Today marks ten years since I found my little ladybug, aka O-Ren Ishii, aka Rennie, happy smiling at me from a teeny tiny lil’ cage in Animal Haven. We thought she was four, but nuh-uh: she was a year old when we adopted her at most. All the better for us! I can’t imagine calling her a fourteen-year-old quite yet.
I mean, look at that face! She even handles her cell phone like a pre-teen. (I kid, I kid. Like WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?)
I just wish her birthday fell on a happier day this year.
While today’s supposed to be freaking gorgeous, Peedee’s fourth chemo appointment is this afternoon. The timing is both sucky and completely unintentional. Actually, we’re probably leaving the house this very moment! (This post is from the queue.) Not only is it his fourth treatment in as many weeks; it’s also the first time they’ll be looking inside his lungs since they started, to see how the tumor’s reacting. They’ve been doing weekly bloodwork to monitor his immune system (so far, uncompromised), but today comes the big test. Actually, if he fails, they might not even bother with another round of chemo (frowny face).
So…cross your fingers for no change or, better yet, a little shrinkage. If it’s gotten significantly larger, they’re going to give up, which would be the worst. It’s also unlikely though, so.
BUT ANYWAY. I don’t want to put a damper on Rennie’s birthday/adoption day celebrations, so enough about that. But we’ll be bringing her along, so she doesn’t feel completely left out, and hopefully we’ll come back with a reason to celebrate. Cross your fingers and toes for us?
Rennie got to see President Atchison’s grave!
Either way, it’s walks at the lake and cemetery for Rennie (and Peedee – not only is he getting spoiled on account of the cancer, but his adopted day is this Sunday!) all weekend. I want to say that the cemetery is her fave, because that would be dope, but really I think she prefers the lake. Square!
Eleven Little Rennie Things
She is the baby piglet to Kaylee’s mama sow.
Sadly, Ralphie is the only dog short enough for her to mount, and he is entirely too old and too blind for this shit.
Fun story: Rennie overwhelmingly prefers found balls to store-bought ones, probably since they come with strange and exotic smells built right in. I often find tennis balls at the park, since it’s home to a (very cracked) tennis court. One time I found a whole pile of them, just sitting in the grass. I stuffed my jacket pockets with ’em and, when I got home, pulled them out of my pocket one at a time – slowly and with great dramatic effect – and threw them to her. Her eyes got real wide and at one point I thought her head might actually explode. She pounced on them – one, two, three, four-five-six! – running from one to another and back again. It was like her birthday and x-mas all rolled up into one.
Seriously, I can’t even tell you how happy that made me. Sappy but true.
Our local park boasts a few water spigots, helpfully placed at strategic points around the property. (Mostly near the baseball diamonds and pavilions.) While all are ringed with gravel (boo!), there’s one special fountain in the back whose base has been carved into a bowl – either intentionally, by some enterprising dog person, or from years of erosion, who knows? Either way, it makes a nice little pool to capture the water so the dogs can take a sip.
On especially hot days, Rennie makes a beeline for this particular field. After I’ve filled the crevice with water – her dancing impatiently around the stream the whole time – she likes to stretch out over the hole to cool off. Her pokey piggy belly fits perfectly into the curve of the ground. Words cannot express how much I love it. Some days I walk her just a little extra hard so she’ll want to go for a dip. The muddy fur? So worth it.
I’ve yet to get decent video of this event, so as an added bonus, I’ve thrown in a picture of her emerging from her mud hole and shaking off. Definitely one of my top ten favorite Rennie action shots.
The first few weeks after we started her exercise regimen, she was terrified: she swam at top speed, balls to the wall, eyes w i d e open in unadulterated fear. Then she became used to the chore, and started falling asleep with boredom. Some days I have to threaten to dunk her to jar her awake. Such a slacker.