Katastrophe
August 9th, 2009, 12:41 AM
As promised in another thread, here ya go, one baaaaaad week. This all happened about 2.5 months ago. This is a long post. Thanks for reading.
Monday: Mrs. Kat goes out of town for her job. I send our dogs, Kickers and Snickers, over to my mothers' house for her to watch, as I'm working about 14 hrs a day and can't care for them while Mrs. Kat isn't home. Mom reports that Snickers is walking funny, like she has a hurt back (Snickers is a daschund, and very prone to back problems). Mom takes dog to vet.
Tuesday: Mrs. Kat, while in Ft. Worth (several hours away from home), has a sudden, violent migraine headache. In blinding pain and throwing up, she manages to find a hospital. She had no prior history of migraines, and reports that the ER docs were concerned, due to the severity of the incident. She manages to get a coworker to help her back to her hotel.
Wednesday: Mrs. Kat returns home and watches Snickers slip on a patch of wet concrete, twisting her back more. Another trip to the vet, who reports that our dog has multiple slipped discs in her back, and would probably never walk right again. We're given orders to isolate her and observe her.
Thursday: Not much to report this day.
Friday: Mrs. Kat calls me as I'm driving back to our depot at about 9:00 pm. I answer the phone and she says simply, "Don't freak. Fire." Okaaaaay. Everyone's all right. I won't go into details, but the fire was accidental, in the garage, and was small. The amount of property we lost was small. There was a ton of smoke damage. All of my guitars were in the garage, along with my amph. I know, I know, guitars don't belong in a garage. My Strat's maple neck and fretboard, along with the pick guard, are now stained by the smoke, but otherwise the guitars still play fine. Mrs. Kat's quick reaction saved the whole house from burning.
Saturday: We take Snickers outside, and notice that she is walking on the tops of her back feet and is in obvious pain. Poor thing was trying to walk, and it just wasn't working. She was yelping a lot. Mrs. Kat and I talked about it, and decided it was time. Mrs. Kat and I raised Snickers from a 4 week old puppy. I held her in my arms when she was put down, and cried myself into a slobbering mess. Went home and started with the cleanup on the garage.
Monday: Mrs. Kat goes out of town for her job. I send our dogs, Kickers and Snickers, over to my mothers' house for her to watch, as I'm working about 14 hrs a day and can't care for them while Mrs. Kat isn't home. Mom reports that Snickers is walking funny, like she has a hurt back (Snickers is a daschund, and very prone to back problems). Mom takes dog to vet.
Tuesday: Mrs. Kat, while in Ft. Worth (several hours away from home), has a sudden, violent migraine headache. In blinding pain and throwing up, she manages to find a hospital. She had no prior history of migraines, and reports that the ER docs were concerned, due to the severity of the incident. She manages to get a coworker to help her back to her hotel.
Wednesday: Mrs. Kat returns home and watches Snickers slip on a patch of wet concrete, twisting her back more. Another trip to the vet, who reports that our dog has multiple slipped discs in her back, and would probably never walk right again. We're given orders to isolate her and observe her.
Thursday: Not much to report this day.
Friday: Mrs. Kat calls me as I'm driving back to our depot at about 9:00 pm. I answer the phone and she says simply, "Don't freak. Fire." Okaaaaay. Everyone's all right. I won't go into details, but the fire was accidental, in the garage, and was small. The amount of property we lost was small. There was a ton of smoke damage. All of my guitars were in the garage, along with my amph. I know, I know, guitars don't belong in a garage. My Strat's maple neck and fretboard, along with the pick guard, are now stained by the smoke, but otherwise the guitars still play fine. Mrs. Kat's quick reaction saved the whole house from burning.
Saturday: We take Snickers outside, and notice that she is walking on the tops of her back feet and is in obvious pain. Poor thing was trying to walk, and it just wasn't working. She was yelping a lot. Mrs. Kat and I talked about it, and decided it was time. Mrs. Kat and I raised Snickers from a 4 week old puppy. I held her in my arms when she was put down, and cried myself into a slobbering mess. Went home and started with the cleanup on the garage.