would.  Of the three who had never had Indian food before, one had a “meh” reaction and two were decidedly underwhelmed.  I thought it was adventurous of them to try something they had never had before and I was proud of them.  I just wished they liked it more.  Maybe if they had tried something green.  Maybe, oh so many maybes.  Sigh…If only I hadn’t told them how great it was.  If only I hadn’t raised their expectations.  Yup, there were a lot of “if onlies,” too.  When it comes right down to it, I know it wasn’t my fault.  I blame the samosas.

 

The Unique Blogger Award-Snark Version

I want to apologize up front for anything I say below that you think could be viewed as untoward.  I apologize because everything was meant to be untoward and if you only think it MIGHT be, I haven’t done my job properly.  I also want to apologize for the length of this post, but it was necessary.  There were extenuating circumstances.  Weren’t there, Nel?
I am very honored that Nel has nominated me for this award and rather surprised.  I’m not sure if she has a high tolerance for my foolishness or if she actually seeks it out.  For some reason, she brings out the worst in me.  For some reason she likes it.  Go figure.
Please, PLEASE check out her blog reactionary tales  You will be truly glad that you did.  If the spirit moves you, please give her a good dose of silliness or be a little snarky and tell her you’re channeling me.  You will avoid being blamed for said snarkiness and it will free me up for other things for a bit.  It is difficult to keep up a truly superb level of snark without a break here and there, so I’d really appreciate it.  Oddly, so would Nel.

 

**The Rules:**

• Share the link to the blogger who has shown love to you by nominating you.

• Answer the questions.

• In the spirit of sharing love and solidarity with our blogging family, nominate 8-13 people for the same award.

• Ask them 3 questions.

 

Nel’s questions to me which I am totally ignoring…see  reasons below

• If you could pick a book to turn into a movie adaptation, what would it be?

• What inspires you most about your blog?

• What author inspires you (doesn’t have to be a book; can be a film director or music composer)?

• Bonus question because I’m listening to The Circle of Life: What’s your favorite Disney song???
Yeah, well you should know that Nel wussed out by passing the questions that were put to her on to her nominees.   Nel, you can NOT just pass on the questions.  I forbid it.  Ok, I can’t actually forbid it but I can rebel and resist and throw a pretty impressive tantrum. And I will! I will ask my own damned questions and then answer them.  I am thus proclaiming myself the God of Questions.  I just thought you ought to know.
Nel, just to punish you for your errant behavior, I am going to nominate you.  Yes, you read that correctly.  You are going to be re-awarded!  No, not rewarded, silly woman!  re-Awarded.  That’s right.  Take THAT!
One little disclaimer here….wait, TWO little disclaimers here:  I did something very similar to what Nel is doing here in another award so I really don’t have a leg to stand on as far as this rant goes.  Also, I am not answering her recycled questions because her nominator’s questions were hard and I’d probably have glossed over them anyhow. Here’s an example of how I would have skimped on said questions:

Book to movie adaptation…Something with robots in it, and animals, and space ships, and cavemen, and sharks (lots of sharks) and maybe a watchmaker.  Yeah…that.

What inspires me about my blog… My interactions with my fellow bloggers.  Commenting back and forth is the best!

Author inspires blah blah… Tom Robbins_

Disney song...Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious . C’mon!  Who doesn’t love singing that song?
Damn it!  I just answered the questions that I said I wouldn’t answer to show why I didn’t want to answer them.  I have the whole Catch 22 thing going on here.  I blame Nel.  Don’t be a Nel.  Don’t give me that whole Catch 22 thing because I’m on thin ice as it is.  It’s June, thin ice is bad this time of year.

 

*My questions to ME and to my nominees….See what I did there, Nel?

1. If you could live in a Dr. Seuss book, which would you pick? I would pick  “Oh, The Places You’ll Go!”  Thought I was going to talk about cats or fish or  Hortons, didn’t you?
2. If you could have perfect weather, what would it be? I would like the temp to be in the eighties, a nice breeze, mostly sunny but just enough interesting clouds to hold my attention.  But not too many because then I’d be shaded and I like the feel of the sun on my skin. Plus, it’s really rude when clouds throw shade.  Some people like rainbows.  All I’m asking for is a warm gentle breeze kind of day with exactly the right number of clouds.  Those clouds should have interesting shapes, too.  Like a dragon.  Yes, I would like a warm zephyrous day with a precise number of clouds (11) with one of them being dragon-shaped.  If I couldn’t have that, I’d take a thunderstorm.
3.  What question would you like to ask yourself?  What would the answer be? I would ask about Dr. Seuss books and a weather-related question.  I would answer them like I did above.  Done/done!

