For months, I have been applying for a position as a Pet Portrait Artist with a company that let’s just say rhymes with “Schmooey”. Every week or so I send another letter along with samples of my work and links to my website. Every week I get absolutely no reply. This isn’t the only place ghosting me. If someone doesn’t like my work, that’s fine, but I hate to waste my time and theirs with a bunch of unwanted letters.
Gma nags me to keep contacting these places, but I wonder where does the line fall between “persistent” and “pathetic”? How many tries does it take before I get the hint?
For a while I have felt guilty calling Toby “Bitey Dog” when it was really his brother’s moniker, but Toby finally put forth the effort to make it his.
Dogs do so well at hiding their feelings sometimes that you can miss their signs of pain.
On Friday I leaned over to ask if I could help Toby reach the treat that he had pushed behind he furniture, and he exploded in a furious attack. Twenty four pounds of muscle and anger (and teeth. Let’s not forget the teeth) launched themselves straight for my face. This was so out of character for my pup that I was completely caught off guard.
I managed to get him into his kennel so I could assess the situation. He immediately fell asleep. I ended up with puncture wounds on my cheek, lip and nose. Also, my top lip had been ripped apart like a rabbit’s. Gross. Trust me, the look is only cute on bunnies.
Tuesday was the earliest I could schedule an appointment with Toby’s vet, and she told me that he “did not mince words” when she tried to examine his left knee. Also, he somehow managed to gain 2 pounds in 6 months. Oops. Looks like the shutdown got to him too.
The combination of extra weight and already wonky knees left my boy in incredible pain. Me getting near his treat on Friday sent him over the edge. I didn’t know that, though, and spent the weekend afraid of my dog. Now I feel guilty that my little boy needed comfort and understanding, and I kept him at several arms’ length.
Toby got sent home from the vet with pain medication and guidelines for a strict diet. By this afternoon he was feeling so much better that he was driving me nuts. He is evidently hungry too because he keeps stealing my things in order to trade them for food. I can tell that the next two pounds are going to be really tough on both of us.
As for me, I am hoping to be able to drink from a glass again someday. For now I have to use the ultra-super-mega Verboten drinking straws. (I wouldn’t be surprised it Greta Thunberg comes ’round at night and beats me up.) For some reason I don’t bruise purple, I turn yellow/green. It looks I have smeared mustard all over my face where Toby hit me.
Despite the unpleasantness, I am glad that I finally understand Toby’s pain and was able to get him help. If we’re lucky, the medication and the weight loss might help him to feel good for a long time to come.
Go away. I don’t feel good.
(Don’t you mean “well”?)
(Do you want to get bitten again?!?)
Were you among the lucky who got chilly weather this week? If so, you know the value of a warm, cozy quilt.
This patchwork Butterfly Quilt can bring a touch of whimsy to your home. Whether resting on the back of the sofa or decorating the guest bedroom, the colorful handmade quilt will be a treasure for years to come.
Over the summer, I tried to keep busy by crocheting blankets to donate to the church when they collect baby gifts in the fall. Unfortunately crocheting and knitting really mess with my Bell’s Palsy, but I pushed through finishing as many blankets as I could to welcome new life.
On Saturday I took my donations to the church to place in the collection cradle. As I set them down, a lady walked over to me and suggested that I might want to put my name and number with the blankets because she didn’t know if they would be accepted, you know, because of covid. Try as I might, I couldn’t figure out how a malt in a yarn covered sweater had anything to do with baby blankets. I looked down at the very, very few donations in the cradle and wondered if the family dropping off the bag of diapers got a similar warning. Somehow I doubt it.
As I picked my blankets up to take with me, the lady tried to herd me back to the cradle, saying that I could put them back in. (Mind you, everyone at this church is scared witless by covid yet the woman stood mere inches from me.) I told her no thank you: I knew of other groups that would welcome my gift and walked out.
Within hours, a different church gladly accepted my donation. They are experiencing a lock down baby boom and need lots of gifts to help welcome new members. Thank heavens the Protestants ’round here aren’t too scared to live.
I told you you should have spent that time doting on me and not messing with that stupid yarn!
This time of year, the nights become chilly. Make sure you or someone you care about is wrapped in both beauty and love with this hand stitched Rose Afghan.
