Beagle Paradise, or, Dirtbunny's Cold, Day 36

This morning, Dirtbunny took her seventeen pills and settled in for another quiet day of recovering from the virus that wouldn't leave. I am not exaggerating about the 17 either. It really was 17, and I'm not elderly or anything. Sigh. A good thing about being sick is it means lots and lots of quiet time at home with the beagles. They love it, especially Kirby, who is training hard for the Snuggle Olympics.



Sadly, all is not exactly well with Kirbamente. He had a bladder infection a few weeks ago and we cleared that up, even had the test results to prove it. But it is now back, along with a new rod-shaped bacteria that the vet doesn't recognize, so we are waiting for test results from the big lab. He also has a big growth on his right knee (cytology results pending) and last night, his left foot hurt badly enough that he walked really funny and wouldn't let us look between his toes. Between Patient Dirtbunny (hahahahaha "patient" hahahahahaha) and Patient Kirby, The Man is about to go under from all the stress. Good thing it's a bye week for the Redskins. I don't think The Man could handle the drama from a Redskins game.



This morning, Kirby's foot is a lot better. We have decided not to go to the vet again for now unless it gets markedly worse. He has to go back in a few days when his test results come back, and the vet is traumatizing for Our Little Scaredy Guy. Besides, look at him frolicking this morning:













He isn't suffering, believe me, or we'd be at the vet right now. He even said hello to neighbor Lucy next door. Lucy always says hello to Kirby but Kirby usually ignores her.









The leaves are peaking this weekend. One of our maple trees (the stressed out one near the street) has already dropped his leaves, but the big one in the yard is bright yellow:








Mostly green last weekend, barely green at all now. Falling leaves are pretty and create lots of excellent sniffing opportunities. Is that the face of a happy boy or what?









Here it looks like the ivy goes right up to the street, doesn't it? Actually you can only see the top edge of the ivy. There is about a 10-foot steep sloping drop from there to the top of the retaining wall, and then about four feet of wall, and then the sidewalk, and then the street. He looks safe in the photo, but every time he goes there, I get a little queasy.








Doesn't he have the cutest dog butt ever? And where is Tiki? He's inside, sleeping. Don't bother him. And that's enough dog schmoop for now.




Our best trees are the three Japanese Maples in front. They are a brilliant crimson, which you can't tell at all from this crappy photo:







Next weekend, all that will be left is the dull brown of the oak trees. Being sick means being home to see it. I wish I weren't coughing, but life's not all bad.