Nel’s bonus question that anyone can answer if they want to…but Nel must!  I insist!

You’ve just awoken.  You haven’t had your coffee/tea/preferred caffeine delivery system yet, and the following people are making demands of you as you endeavor to start your day.   What do you say to each of them?

1. Husband/wife/domestic partner:

2. Child

3. Pet

4. Boss

5. X with X being a person/being of your choice

6. Mailman

7. A fellow blogger  (not me because I know what you’d say to me!)

8.  Barista

9. Neighbor

10. Random guy in elevator
Ok Nel, I know you REALLY enjoyed that question so let’s go back and do a different take on it so we can compare.  Go through questions 1-10 and tell us what you would say after having caffeine.  Knowing your penchant for trying to get away with things, I can imagine you’ll try to tell us that you don’t indulge in caffeine.  Let me stop you right there, missy!  That response is unacceptable.  If you TRULY don’t use caffeine then I am still going to make you answer the questions theoretically.  Uhuh!  You have to make up the responses.  You’re a writer. You can do this.

Knowing your penchant for trying to get away with things, I can imagine you’ll try to tell us that you don’t indulge in caffeine.  Let me stop you right there, missy!  That response is unacceptable.  If you TRULY don’t use caffeine then I am still going to make you answer the questions theoretically.  Uhuh!  You have to make up the responses.  You’re a writer. You can do this.
Now that I’ve made a complete dog’s breakfast out this wonderful award,  here are my victims er nominees:

 

**Nominees:**

 

Nel

General Topics

nicolesundays

magicandbeauty

gardeninglimited

sosimplyso

houstonphotojourney

Feel free to totally skip this award because I’ve made it absolutely ridiculous. I have asterisked the parts that non-Nel’s need to know.  The rest is just my usual craziness.   So no need to get involved in this silliness unless you want to.  Except for Nel…she’s gotta do it!

Have fun with this!

Love, mainepaperpusher

Yes, love to you, too Nel.  Especially to you.  ❤️💕❤️💕❤️

 

No One Has a Monopoly on Misconduct

Back in the mid 80’s, I worked for a doomed Presidental campaign.  I was only 20 at the time and….ok I was 22.  What’s in a number, right?

Soooo, back in the 80’s, I was working for Vice President Mondale in his bid for the presidency.  It was a great experience but it left me jaded toward all things related to politics. Even a squeaky-clean candidate like Mondale had professional campaigners who broke one law after another…local, state, federal…it didn’t matter.  I was so disenchanted.

My job was to meet delegates and convince them to vote for Mondale at the state convention.  One by one, I met them as I traveled throughout a nearby county in my quest for votes.  As you can imagine, I spent a lot of time in the car.

Back then I enjoyed driving fast.  I’ve always enjoyed driving fast.  I can say that now that I can’t drive anymore.  I don’t have to worry that there will be law enforcement folks reading this and conspire to catch me driving 20 miles an hour over the speed limit.

Luckily my time with the campaign came with a rental car.  It wasn’t a fancy car, but it got me where I needed to go in a “timely” manner.  In other words, the car allowed me to go like a bat out of hell.  That was my preferred driving experience until a cop clocked me doing 90mph in a 55.  He was going the opposite direction and I checked the rearview mirror.  I saw him screech to a halt and do a three point turn.  Damn,  (not the first word that came to mind) I was about to be incarcerated.

Just as I was having this thought I saw a road coming up on my right.  Another thought came to mind in that split second.  I was driving a rental car and it wasn’t rented under my name.  I mashed the brake to the floor and made the turn on two wheels in a cloud of dust.  The road was dirt so I knew there would be no question about where I went.  The trail of dust I left behind me was substantial.

