I recently bought some mugs from the op shop across the street because this and one other mug were the only two cups I had big enough to make a cup of tea that would satisfy me. I drink an obscene amount of tea in a day.
Bearsy’s nails were getting way too long. He hates anyone touching his feet, but I managed to catch a glimpse of one of the back toenails that had grown so long it was curling over towards the paw. I’ve been doing a few internet searches and reading up on the available information. If the nail grows too long, it can dig into the paw and can affect the dog’s gait, potentially causing serious health problems like arthritis later on!
I didn’t know dog owners should get their pets used to having their paws held and handled from a young age. So I am starting late, and it will be a long-term project, but already in the last few days there has been sweet progress! Instead of immediately recoiling, he now lets me touch and even hold his paw gently, albeit for short amounts of time. Once I get him to a stage where he is more comfortable with me handling his paw, I’m going to introduce him to the clippers. Apparently you should hold them near him, let him sniff them, and then gently tap them on his nails.
So it will be a long gradual process, but I hope that someday I will be able to cut his nails myself! It would be good to cut just the tips every week or fortnight in order to make the quick recede. In the past, I’ve always taken him to the groomers to get his nails cut. He hates going to the groomers. The level of discomfort varies with whoever is trimming his nails. He was having okay experiences there, but the last time I took him, he totally freaked out. The lady brought him out and asked me to hold him, and she cut into the quick and made him bleed. He clawed at me like crazy. And he even NIPPED her! After that negative experience, I was putting it off, hoping that regular walking would grind his nails down.
Unfortunately, he must walk funny, or SOMETHING because that one errant back paw nail grew long and curled. So while I am aiming to be trimming his nails myself, in the meantime I had to do something about that nail.
This morning we went to the groomers. I was prepared with plenty of treats in my pockets. I think he always knows where we’re going as soon as we hit Portrush Road, because he starts getting anxious. As soon as I let him out the car he started pulling the other way and putting up a fight, so I had to pick him up and carry him inside. No treats could distract him from clawing anxiously at the window once he was inside.
Fortunately, the girl who cut his nails was not the same lady as last time, and although he was apparently unwilling (I could hear intermittent whining) when she brought him out she said that he had been alright.
Yay! Relief! I had been really worried about him. The girl said that all his nails were quite short except for two very long ones, one on each back paw, that had curled over. Now the two long ones are no longer curled, and all the others have been cut back to the quick. In a week or two, I want to try tipping them again.
After our adventure at the groomers we went to visit my boyfriend’s house. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bear so happy. He sniffed EVERYTHING inside and out. And then he peed on the floor. Urgh.
Then we came home.
I love to take pictures of rooms, better than I like taking pictures of people. That’s why The Selby is one of my favourite places on the internet. I am getting my own place next year and already I am consumed with interior decor imaginings and searching for inspiration on Flickr.
Hello bedroom. I like this picture because it is warm and colourful. Getting dressed in the morning is a task that I revel in, yet it always takes way more time than it should and my bed always ends up a mess. This is the first house I’ve lived in with floorboards and I am now of the opinion that they are way overrated. Dust gathers EVERYWHERE. It is impossible for me to sweep all the way under the bed, so there’s probably years of dust under there. Maybe I need a rug?
Hello dreamcatcher. It’s a gift from a friend and the ridiculous hanging hook thing is from the Vic Markets in Melbourne. I hardly ever remember my dreams and I am quite sure it’s because I don’t have dreams of substance. If I get woken suddenly in the midst of deep sleep or while I’m drifting off to sleep then I remember what I was dreaming and it’s usually either strings and strings of words without any meaning or just everyday stuff. Never anything scary or dramatic or amazing. This morning, crunchy boy woke me up early so I remember that I was dreaming about getting dressed. I was looking for my magenta and black thigh-high socks, lol. Good stuff, huh?
Hello, cluttered surface on top of my chest of drawers. Picture is from Seattle an was a present from my sisters when they were there. Random perfume bottles, lava lamp from ex boyfriend and without working light globe, sunscreen bottle that has been sitting there since Summer, bear toys and heaps of junk. The camera is a manual SLR of Dad’s from the seventies. He saved up for two months to get it. I have been having heaps of fun with it, learning how to use it. Today I’ll get my first roll of film developed. Hopefully it will turn out okay, but I reckon I’ll have a lot of either under-exposed or over-exposed pictures.
I’m no photographer, but these were really fun to take pictures of. I’ll do more some time.
Lastly, here is a picture of Mum’s winter melon crop.
This is Bear Bear. He is my favourite dog and the above photo is my favourite photo of him. Being a dog, he doesn’t enjoy posing for the camera, but I managed to snap him at the perfect moment and I love this photo because he looks like he is smiling.
We don’t usually put doggy clothes on Bear Bear. I think that they are kind of cruel. Bear is a West Highland White Terrier and they are known for having skin problems, it’s a genetic thing. His Ma or Pa may have had it. We have special medicated shampoo for him, which helps a lot, but recently the problem has flared up, maybe it’s seasonal, like hay fever? On this particular day, he had just been washed but was still scratching and biting himself under the arms so much that it was starting to bleed, so Mum whipped out this woolly doggy jumper. Bear Bear hated it at first, but it was probably for the best, and it was only for a couple of hours.
We are pack mates. Except I am higher up the pack hierarchy than him, he is at the bottom. Sorry, dog, that’s the way it is.