For more details, click here. Rose Afghan is available from my shop.
Don’t worry. Toby is fine. He doesn’t have to go to the vet; I do.
I don’t need the vet. I’m perfect.
I thought I had a handle on my eye problems, but on Monday my eye swelled up like a Greg Nicotero creation. When Friday came along and I still wasn’t feeling well, I decided to call the doctor. We’ll find out on Monday if I can go back to being me or if I have to move to Georgia to work as an extra on The Walking Dead.
If you are in or might be visiting New York City, don’t forget to stop by The Museum of the Dog! Help to rebuild NYC while celebrating humankind’s best friend. If you can’t go in person, consider buying a gift from the museum’s gift shop.
Curious what pups might do in a museum geared for dogs? Then pick up a copy of Dream Our World.
I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to post this story. I drew it several years ago when Geordie was hronking and Toby was reverse sneezing. They made such a cacophony together! I figured it was allergies and gave them some medicine so they could rest.
Not long after, I found out that lung cancer was the real reason behind Geordie’s funny noises. I felt awful that I made fun of my poor puppy when he was seriously sick.
Geordie assuaged my guilt somewhat by living far beyond what the vet predicted. When he finally left, he went on his own terms – old age. He never did succumb to the cancer.
Oil painting of Westie puppy.
Capture a memory of your own amazing furbeast with a pet portrait from L Bowman Studios. Visit my site for more information on sizes and pricing.
Years ago, I worked for a company doing repairs. One day, a hugely wealthy client called for a repair job at his mansion. (The residence was referred to as The Compound) I refused to go unless I had an escort. The company did not want to pay two employees to make one service call, so the work ended up being done at the business, not the mansion. Over the years I would occasionally think about that incident and wonder what I may have missed by not going into such an expensive home.
Last week, I watched a “Who Killed Jeffery Epstein” special to catch up on what had been going on since I hadn’t been keeping up with current events. I hadn’t realized that one of Epstein’s good buddies was Les Wexner – the owner of the mansion where my repair job was supposed to be done. What was even creepier was that according to the program, this would have been right during the time period where Wexner’s residences were used by Epstein to lure and abuse young women.
Part of the job I did for the Wexner estate was making throw pillows for couches. Now I wonder what atrocities those poor pillows may have witnessed….or participated in. Ick.
Ew, just thinking about that makes me yark.
If you would like to meet some throw pillows that have not been used in a scandalous fashion, please check out my store at L Bowman Studios. These Royal Velvet Pillows can be used as accents on furniture or for grandchildrens’ fantasy play or even as a touch of whimsy in your own home.
My county was so desperate for poll workers that they put out appeals on the news and on Facebook. Civic minded me thought that I would volunteer. After talking to a representative from the Board of Elections, I found out that the job is a 14 hour shift. No wonder they are having trouble finding people able to work. There is no way I could put in a day that long.
It is disappointing how many things I am unqualified to do.
How about napping for 14 hours?
I bet you could do that.
My boys are still running amok, unsupervised, in the local museum. Are there any museums open right now? Ours show no signs of it.
If you would like to experience The Museum of the Imagination, pick up a copy of Dream Our World!
When this virus first arrived, the news was filled with horror stories of shortages. It saddened me to read of so much need and know there was nothing I could do. But wait. The Red Cross needed blood. Surely I could at least donate blood!
Off I trekked to the Red Cross website to find the nearest donation location only to find that I do not qualify. Despite being lumpy and chubby, I do not meet their weight criteria. (I am not underweight, I am just very short.) Even in this time of crisis, my gift is unwanted.
In Dream Our World, Bitey and Toby visit the Museum of the Imagination where they insert themselves into the artwork. Plus, they get to enjoy a day of unsupervised fun because all the humans are banned from public spaces.
My last post was about Bitey and Toby’s book finally being assigned a card catalog number. I found out I was mistaken about an hour after I posted, so I hurried to hide the post before I could embarrass myself. Oops, instead I just made the post so that no one could comment on it. If I were my own employee, I would fire myself.
Anyway, please forget any mention of Bitey making it into the library system. He’s not there yet.
Dream Our World is available from Amazon in case you would like to read it!