I’d never traveled a dirt road that fast, nor have I since.  I was cranking.  Suddenly a fox came out of nowhere, but I successfully avoided him.  I kept looking in the rear view mirror but all I saw was the big dust plume obscuring my view.  I kept going till I reached the next town.  Only then did I slow down.

Once the adrenaline had subsided, it occurred to me what I had done.  I had outrun the police.  I couldn’t believe I’d done it! I couldn’t believe I’d succeeded! Here I was being jaded about covert political misdeeds and I’d committed the most overt transgression of them all.  It was a brazen move, but it kept out of big trouble.  That was a good thing because I didn’t have a Get Out of Jail Free Card.

Dirt Under My Fingernails

Summer is finally here in central Maine.   Traditionally, Maine gardeners in my neck of the woods plant their gardens over Memorial Day weekend.  For many, it’s a tradition. It’s like putting on the storm windows after the Skowhegan Fair (mid-August.)   It’s like putting your snow tires on November 1st.  Or taking them off on May 1st because that’s the law.  Damn it, there might be another late spring storm!  I’ve seen it snow in May.  Yeah, it was may years ago and it only dusted the ground, but it happened!  Sorry, I got sidetracked there a little bit, but suffice it to say; I was late getting the plants in.

Yup, planting over Memorial Day weekend is a tradition for sure.   There would have been some serious tsking going on if my father had been a tsker.  He wasn’t, but all I could imagine was the look of disappointment on his face.  He would have planted his veggie seeds indoors in March so they would be ready for the proper weekend.  I hadn’t even bought pregrown plants!   I was really late.

Now in my defense, it was a very cold and rainy spring.  People who planted their gardens in mid-late May grumbled about their plants’ suffering.  I didn’t grumble because I didn’t have any plants to suffer.  I was smart!  I didn’t have to cover any of them up because there could be a late frost.  Nope, no late frost, it was me who was late!

As the season progressed and Memorial Day passed, it got warmer and I started to get the itch.  All gardeners get it.  I was itching to get my hands in the soil.  I must plant something!  Then I didn’t.  I was beyond late.

I don’t know exactly why I didn’t plant. In spite of the itch, I had a big case of apathy going on.  And you know what that meant?  I know, I don’t even have to say it.

Then I finally did it!  I went to the greenhouse and bought a few plants.  Yup, I was awesome.  I bought those plants with gusto.  There was no stopping me in the buying-plants department.  I was all over it.  I know the greenhouse people looked at me and wondered why I was there so late in the season picking over what was left.  I saw their stupid judgy faces. They know me there, and they know I’m better than this.  I didn’t care, I went on my plant-buying spree and no one was going to stop me!

That was a week ago.  The plants were wilting in the sunroom so I watered them.  They looked pitiful sitting there in their dinky little six-packs.  But I left them there.  The apathy continued.  Till something awesome happened.

We have a gal named Wendy who comes to clean, landscape, dog-sit, you name it.  Wendy came today.  Now Wendy isn’t like an ordinary employee who has always has set tasks.  When she comes, she never knows exactly what she’ll be doing, and neither do I.  It’s kind of a free-for-all.  She sees something that needs doing and she does it.  I might have a suggestion or two, but Wendy’s got it handled.

When I got up I realized that Wendy was weeding the garden beds.  It was like she’d read my apathetic mind.  I shouldn’t have been surprised because this mind-reading thing is something she’s good at, at least when it comes to me.  This ability should scare her because reading my mind can be like a rollercoaster on acid, but we’re both very lucky because she’s unflappable.  No acid-tripping carnival ride was going to flap her, no siree!

There she was, bent over some unsuspecting dandelions.  Those weeds didn’t have a chance.  She got every weed, every root, every tiny bit of offensive green.  I think she sifted the soil for errant seeds.  Those beds were pristine!  I almost cried.

The only things she left were the onions and cilantro that reseeded from last year.  Hey, look at my cilantro and onions!  They look awesome!  As I was making that fantastic proclamation, Wendy rolled her eyes.

Fine. FINE!  I went and got my sad little plants.  I planted them except for those I suddenly decided needed to be planted in the bed she was still weeding.  SHE was holding me up!   Damn Wendy!

