Remy was back at the vet’s office this past weekend… poor pooch. She’s been licking her wee wee for several months now. I know, I shouldn’t be such a damn neglectful parent. Honestly, I expected the irritation to heal on its own. But when I checked the sensitive region on Friday, I saw the area was all black and nasty and she had three lesions. Bubbey was his usual queasy-ass self—he couldn’t even look.
So long story short, the vet squeezed us in on Saturday morning. Reading through my books, I suspected Rem had vaginitis, but the doctor said it was a para-vaginal infection. He said the condition is common in overweight dogs, which Remy is not. But basically bacteria get in there and proliferate when there’s a lot of moisture. Anatomically, Remy’s built such that the area just doesn’t air out well, so when she urinates or licks, it doesn’t dry. Her dense fur especially around the rump doesn’t help either. So the first line of treatment is easy: oral antibiotics plus topical cream. If that doesn’t work, a vaginal “facelift” is in order. Ugh. It sounds too much like FGM (female genital mutilation). I’ll pat her area dry by hand every day if that’s what I have to do. Surgery sounds far too extreme.
Luckily, when I checked her today, the skin had already cleared up considerably. I’m doubly glad, because I’m on my way to San Diego to meet up with Nathalie for a few days. And with John in charge, the maintenance has to be as low as possible. I already told him he has to get over his willies and just go in there to slop on the cream. John refused to demo while I was home, so I’ll just have to trust that he’ll do it. I left him a bunch of q-tips. Silly wuss.
Other than that, Rems is well. She and Martin are shedding like crazy now that winter is coming on. Two weekends ago, the dogs woke us up in the middle of the night after they heard all this clamoring in the yard. All of us went out on the deck and a staredown ensued between Martin and a pair of adult raccoons. Big fearless critters. They didn’t even flinch. I got worried and ordered everyone back inside. I think the dogs were a bit scared too, because they didn’t bark or growl. They were quiet yet alert and cautious.
The following day on my ranger ride-along, I learned that raccoons are extremely intelligent. Not only that, they have opposable thumbs and are ultra dexterous. Wtf? Apparently, backpackers and campers are always complaining to the rangers about raccoons getting into their stashed/secured/hidden foods. Somehow the coons always manage to lift, twist, push, and seize the goodies. Animals. They really are amazing.
In other news, the job continues to kick. Boss is out on a four-week vacation, and I’m so fricking conditioned, I keep expecting him to call me from Thailand.
I’m enjoying my current projects though. I finally settled on an email list service and now I’m tweaking some templates for an e-newsletter. We’re also planning to launch an online store before the holidays. I had a minor issue last week with the vendor… The VP of Ops, an old scraggly grinch, copped an attitude. Not sure if it was because I was new or if the project had just lagged for far too long, but that was fun to handle. Thankfully, my boss had my back and with some strategic comments from our web consultant, the client-contractor dialog was put back into the proper place. My web consultant rocks btw. I think we may even become friends outside of work. How cool is that?
Speaking of friends, it’s amazing how much a low-stress job boosts quality of life. I’ve made a new buddy at work. Tina is also from San Mateo and she started on the same day as I. We totally click and it’s great, because now she’s my carpool buddy. And we’re taking the place up by storm. Ok, not really but we’re signing up for all kinds of activities together—rollerblading, the upcoming GreenFestivals, and rockclimbing. John is thrilled, because now he can finally have some peace for his own “self care” activities.
His primary me time activity? TV. And he just got an Onkyo sound system this weekend, so it’s 24-7 HD football, HBO, and Nat Geo. Surprisingly, John’s really getting into the nature shows, and I have a feeling I have a budding naturalist in the house. He’s always telling me about pythons and gators and their brute force of xyz psi. Then on Sunday, he dragged me hiking in Purisima Creek. From the get go, I tried to manage expectations: 1.5 hours and that’s it. Well guess what? We were on the fucking trail for 3+ hours. Up and down, up and down. He took me on a brutal hike, and today I am the sorest I’ve been in a long time, and that’s counting riding and skating. “The Ridge Trail Cruzathon was no fluke,” he kept saying. Sigh. Someone please help me.
Well I’m psyched about my short little trip to San Diego. I certainly have a knack for entering danger zones. First, John and I were in Thailand during the tsunami. Then we were in L.A. during the landslides. Then we flew into Miami days after Hurricane Rita. Now I’m flying into San Diego after a quarter million people evacuated their homes in northern SD County due to fires. I don’t know why I keep pressing my luck.