Hello world! Good to see you again!
Yep, I'm still alive. It's so strange to be reading my LJ again after all these years, but I've missed a lot of you wonderful people, so I decided to see who's still around.
I'm doing good; much better than I was doing 4 years ago. I've lost some of my doggies to old age, but I've got a brand new puppy in return (Pics below the cut), and last year I got to spend some time in the hospital, alas. But you can read all about that below the cut.
I'll just talk about the major stuff that's happened in the last 2 years, otherwise I'll be here all day. In March 2010 Jerry, my German Shepherd, died at 14 years and 3 months old. I know, I never expected her to live that long, but I'm of course grateful to have had her with me for all that time. She started getting a lot of trouble getting up, and when I took her to the vet one last time I was sure it was her hips, but as it turned out what was really messing her up was her lower back (some nerves got tied up there, a common ailment for German Shepherds). I got some pain medication from the vet, and we tried that for a few days, but then Jerry gave a very clear signal that this was as far as she wanted to go. She stopped eating one night, even refused some treats, so I called the vet the next morning, and she came over to my house to help Jerry pass on. Jerry died peacefully in my arms. I still miss her something awful, but I'm ever so grateful that I had her in my life for so many years.
About a week after Jerry died, I got some stomach problems. I got sick one evening out of the blue, and I thought it was just stress or maybe something I ate. This went on until the summer (me getting sick every two weeks or so, no matter what I ate). Then I finally went to see my doctor, who did all sorts of tests, even sent me to the hospital for some tests, and then they still weren't able to figure out what it was. So I got some stomach meds, and that seemed to help with the pain I was feeling whenever I got sick. Then in the late fall of 2010, I got sick to such a degree that I couldn't eat or drink anything without throwing up. I had terrible pain in my stomach, and my pee turned brown and my eyes turned yellow.
That's when my doctor sent me to the hospital straight away where I got to spend the night since my liver was very, very unhappy at that point. They finally concluded that I had gal stones, and I was in and out of the hospital for a few days while they tried to dislodge the stones (which were stuck, apparently, causing me to constantly throw up, suffer great pains and was messing up my liver) by sticking a huge tube down my throat. This seemed to help for a few days, but then the whole thing returned with a vengeance, and I was in so much pain I drove to the hospital at 4 am and begged them for some pain meds (which they gave me by sticking a huge needle in my thigh and I got to spend the night there again).
That's when they decided to just remove my gal bladder, which they did three days before Christmas last year. So I got to have surgery and everything went very well, and I was able to go home the next day and spend Christmas with my family. Since I've had my gal bladder removed I've been feeling SO MUCH better physically. I had no idea how much that silly thing was messing up my life until they removed it.
This whole ordeal was a wakeup call for me, though. For a long time, no one knew what was wrong with me, and I imagined all sorts of horror scenarios, and that was enough of a kick in my butt to get me to actively improve my health. I joined an online group for people with eating disorders, and learned through online lessons with a therapist to control my sugar addiction. Since the year I've been doing that, I've lost quite a bit of weight (no idea how much, since I don't own a scale and don't want to own one, but I'm down some dress sizes, yay!) and I had a lot more energy, so I was able to be much more active (take walks, etc).
And just when my life was really looking up this past summer, I lost my little Bull Terrier Angel. I was waiting for the moment that Tommy my oldest Border Collie would give me a sign that he was ready to pass on, since Tommy was deaf and blind at that point, and was very stiff and had some balance problems after suffering a few minor aneurysms that past year (which all healed with some meds). But then, one night in August, when Angel was a whopping 15 years and 3 months old, she went to bed with me, happy and cuddly, like she always was, and the next morning she didn't wake up.
That was quite a shock for me, as you can imagine, but at the same time I was very happy for her, that she got to live to such an old age without too many physical problems, and then died in her sleep. I still miss her something terrible, though.
That's when I decided it was time for a new family member. Tommy was 14 years and 9 months old at that point, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I lost him as well, and Elmo my other Border Collie was 12, and even though he was still in very good health, 12 years old is already pretty old for a Border Collie.