Apparently, I missed the grass-clipping altercation.  Just as Wendy was finishing the beds Bill came by with the lawn mower and blew grass clippings onto the beds and my new plants.  I think there were words.  I think Wendy won.  I was assured it will never happen again.

I still have to get those last plants that Wendy prevented me from planting in the ground, but I still felt really proud of myself.  So what if it took Wendy’s eye roll to set me in motion?  I have dirt under my fingernails and my cilantro and onions look awesome!

Not a Squirrel! Update

You all wanted to have an update on my non-squirrel problem.  The good news is that Mr. Chipmunk has not reappeared to my knowledge.  The bad news is that I was almost outed by ME!

Let me just begin by saying that Bill is a Troglodyte when it comes to computers.  This is not news to him.  We’ve always called him “One Button Bill” because he couldn’t operate anything that had more than one button.

One day I was trying to get Bill to do something computer oriented and he got exasperated.  He finally shouted!  Oh, maybe “shouting” is a bit strong.  He finally proclaimed?  Yup, that’s better!  He finally proclaimed: “You know how some people are high tech?  You know how some people are low tech?  I’M NO TECH!!!”  Yeah, it was probably closer to shouting now that I think about it.

Anyhow, I’ve been after Bill for years to start a Facebook account so he could reconnect with old friends and become part of this century.  So tonight he’s looking over my shoulder while I was doing my normal scroll and the stupid chipmunk came up!  I had forgotten that I send my posts to Facebook and Twitter because people kept asking when a new one was coming out.

So there I was, with Bill looking at my wall and seeing Mr. Chipmunk, and do you know what he said?  “Not a Squirrel!? Oh I’ve read that post, keep going!”  How could he look a chipmunk right in front of him and not realize it?  It took everything I had not to laugh. He thought it was the original squirrel post.  He’s still sitting over there doing something else and I want to snicker sooo badly.  I will admit that I have turned my head away from him a few times so that I could indulge in a big ol’ smirk!

There may be no more updates if little Chippy was only a transient ‘munk.  But if anything else happens, I’ll keep you all up to speed!

 

Not a Squirrel!

Recently I wrote a post about my squirrel problem.  You can see it here if you want to take a look:  Squirrel!

 

A quick recap:

We caught squirrels.

We relocated squirrels

Husband happy.

Me, a little bit sad.

 

 

Yeah, that’s about it in a nutshell.  Yeah, I had to go there, didn’t I?  Ok, you’re pretty much up to speed except for the relocation details and my view of the squirrels’ thoughts on Bill.

Today I went outside and as I turned back to the house, there he was.  Was he a red squirrel like the others?  I thought so at first but the no…this new creature was a chipmunk.  Oh damn, no!

Alvin

I have a chipmunk, and not the Alvin kind.  That’s not fair to say really, I didn’t hear him speak.  He might very well be the Alvin kind.  Time will tell….or it might not.  It all depends on how long he’s here.

I looked at him.  He looked at me.  Like using a good shampoo, I repeated this as necessary,  So did he.  It was a woman/chipmunk staredown!  While this went on, many things were going through my mind:

Bill was going to be very unhappy that my birdseed attracted another rodent.

But he’s so cute!

I love my birds and it’s not fair that I can’t feed them without “someone” coming to eat the seed.

His cuteness could not be denied!

I wonder how many chipmunks there are?

I bet they are all cute.

Damn it!  We’re going to have to get the trap out again.

Man, he’s cute!

Could I hide the fact that a chipmunk was sitting on the step like he owned the place?

Because, you know, he’s so freaking cute!

 

I took a step toward him and he scurried up the lilac bush RIGHT NEXT TO THE BIRDSEED!  That feeder is right outside the kitchen window.  This was going to be trouble.

Even if I decide to “forget” that I saw him, the cats or dogs will probably out him.  They all have highly attuned Squirel-dar, and I imagine that their chipmunk-dar would be just as accurate.

I must refrain from looking out that window.  I can’t arouse suspicion.  But I can’t help myself because of the cuteness and all.

What to do, what to do?  I haven’t decided yet, but I’ll keep you posted!

My Puppy Has Acne-The Remix

I had mentioned in an earlier post that my Great Dane puppy, Walter, has acne.  He’s a teenager and it’s not unusual for Danes to have canine acne.

