This right here is someone I like to call Oh No, I Would NEVER Keep You Awake All Night With My Crying and Barking.
Tyson sleeps in a crate at night because he can’t be trusted not to make an appetizer of electrical cords. This is never a problem at Tim’s. Thursday night when Tim went in the hospital, Tyson and Rex stayed at Tim’s with Greg, and Greg said Rex was fine, but Tyson had a little trouble falling asleep. Since Tyson was going to adoption day on Saturday, we moved his crate over here and he spent Friday night with us. He whimpered a few times, but nothing serious. Saturday night, I didn’t put them in their crates until 4 a.m., and they were too tired to care. Sunday night, Tyson barked and cried all night long, so Monday night, I just shut all four dogs in the room with us and let them sleep uncrated because I was too exhausted to listen to him.
When I told Tim what was going on, he said Tyson was upset because he couldn’t SEE us. So we moved Rex’s and Tyson’s crates into our bedroom, intending to let the boys sleep in their crates and Margot and Guinness sleep with us (as usual). This left us with only a small path to move through our bedroom, plus we have to keep one of the bedroom doors closed to make room for a super size crate. But we don’t care because it worked. The barking and crying stopped.
Now Rex and Tyson actually want to get in their crates, but they keep getting taken over by squatters. Today, I intended to do a bunch of stuff, including taking a nap. Guinness and Margot stretched out together in Rex’s crate, Rex curled up against my back, and Tyson had my legs pinned down in case I tried to escape.
He needn’t have worried. When I went to the hospital early this morning, Tim looked fantastic. While I was there, they moved him out of ICU and into a room. He’s on serious pain medication and is very sleepy, so I’m staying away in hopes that he can get rest. He’s doing really, really well. Later, I’m taking back his gum, Jolly Ranchers, phone charger, jammies of his own to wear, and whatever else will fit in my backpack.
Yesterday, I spent most of the day looking at this:
Except sometimes when the door would open and I’d see things like this:
Tim isn’t visible behind a curtain at the end of that long hall, but I could see his anesthesiologist and assistants giving him his thoracic epidural. A few vertebrae lower, and he could have given birth.
Speaking of babies…
That’s the baby from the King Cake Greg brought us last week from New Orleans. They can no longer put the baby IN the cake (lawsuits!), so they sort of stick it under the cake. Anyway, I didn’t eat so many slices of King Cake because it was delicious and I’m a hog. I did it to find the baby. Except Greg found it. Now the baby can find YOU something to be happy about–OTHER than Tim’s recovery and Tyson’s restful nights–from this book if you comment with a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25.
FIRST!!!!
I’ve been waiting for this all day, by the way, and frankly, I don’t need anything to be happy about. Just knowing Tim’s okay and getting better by the minute is more than enough for me.
And now, as for Denver Carrington….
Randomly picked for you (just because):
“making at least a thousand dreams come true”
beware those open doors
For, they will cause earthquakes 😉
PS: (13, 275)
Re: beware those open doors
“door decorations for each season”
(It’s always about doors.)
Re: beware those open doors
Oh the IRONY!!! 😉
Or, maybe I was just lucky enough to comment about hypnotic doorways. I wouldn’t count this as door decor, thoguh.
First, “While I was there, they moved him out of ICU and into a room.” YAY!!
And I’ll take page 22, #22 please.
“the calm before the storm”
I can’t believe they don’t bake the babies anymore – seriously…it’s so wrong.
SO GLAD that Tim seems to be doing well.
Page 409 #8 please
It is wrong.
I’m glad, too!
And from the book:
“”on Christmas Eve, a stocking on each guest’s chair filled with funny and special gifts pertaining to each one’s interests”
Thanks for the Tim news!
(There’s somebody around here who knows all about crying and whining all night…)
Page 55, number 12 please.
You’re welcome. (Poor Tod.)
“drive-in trays hooked onto windows”
Don’t kick the baby.
116 and 16 please. 🙂
I won’t kick the baby.
From the book:
“honesty being so delightfully, pink-cheekedly seductive”
Awww, poor Tyson. Poor Becky! 😉
I’m so happy that Tim looks fantastic.
412, 21
Tonight he was in more pain, but he still looks like he’s recovering well. =)
“ad absurdum and ad nauseum”
(Latin, anyone?)
Thanks for the update. I was wondering all day how he
was doing.
Poor dogs! And poor Tim!
You’re very welcome.
I’d given up on Hump Day this week, figured you were a bit preoccupied (and wouldn’t have grumbled one bit if that were the case!).
Could I please have 13, 13 for Gordon and for me 316, 19?
Glad to hear the news from the hospital is good!
Thanks!
For Gordon (and Todd would like your number choice):
“plants on windowsills”
For you:
“democracy”
Glad to hear he’s doing well. Please pass on our good vibes to him. And by that I do not mean our favorite vibrators.
Thank you. In both cases. =)
Never having had pets, I’m always astonished by people who just know instincitvely what’s going on in their minds. Tim obviously has great empathy with the dogs, and I’m glad you fianlly got a peaceful night!
Fantastic news about Tim – sending many hopeful prayers and much love your and his way!
I’ve never heard of the King Cake / baby thing before – what an unusual idea!
Okay, then I’ll try the numbers game again – 25 and 611 please!
*hug*
Thanks for the hugs and prayers and hope and love!
From the book:
“hamburger pizza”
I must say I am terribly disappointed that no one posted a comment reading The dingo ate my baby!
I blame the invisible Marika.
Thanks for the updates! Great news all around.
The poor babies! At least Tim understands how to help them and you, even the new boy.
That’s why I call him the Dog Whisperer. And did even before there were dog whisperers on TV. Copycats. So to speak.