I spent a lot of time thinking what kind of dog I wanted to add to my little family. I considered getting another German Shepherd or Border Collie, but I had to be honest with myself. These are both breeds that need to work, that need a lot of attention, and while I'm doing much better that I have been, I knew I couldn't make that commitment and give such a dog what they deserved. I still wanted a shepherd breed, though, so after some careful consideration I decided to get a Welsh Corgi Cardigan. They're very much a shepherd, with the personality of one, but they have very short legs, and thus are of a very convenient size.
So, let me introduce you to Pippin, my blue merle Welsh Corgi Cardigan (born June 23 2011).
Pippin, the day I got him, when he was just 8 weeks old.
When I went to pick him up at the breeder's, I still wasn't sure what to name him, but when I saw him my first thought was: aw, he looks like a little hobbit, with those short legs, and thus I knew at once what to call him. And he sure lives up to his name: he's a happy go lucky little fellow, full of mischief and humor and he's such a sweet little boy.
Tommy didn't mind one bit that I brought a new dog home (he couldn't see or hear him, but he could smell the little bugger). Elmo on the other hand, considered this a personal betrayal. When I put Pip down on the floor for the first time, Elmo sniffed him a few times and then bit him. Poor Pip didn't know what hit him. And this continued for the next couple of weeks. Pip started idolizing Elmo something awful and wanted nothing more than play with his big brother, while Elmo spent all his energy on avoiding the intruder, and when they did make contact , all Elmo did was raise his lip, show his teeth, and bite at the puppy.
In September, just a few weeks after I lost Angel, Tommy had had enough. He stopped eating, and that's when I called the vet. She came over and helped Tommy pass on. And while this hurt, of course, it wasn't such a big shock for me. I'd seen it coming for months. It was interesting, though, to see how differently you can react to losing a beloved pet. With Angel, it was all just a big shock, since she'd seemed perfectly healthy right up until her sudden death. With Tommy, I knew the time was coming, and when he was ready to go, I knew this was the only right decision to make. I miss my wonderful buddy still, though.
And then a small miracle happened: Elmo accepted Pippin and even started to like him. Pip did his very best to engage Elmo in play, and finally Elmo returned the favor and ever since then these two boys have been getting along great. They sleep together on the couch, they play together (chasing and roughhousing) and Elmo has become the perfect big brother to my little puppy.
Elmo and Pip lounging. This was the first thing Elmo allowed Pip to do: lying down against him near his head (which at first he wouldn't tolerate)
Elmo and Pippin playing together for the first time. They haven't stopped this kind of play ever since Elmo gave in and just let the little guy play with him.
Elmo and Pippin together in Elmo's basket. This picture was taken just last week, and I was amazed Elmo let Pip into his basket, since that had still been sacred ground until then.
Elmo is doing fine. He broke his leg in 2007, as some of you might still remember, but he made a full recovery. His broken leg is still a bit crooked, but he uses it and it doesn't bother him. He's 12 years old now, but he still has the energy and the attitude of a 3 year old dog. And having Pip around has certainly given him a second youth. Ever since I've gotten Pip, I've been taking the dogs for twice daily walks. Every afternoon, we go out and explore my village for an hour or so, and this has taken me to places I'd never even been before. Man, I'm still amazed I'm able to walk for an hour every day without any problems, since I was physically a mess before I took action and improved my lifestyle. But I enjoy my walks, and so do the dogs, of course.
So, there you have some of the most important events of my life over the past 2 years. I'm very happy to say that I'm doing so much better than I was doing 4 years ago. I'm healthier, happier and I have far more energy to take care of myself, my dogs and my house. I've still got a way to go, but things are definitely looking up.
As for fandom: I haven't been active in any fandom for the last 4 years. I've been reading fics every once in a while whenever the mood struck me, both in HP and other fandoms (some old and some new), but I never had the urge to become active again. Not even sure I have that urge now, but I did miss the people involved in fandom, so that's why I'm now posting in my lj again. I can't make you any promises if I'll ever write something again, or if I'll read my lj on a regular basis, but just this first contact after so many years with my favorite fandom is making me very happy.
