Wow!!

Christmas is excellent, the people who said so were correct. All kinds of cards have arrived - many with greetings for me! There is all sorts of excellent food everywhere.

Someone who may be Santa came for a visit, but her name starts with a K. She is kind like Santa, and I sat on her lap and whispered my wishes in her ear. Next thing I knew, there was a little box of Champagne Truffles under the Christmas tree!!!!!! Just as I'd wished for - candy!!!! Plus, I heard of this person's journey all over the world, to faraway lands, where she distributed cookies to people (and they gave cookies to her). That's what Santa does, right? So it must have been Santa, right here in my house!

Thank you K or Santa, or whatever your name is. You are nice!

--hce

PS - I admire the beauty of the new flowers in my house!

I'm in another place

My guardian at the moment cannot figure out how to set this as "in loving memory" - but as soon as she determines how she will update.

For Valentine's day, she cooked a wonderful dinner for me and Adam - filet mignon, sweet potatoes - the works! I had a wonderful day of playing and eating.

Just before midnight, I had a seizure. Then another, then another. I spent the night at the emergency clinic, and my guardian's mom came to town to help out. The bloodwork was dire.

To make a long story short, I had a great visit home - well, as great as it can be when you're really, really sick - in the afternoon, and when my seizures re-started, it was time for me to "cross the rainbow bridge."

Perhaps another time I will write about all the strange things that happened on earth in the days after I left it. But for now, I bid everyone farewell.

End here. Us then. Finn, again! Take. Bussoftlhee, mememormee! Till thousandsthee. Lps. The keys to. Given! A way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.
(Finnegans Wake, 628.13 to 3.3)

That is all.

F.

I can type while unconscious!!

Guess what? I'm unconscious at the vet's right now. Typing in that condition on somebody else's computer is quite a feat.

Not a good 12 hours. I'm told that around midnight, I began to have a seizure - not a bad one, but a seizure. My guardian allegedly gave me an injection, but I didn't come back to consciousness fast, so she decided to call people for a ride, since it's really, really snowy for a walk to the emerg clinic.

First called a certain someone who shall remain nameless whose mother (from out of town) would not pass the phone to that person, and then started asking directions to pick us up. Guardian decided this was not a good plan since the mom wanted to get dressed, is not a fast driver, and doesn' t know how to get to our home.

Next, she called Wendy, who kindly agreed to meet us out front - but was late because she had to move someone's car out of her driveway which she had difficulty doing.

We got to the vet's, I got treated, and Guardian demanded that she take me home so I would not be traumatized. In the past, my seizures have been so minor this has not been a problem.

We got home, and the front entrance to the building was broken - it can only be opened from the inside - can't buzz people in, can't get your security card to work. Another person was also stuck. Guardian was a little panicky, and guess what? (Allegedly) I started another seizure. They buzzed the super, who couldn't figure out what was going on at first and tried to buzz us in. Though he admitted the door had been broken since the day before! So Guardian buzzed Suzanne and we eventually got in.

By that point, I had to go BACK to emerge, so she went through the phone calls again, and Wendy (again) picked us up. This time, she left me there for the night so I could be on an IV.

At 7:00, she picked me up and transferred me to the day vet, where I am now on an IV.

Everyone suspects I have a brain tumor, but at the age of 17 there's no sense in having an MRI to determine something that I'm too old to treat. It's possible the tumor started to grow, or is inflamed. So, they will give me cortisone, plus a bunch of anticonvulsants, and see what happens. I will probably also get some new medicine when I go home...if I go home...I hope I can go home today....if I make it....

The day vet is not very hopeful about my prognosis. He hopes that I will make it through the day. However, he is not sure if I will even make it two more weeks.

Guardian had to call my lifelong vet (Dr. Feelgood) in Windsor to have my paper faxed over. She told him about everything, and asked what he thought. He was kind, and said anything's possible, and these are worst-case scenarios.

If my days are *that* numbered, I do hope I get lots and lots of racks of bbq ribs.

That is all. I must rest now.

f.

Traumatized!!!

That's it! I am NOT going to daycare any longer - you hear that, Guardian?!

