It’s such a busy month. We celebrate Michael, Kenza and Donkey’s birthdays and Mother’s Day all just a few days apart. Michael got a lovely leather bracelet, and Donkey got a lovely hat, which he doesn’t think is so lovely.
And on Monday Cherry Berry had surgery to repair her severely luxating patella. It was a lengthy and painful 3.5-hour surgery and she really isn’t acting like she had surgery at all – which is bad – because having an active, 3-legged dog with a giant cone on its head herding you is a little annoying and really, really not so good for the furniture.
To add to the loving chaos my parents will be in town this weekend for Kenza’s birthday party. A birthday swim party, complete with eleven eleven-year-old girls. I can’t believe my baby turns 11 on Friday. ELEVEN. This past year she’s grown more than any year I can remember. She’s just as tall (or short) as I am and she has already surpassed my shoe size and is able text message faster than you can blink an eye. She’s very proud of her texting skills, especially since Mom stinks at texting.
Mom also stinks at running. Last week I had a good week of very slow wogging on the Sunshine PIMP. But this week isn’t so sunshiny. The ankle is mostly better, but now I have a very mysterious pain in the bottom of my left foot beneath my fourth toe. It was really bad this morning and I had to only walk on my heel for a good ten minutes or so. I’m not sure what it is but it comes and goes and is making me insane. And all this birthday cake is making for a FAT Runner Susan. Woe is the Runner Susan. Woe.
I did attempt to run my 15 miles yesterday. I made it 4.29 before my medulla oblongata, my sinus cavity and several of my teeth dropped into throat and forced me to stop. The same thing happened Saturday, however I only made it .61 miles of my attempt at a 1-mile run and was forced to use a Januarathon qualifiable sick day. I personally think I should get bonus miles for running near death, but that wasn’t in the original rules.
But on to more pressing things. This is Cherry. She’s a black tri Australian Shepherd – which, I believe, is fancy for Super Mutt. From what we’ve learned from Donkey, Australian Shepherds are extremely smart, active, gentle, and protective – all reasons why we wanted another one. Although, Donkey appears to be part Australian Shepherd and part moose, he’s about 30 pounds bigger than most Australian Shepherds, but we don’t tell him that. And Rowdy? Well he’s one part Maltese and one part Romeo. Who doesn’t love themselves a good dose of Rowdy.
I’m not sure why we Americans call them Australian Shepherds; they have nothing to do with Australia. Maybe it’s because they have so many darn cute animals. Someone show me a koala bear that isn’t cute?