Peaches
Our house was built on the mountain and a deck in the backyard hung out over a cliff. Peaches played tag with the quail that lived under the deck, and would often come home with weeds and leaves tangled in her luxurious fur coat. It made me mad.
One day she came home crying—her stomach was covered with little sticky burrs. It served her right, I thought. She shouldn't have been under the deck again.
I took her to the groomers, hoping they could somehow brush them out. When I went to pick her up a few hours later, I didn't even recognize the poor pooch. The stickers were too entwined to comb them out, so the groomer had shaved her bare. Her naked belly had vivid red scratches from the thorns, and she trembled in the air-conditioned car, frightened and embarrassed. I pitied her and tossed her a bone.
Peaches was lucky—her stickers were poking from the outside, and could be snipped off. I feel like a thousand little needles are stabbing my stomach from the inside. Shingles is an inflammation of the nerve endings and I had no idea how many we have. Billions it seems.
The moral of my story is this: When a puppy acts poopy, toss her a bone. She might have a burr in her belly.
One day she came home crying—her stomach was covered with little sticky burrs. It served her right, I thought. She shouldn't have been under the deck again.
I took her to the groomers, hoping they could somehow brush them out. When I went to pick her up a few hours later, I didn't even recognize the poor pooch. The stickers were too entwined to comb them out, so the groomer had shaved her bare. Her naked belly had vivid red scratches from the thorns, and she trembled in the air-conditioned car, frightened and embarrassed. I pitied her and tossed her a bone.
Peaches was lucky—her stickers were poking from the outside, and could be snipped off. I feel like a thousand little needles are stabbing my stomach from the inside. Shingles is an inflammation of the nerve endings and I had no idea how many we have. Billions it seems.
The moral of my story is this: When a puppy acts poopy, toss her a bone. She might have a burr in her belly.
♫ No-body knows the trouble I've seen . . . ♫
I feel so bad for you. Sounds positively horrid. If we lived closer, I'd bring you a coconut cake and a large coke. Even that might not make you feel better.
ReplyDeleteI've been there and shingles is a mean little beast, I'm sorry and I hope the episode is over soon.
ReplyDeleteI can't remember if you said you took an anti-viral, but it sometimes helps to calm it down and end it more quickly. Take care.
that sounds so awful! so sorry.
ReplyDeleteps-that picture of peaches brightened my day! i loved that dog.
i am so sorry for your pain. having had shingles, i know and feel for you. i'm glad you're taking the anti viral, so that hopefully this sad story will end soon. (loved the last picture)
ReplyDeleteI can empathize and I'm so sorry for your pain. My pain is similar. Peripheral neuropathy in my feet. I agree--it is like thousands of tiny pins and fires from the inside! Mine has no known case.
ReplyDeleteDoes anything give you relief (other than a pint of Ben & Jerry's)?
I'm so sorry that you have to suffer with this. If you aren't contagious, I'd love to walk over for a visit. I'll even bring a treat.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry you're so miserable. I've never had shingles, but I've heard it is terrible. I hope it heals quickly.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry you are suffering. It sounds awful. Wishing you a speedy recovery.
ReplyDeleteI have had them, so I know how terrible it is. Once you recover - get the vaccine! It is horrible to think you could ever get them again!
ReplyDeleteIs this horror a grandma thing? I have had them six times now!! Get better.
ReplyDeleteLove the picture! You have just about convinced me to get the shingles vaccine. I saw a sign outside my pharmacy tonight advertising the vaccine, but it was too late to get it.
ReplyDelete