Those reading this - I apologize for yet another rant/vent! I should preface my comments by saying I have had an excellent few weeks, largely due to a new favourite toy and tremendous success in sleeping through the night without interruption.

Now, back to my daycare complaints. First, two weeks ago, a little pomeranian named Mogli had a meltdown and nipped at me (and others), and I've been wary of daycare since. Yes, Mogli was put in solitary immediately - but still - who would have imagined???

Then, today was my last straw. I was nervous going there, and with the coming snowstorm a little arthritic. Within an hour, my back legs started sliding around on the floor, and I simply couldn't stand up! And there's no carpet! So I finally gave up, and just flopped down on the floor. The staff tried to call my Guardian, but she had her mobile phone off - what was she thinking?? She says she was determined to get provisions in case we are snowed in.

So I was stuck on that floor for what seems like days and days. Okay, it was only 2 hours, and I slept a good part of that time. The people there kept checking on me to make sure I was okay. But still. I was scared and cold. I howled most of the way home.

When I got home, the guilt got to my guardian, and she fed me many special treats. I was able to walk without incident on the carpet - and even on my own kitchen floor. I settled down for a well-deserved nap on my own bed.

But when I woke up, I wasn't sure if I was still stuck on that daycare floor, if I was left alone....I panicked. I freaked out. Guardian did her best to comfort me, and even made me a scrambled egg to help me forget. Then I went back to sleep.

I don't want to ever, ever, ever go back!

That is definitely all.

f.

Cease spinning, resume playing!

My urge to spin is finally gone! Now, I'd much rather play...of course, not by myself, but isn't that what humans are for???

Indeed, returning back to my home is taking a lot of adjustment, and I still haven't gotten back into my normal sleep routine after a topsy-turvey holiday. It's much more appealing to stay up most of the night, and sleep most of the day. I've been warned that this will soon (and forcefully) come to an end, and that daycare will re-open once Susan comes back from vacation. At that point, my daytime sleeping will be history. For those keeping score: Finnegan - 1++; Benzodiazapines - 0 [take that, Dr. Feelgood! You can't stop me!]

It's well into morning, so I think it's time for me to finally get some rest.

That is all,

F.

Fondly Remembering Roger

Yesterday was such a sad day for me - I got the news of my cyber-pal Roger's passing in the Dogster Miniature Poodle Friends forum. Like me, he was also 17 years old.

I never met Roger in person, but he had delightful photos, and he was a kind and generours poodle who offered me valuable advice about aging on many occasions. No doubt he gave his guardians 17 years of joy and love. I'll always remember him fondly.

I haven't posted a diary entry in a long time. I've been too busy worrying about my guardian's father's health, and spinning in circles at an extremely fast pace to type, and staying awake for many hours at a time. I also learned that ambulances and EMS workers at the house give me a seizure.

The aftermath of a very stressful December and January is that both I and my guardian are exhausted. Her father is okay and back home; I have a new batch of benzodiazpines to help me get calm and stay calm, and my guardian is encouraging me to nap a lot. You'd think it's altruistic of her, but really, she just wants to nap too.

I'm fighting a nap right now, but perhaps I should just give in and have one. Woops! I just feel out of bed. Gotta go.

That is all.

F.

Too much excitement!!!

So, since I last wrote in my diary, things got very exciting. My guardian cleaned very thoroughly. My guardian cooked a lot of food. Cook, guardian, cook! My guardian decorated. A party was coming! I could smell it!

Friday night, as the preparations were underway, I had a small seizure. My poor guardian freaked out, and had to call our neighbor Suzanne. Thank you Suzanne for helping out!

Even though it was a small seizure, I was completely wiped out. Indeed, there was a party planned for Saturday to celebrate my birthday, but my guardian had to scale it back to only two people to keep things calm and quiet while I recovered.

Even though I slept most of the day, it really was an excellent party once I woke up. I got to have some superb food, and the guests who did arrive brought me some tasty presents - thank you Adam for the filet mignon food, and Suzanne for the duck and turkey treats! I enjoyed them thoroughly. Did the uninvited guests have more presents for me? I think I might have been cheated out of some good stuff.