My vet is probably tired of hearing about Walter’s facial flaws.  From the time he was a small puppy, he’s had a bump here or there.  YES!  He was small once!  Just because he’s headed toward 120 lbs at age 10 months does not mean he wasn’t little once…for about a minute.

The first time Walter had a problem was around his eyelashes.  I was scared to death that something really bad was happening to him.  The vet put him on antibiotics and all was well.  Till a few weeks later.  This time it was on his snout and chin.  There were a lot of them.  And they weren’t just bumps anymore.  They looked just like cystic acne.  It was awful.  I didn’t want people to look at Walter and say “Oh, but he has such a nice personality.”

I was desperate.  I asked the vet what he suggested as a topical to help with this.  He suggested Stridex.  I love my vet.  He will suggest things you can buy over the counter even when he has special vet products he could sell at a profit.

Off I went to buy Stridex.  I won’t lie and say that I didn’t feel weird going up to the counter with a jar of Stridex pads.  Those who know me will vouch for the fact that I’ll put a swath of purple in my salt and pepper hair from time to time.  I’m sure the cashier took one look at the Stridex, one look at my hair, and decided that this 56-year-old woman had delusions of adolescence.  I didn’t care.  My puppy had pimples of gigantic proportions and he needed this.

Walter did NOT think he needed this.  Walter is usually unflappable.  There is nothing that will stop him.  You can make loud noises, spray water in his face, put bitter apple on things and he is unfazed.  Stridex fazed him.  I tried to dab a little on his cheek and he bolted.  When he’d calmed down and returned I merely reached for the jar and he was gone.  The good thing was that I knew how to get his attention if he was doing something he shouldn’t.  The bad thing was that his acne progressed.

Another round of antibiotics and his skin cleared, as if by magic.  But the “cure” only lasted 2-3 weeks.  I hated the thought of antibiotics again in such a short period of time, but it looked just so painful that I had no choice.  Again it cleared.

Three weeks later and it returned.  Another desperate call to the vet.  His latest recommendation is a chemical called chlorhexidine.  It has antibiotic, antiseptic, antifungal…oh let’s just say it has all the “antis” covered.  I read the reviews, I saw good reports, I read that the odor wasn’t bad.

Great!  I got online and checked out my options.  There was a great price for a gallon of the stuff.  Awesome!  That should last me at least a little while, even if I had to chase him and lost some along the way.  As long as I could get the smell of it past him, I might have a chance.

The gallon of chlorhexidine arrived.  It was blue like Windex.  Oh no, it smelled like Windex.  Was this stuff Windex?  A little Googling and I found out that people use this stuff instead of Windex because it has such great properties and is safe for animals.  All of that was well and good, but could I get it past Walter’s sniffer?

I went back to the jug to read the warnings.  I wasn’t worried.  They use it to clean medical areas.  Doctors use this stuff on patients about to go into surgery.  Dentists use it for mouth washes.  If it worked, it didn’t seem to have any side effects that would be a problem.

I read the instructions.  Wait!  There are instructions?  Why yes there are.  Right there on the side of the jug, they were plain to see.  Mix one ounce per gallon of water.  One ounce per GALLON of water!!?

At 64 ounces per gallon, that meant I had enough to make 4,096 GALLONS of chlorhexidine at the proper concentration!!!   The good news is that once it is diluted properly, the smell is barely there.  Walter did not run away.  Walter let me cuddle his chin with my wet hand and was as happy as can be.

Keep your fingers crossed that this will work for Walter.  Even if it doesn’t,  I’ll still have enough to wash and disinfect every surface in this house, and the barn, and the garden shed, and the cars…repeatedly.  Even after that, I’ll have enough to wash a friggin’ herd of horses…from tip to tail!

Milestone

Astoundingly, I now have two hundred followers.  I’m not sure how this happened, but I am ever so pleased there are that many of you out there who have fallen for my cunning plan…er I mean…um…

Seriously though, I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who took the time to hit the “follow” button on my blog, and especially those who read and comment on my silly posts.

I never realized what a wonderful community the blogging world could be.  You have been so supportive and gracious.  I just wanted to tell you how much you mean to me.   💕❤️💕❤️ ❤️💕❤️💕❤️