Petroville » The Danes

Choked Up

Kimberly — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 01:11:19 +0000

Right now, I’m sitting in a recliner next to my napping husband in our west coast pad while a whole gaggle of Petro teens frolic in the city. We made it out of Virginia Thursday night on the reverse red eye just as the icy mix began to stick. As it turned out, the kids didn’t miss a day of school on Friday after all because it was closed due to the weather. So instead of worrying about driving around on icy roads, I’m relaxing in San Francisco where it’s raining which only reinforces my want/need to snuggle up on the couch with the Mr. and be thankful for the way things work out…sometimes.

One year ago this weekend, my kids and husband were in here while I stayed in Virginia and did the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do – put Lillian to sleep. Tomorrow it will be one year to the day that she died. Sometimes, I get choked up because I feel like can’t remember how she smelled. Other days, I fully expect to see her stretching out in the sun on the rug when I wake up in the morning. Needless to say, I continue to miss her terribly and with my whole heart.

Last weekend, I was choked up as well but in more of a 911 kind of way. We were holding our annual Jazzercise potluck New Year’s party at my house and had just filled our plates when something went dreadfully wrong inside of my esophagus. What I thought was just a harmless bite of brie baked in pastry transformed into a cement dam inside of my airway. I was choking.

Never mind that I know the Heimlich maneuver or that I was surrounded by a room of women who are trained in it as well as CPR but instead of rushing in for help or giving the international sign for choking (which never even occurred to me) I ran away from everyone in a panic. My screwy thought process was to keep drinking water until the clog passed however my anxiety tripled when the water I was gulping went halfway down, hit the brick wall of brie and then made its way back up and flying out of my mouth. And I realized that I could not breathe.

It was the lack of air that made me decide to scream for help but when I tried, no sound would come out. So I did the only logical thing, I started beating on the walls. This failed to get anyone’s attention so I put my fist at the bottom of the middle of my ribcage and threw myself at the wall. It was a painful act but it eventually gave me enough of a jolt to trigger a coughing fit. That led to the deadly appetizer eventually shooting out and left me sounding like an 80-year old chain smoker for the reminder of the night.

Let me just tell you that when the party starts with you almost dying, it gets pretty darn crazy from there. I mean, after you save your own life, you feel like you owe it to yourself to celebrate.

And that we did. Possibly too much…

Thanks to everyone who voted for my picture. I didn’t win but I was thrilled to be showcased among such amazing talent!

Post from: Petroville No scraping.

Choked Up

Share it:

Add to del.icio.us

Search blogs linking this post with Technorati

Want more on these topics ? Browse the archive of posts filed under Beyond the Woods, The Danes, Vacation.

Bloody Monday

Kimberly — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 16:14:40 +0000

Great Danes are surprisingly fragile for their size. I can’t tell you how many times someone has asked if I put a saddle on my dogs and ride them. That answer would be a big no…it would most likely cause a severe back injury. I know the dogs are big but honestly, I don’t think they know it. Remember how Scooby Doo would jump up into Shaggy’s arms out of fright?

They have no idea how large they are.

Imagine an animal weighing 150 pounds (or a human) running around your house, happily whipping a tail back and forth that’s longer than your arm. Great Dane owners need to be ready for the occasional broken lamp or vase but when the thing that they break is their own tail open, life can get messy. This condition is called “Happy Tail” and we have been dealing with it for 6 weeks now.

Yesterday morning was the worst ever…

I spent over 2 hours cleaning the walls and another 2 at the vet getting his tail wrapped. I ordered a more humane collar for Jack to wear so that he isn’t so freaked out. (When he wears the traditional cone collar, he likes to head-butt people with it in hopes of removing it or knocking them down.)

You can tell Jack loves the look.

I know that my last post was all yummy deliciousnes but today is (Reee – Reee- Reee) gory day.

You’re super glad I share these photos, right?

Post from: Petroville No scraping.

Bloody Monday

Share it:

Add to del.icio.us

Search blogs linking this post with Technorati

Want more on these topics ? Browse the archive of posts filed under The Danes.

He Loves Him

Kimberly — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 23:02:34 +0000

We knew about Max when we adopted him and were totally cool with his sexuality.

However, we had no idea he would go canine.

Post from: Petroville No scraping.

He Loves Him

Share it:

Add to del.icio.us

Search blogs linking this post with Technorati

Want more on these topics ? Browse the archive of posts filed under Pussy Cats, The Danes.

Big Things

Kimberly — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 23:05:24 +0000

I almost missed it. I got so caught up in the excitement that I forgot to celebrate my 1 year anniversary. It was one year ago yesterday, Election Day 2008, that I quit smoking cold turkey. Yes, I miss it and yes, I am a few pounds heavier but every time I am weak I remember how cancer took away one of my dearest friends. I recall the day I chose to break the nasty habit and I think, “Yes, I can.” One day at a time, one month at a time…and now it has been a whole year.

Happy Anniversary to my lungs.

The excitement I got caught up in is big news, too. I am now a contributor here.

My subject matter? Teen and Tweens.

Yes, the mother fucking Washington Times.

I’m looking at it as a reward…

Post from: Petroville No scraping.

Big Things

Share it:

Add to del.icio.us

Search blogs linking this post with Technorati

Want more on these topics ? Browse the archive of posts filed under Me... Just Me, The Danes, Washington Times.

What Would They Tell Us?

Kimberly — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 00:48:40 +0000

We’ve all wondered it at one time or another…

What would my pet say if they actually could talk?

Well, I’ve got the next best thing. Follow me.

Post from: Petroville No scraping.

What Would They Tell Us?

Share it:

Add to del.icio.us

Search blogs linking this post with Technorati

Want more on these topics ? Browse the archive of posts filed under Contests, Pussy Cats, The Danes.