Good to see you again, you guys! :-)
I'm doing good; much better than I was doing 4 years ago. I've lost some of my doggies to old age, but I've got a brand new puppy in return (Pics below the cut), and last year I got to spend some time in the hospital, alas. But you can read all about that below the cut.
I'll just talk about the major stuff that's happened in the last 2 years, otherwise I'll be here all day. In March 2010 Jerry, my German Shepherd, died at 14 years and 3 months old. I know, I never expected her to live that long, but I'm of course grateful to have had her with me for all that time. She started getting a lot of trouble getting up, and when I took her to the vet one last time I was sure it was her hips, but as it turned out what was really messing her up was her lower back (some nerves got tied up there, a common ailment for German Shepherds). I got some pain medication from the vet, and we tried that for a few days, but then Jerry gave a very clear signal that this was as far as she wanted to go. She stopped eating one night, even refused some treats, so I called the vet the next morning, and she came over to my house to help Jerry pass on. Jerry died peacefully in my arms. I still miss her something awful, but I'm ever so grateful that I had her in my life for so many years.
About a week after Jerry died, I got some stomach problems. I got sick one evening out of the blue, and I thought it was just stress or maybe something I ate. This went on until the summer (me getting sick every two weeks or so, no matter what I ate). Then I finally went to see my doctor, who did all sorts of tests, even sent me to the hospital for some tests, and then they still weren't able to figure out what it was. So I got some stomach meds, and that seemed to help with the pain I was feeling whenever I got sick. Then in the late fall of 2010, I got sick to such a degree that I couldn't eat or drink anything without throwing up. I had terrible pain in my stomach, and my pee turned brown and my eyes turned yellow.
That's when my doctor sent me to the hospital straight away where I got to spend the night since my liver was very, very unhappy at that point. They finally concluded that I had gal stones, and I was in and out of the hospital for a few days while they tried to dislodge the stones (which were stuck, apparently, causing me to constantly throw up, suffer great pains and was messing up my liver) by sticking a huge tube down my throat. This seemed to help for a few days, but then the whole thing returned with a vengeance, and I was in so much pain I drove to the hospital at 4 am and begged them for some pain meds (which they gave me by sticking a huge needle in my thigh and I got to spend the night there again).
That's when they decided to just remove my gal bladder, which they did three days before Christmas last year. So I got to have surgery and everything went very well, and I was able to go home the next day and spend Christmas with my family. Since I've had my gal bladder removed I've been feeling SO MUCH better physically. I had no idea how much that silly thing was messing up my life until they removed it.
This whole ordeal was a wakeup call for me, though. For a long time, no one knew what was wrong with me, and I imagined all sorts of horror scenarios, and that was enough of a kick in my butt to get me to actively improve my health. I joined an online group for people with eating disorders, and learned through online lessons with a therapist to control my sugar addiction. Since the year I've been doing that, I've lost quite a bit of weight (no idea how much, since I don't own a scale and don't want to own one, but I'm down some dress sizes, yay!) and I had a lot more energy, so I was able to be much more active (take walks, etc).
And just when my life was really looking up this past summer, I lost my little Bull Terrier Angel. I was waiting for the moment that Tommy my oldest Border Collie would give me a sign that he was ready to pass on, since Tommy was deaf and blind at that point, and was very stiff and had some balance problems after suffering a few minor aneurysms that past year (which all healed with some meds). But then, one night in August, when Angel was a whopping 15 years and 3 months old, she went to bed with me, happy and cuddly, like she always was, and the next morning she didn't wake up.
That was quite a shock for me, as you can imagine, but at the same time I was very happy for her, that she got to live to such an old age without too many physical problems, and then died in her sleep. I still miss her something terrible, though.
That's when I decided it was time for a new family member. Tommy was 14 years and 9 months old at that point, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I lost him as well, and Elmo my other Border Collie was 12, and even though he was still in very good health, 12 years old is already pretty old for a Border Collie.