Life is back to normal. Yesterday, my guardian decided to enter the new millenium and get a mobile phone so that my sitters/daycare providers can call her if I have an emergency. I got to go to the store! Then today she took me to my favourite store, Holt Renfrew, to finish up our Christmas shopping. When I was young and lived la dolce vita in swanky downtown Toronto, I used to go there all the time. No store smells as clean to a dog's nose. I am happier there than in any other store!

It is a very, very civilized place, Holt Renfew. They welcome all dogs - unlike other retailers who remain "on notice" on my official noticeboard (I'm talking to YOU, Ikea and Starbucks!). Plus, Holt's "rebranded" just for me about a year back - all of their packaging and bags are now fuschia - the one colour a dog with advanced cataracts can see. Thank you Holt Renfew!

That is all. That shopping wore me out! Time to get some more sleep.

F.

I have to wait for my birthday????

I turned 17 today! It was not a bad day, though yesterday night there was a lot of excitement in the house, so I stayed up way too late, and was tired today. The owner of my local pet store gave me an AWESOME tennis ball toy as a gift!! My guardian bought me a jar of liver treats taller than I am. Too bad she's so stingy with them!!!

But apparently I have to wait until Saturday to have my real celebration - I know this is going to be a big deal, because my guardian has been doing things all week to prepare. I know there are presents for me...if only I could find them NOW!!

That is all.
F.

Taco Night in Canada!

Last night was "Taco Night in Canada" at my home - which doesn't happen too often, but sure is fun when it does. I knew it had to be taco night when my guardian started grating cheese and dicing vegetables - I was beside myself. Then, Adam came over, and the cooking began. I'm not really allowed to eat tacos, or any Mexican food, but they always have something special for me. This time, it was Oktoberfest sausages, which smell a lot better than tacos. It was a feast. I'm exhausted today from all the excitement.

Does this harness make me look fat? Apparently, we're going shopping for a new, nicer one today.

That is all.

F.

Daycare is fun!

In 1996, I went to daycare, and I loved, loved, loved it! But then my guardian's work situation became more Finnegan-friendly, so I didn't have to go any longer.

Now, ten years have past, and this fantastic thing called daycare has been re-introduced to my life. My guardian checked out the daycare facility a few weeks ago, and was impressed.

So, yesterday, we went for a "meet and greet" interview. My guardian told me to be on my best behaviour. She was nervous that I might be subject to age discrimination as is so common in the corporate world.

The meet and greet went well, and I got to meet lots of other dogs - but it seems none of them were over three years old! They were quite playful with one another, but they knew to be gentle with me. The play areas have half-walls in my favorite shade of fuscia, so despite my cataracts I see them pretty well. The "Alpha" of the place is lady named Susan, and she is kind and from a poodle's perspective fun.

When we got in home from the meet and greet, I was so happy and perky - it was a great outing.

Then, this morning, my guardian said we could go back to see Susan and the dogs! I haven't been so happy to get into the car in a very long time (see previous diary entries on my recent, unpleasant trips to the vet).

I was really happy to get to the daycare, but I was a little taken aback when my guardian took off!!!! I thought we would both stay there and play. I walked around for almost 4 hours until she returned, and I was too preoccupied to play with the others today.

Boy was I happy when we got home - I ran and played and did my poodle dance. Then, we ordered the "Tuesday special" from my favorite restaurant, "The Chicken Place." I don't have to tell you what the entree was.

We were lucky that meal arrived intact! My malti-poo neighbour, Emma, was offleash in the hallway, and chased the unsuspecting delivery man to our door (he hadn't noticed Emma's stealth strategy). Then Emma's guardian came up to the door and said "No! No!" as the delivery man placed the order on the floor to take the money. Lep was totally confused, as she hadn't seen the action to that point. Just then, we saw a little white bullet run up to the bag, and it all made sense. Poor Emma, she didn't get a morcel for her efforts.

It was perhaps the best meal I ever had, and I probably won't get a wink of sleep tonight knowing there's chicken left over in the fridge. I think I hear it calling..."Finnegan, Finnegan, I'm waiting for you!"

How long until breakfast???

F.