I spent a lot of time thinking what kind of dog I wanted to add to my little family. I considered getting another German Shepherd or Border Collie, but I had to be honest with myself. These are both breeds that need to work, that need a lot of attention, and while I'm doing much better that I have been, I knew I couldn't make that commitment and give such a dog what they deserved. I still wanted a shepherd breed, though, so after some careful consideration I decided to get a Welsh Corgi Cardigan. They're very much a shepherd, with the personality of one, but they have very short legs, and thus are of a very convenient size.
So, let me introduce you to Pippin, my blue merle Welsh Corgi Cardigan (born June 23 2011).
Pippin, the day I got him, when he was just 8 weeks old.
When I went to pick him up at the breeder's, I still wasn't sure what to name him, but when I saw him my first thought was: aw, he looks like a little hobbit, with those short legs, and thus I knew at once what to call him. And he sure lives up to his name: he's a happy go lucky little fellow, full of mischief and humor and he's such a sweet little boy.
Tommy didn't mind one bit that I brought a new dog home (he couldn't see or hear him, but he could smell the little bugger). Elmo on the other hand, considered this a personal betrayal. When I put Pip down on the floor for the first time, Elmo sniffed him a few times and then bit him. Poor Pip didn't know what hit him. And this continued for the next couple of weeks. Pip started idolizing Elmo something awful and wanted nothing more than play with his big brother, while Elmo spent all his energy on avoiding the intruder, and when they did make contact , all Elmo did was raise his lip, show his teeth, and bite at the puppy.
In September, just a few weeks after I lost Angel, Tommy had had enough. He stopped eating, and that's when I called the vet. She came over and helped Tommy pass on. And while this hurt, of course, it wasn't such a big shock for me. I'd seen it coming for months. It was interesting, though, to see how differently you can react to losing a beloved pet. With Angel, it was all just a big shock, since she'd seemed perfectly healthy right up until her sudden death. With Tommy, I knew the time was coming, and when he was ready to go, I knew this was the only right decision to make. I miss my wonderful buddy still, though.
And then a small miracle happened: Elmo accepted Pippin and even started to like him. Pip did his very best to engage Elmo in play, and finally Elmo returned the favor and ever since then these two boys have been getting along great. They sleep together on the couch, they play together (chasing and roughhousing) and Elmo has become the perfect big brother to my little puppy.
Elmo and Pip lounging. This was the first thing Elmo allowed Pip to do: lying down against him near his head (which at first he wouldn't tolerate)
Elmo and Pippin playing together for the first time. They haven't stopped this kind of play ever since Elmo gave in and just let the little guy play with him.
Elmo and Pippin together in Elmo's basket. This picture was taken just last week, and I was amazed Elmo let Pip into his basket, since that had still been sacred ground until then.
Elmo is doing fine. He broke his leg in 2007, as some of you might still remember, but he made a full recovery. His broken leg is still a bit crooked, but he uses it and it doesn't bother him. He's 12 years old now, but he still has the energy and the attitude of a 3 year old dog. And having Pip around has certainly given him a second youth. Ever since I've gotten Pip, I've been taking the dogs for twice daily walks. Every afternoon, we go out and explore my village for an hour or so, and this has taken me to places I'd never even been before. Man, I'm still amazed I'm able to walk for an hour every day without any problems, since I was physically a mess before I took action and improved my lifestyle. But I enjoy my walks, and so do the dogs, of course.
So, there you have some of the most important events of my life over the past 2 years. I'm very happy to say that I'm doing so much better than I was doing 4 years ago. I'm healthier, happier and I have far more energy to take care of myself, my dogs and my house. I've still got a way to go, but things are definitely looking up.
As for fandom: I haven't been active in any fandom for the last 4 years. I've been reading fics every once in a while whenever the mood struck me, both in HP and other fandoms (some old and some new), but I never had the urge to become active again. Not even sure I have that urge now, but I did miss the people involved in fandom, so that's why I'm now posting in my lj again. I can't make you any promises if I'll ever write something again, or if I'll read my lj on a regular basis, but just this first contact after so many years with my favorite fandom is making me very happy.
Good to see you again, you guys! :-)