Turtle Me This

random list of facts, thoughts, and the like 

A few years ago I learned Chicago has a turtle club. Maybe more than one, but for the purposes of this note, one is all I need. The turtle club members had an open house (of sorts) which is how I had the opportunity to meet many turtles. It was a fun day. I thank my friend for bringing that memory back to my forefront. 

Have I mentioned that my daughter is a culinary student? I am her official guinea pig taster. It has been fun and interesting. 

Fun aside,  I really have to ramp up my m-o-v-e-m-e-n-t regime. Again. And continuing. 

Somewhere I read the question, "what are your biggest pet peeves?" I didn't answer there but will answer here: folks clipping their nails in public. Skeeves me right the frack out. Folks mentioned flossing in public and while that is icky, I don't have nearly as much of a  gross out reaction to that.

My brother (the younger) is moving to Georgia in two weeks. He told me two weeks ago. It is fitting. 

Seventeen. Why is seventeen stuck in my head? 

Marriage. Marriage has been banging around the gray matter of late. Mostly I've been thinking I'll  never (again) get to a point where I'll be in a marrying state of mind. I have lived alone (save for my son and daughter) since the beginning of the new millennium. I don't know IF I can live with another person in that kind of relationship and as I've never lived with a woman . . . 

It is, at the moment, a thought too huge to embrace. Still, I am enthralled that the country is inching toward equality in the marriage arena. 

Speaking of m-o-v-e-m-e-n-t, I want to take a Zumba class with the local park district. But I'm concerned that the age for the regular classes begin at 15. It's weird. They have a program called ACTIVE ADULTS for adults 50 plus. But they don't have a class for the same group, exclusively. Weirder: Zumba JR. Kids (Ages 4--6)  Zumba Kids (Age 7--11)  Zumba (Ages 15 & Up) . . You see that? What about ages 12--14? No Zumba for them. 

Some of the songs on the (new) Michael Jackson album are creepy. 

I considered growing my hair out (with designs on braids and beads or locks) and let my haircut cycle stretch from every two weeks to . . . well, now. Which wound up being about four weeks. The. HAIR. had. TO. GO!! I may revisit the idea, but have to figure out a way to survive the awkward stage where it must be combed but still too short to braid. Plus, I must be realistic; my fingers may be losing the nimbleness needed to braid well. 

10,000 steps (at least) a day. Twice in the last seven days. The goal for the next seven, twice that. 

Feces, Or Something

It has probably been mentioned a time or ten that Danielle works in an animal shelter. For over a year now she's worked exclusively within the clinic portion of the shelter. Usually, her work day stories involve some fantastical surgical thingy she was lucky enough to witness. But every now and again, she has a "dealing with the public" story to share.
A woman brought in her 5 month old ______ (breed escapes me) male to be neutered. The staff noted junk in the pup's rear-end. Danielle drew the short straw to talk to pet parent about examining her pup's anus and surrounding area and removing any feces or any other obstructions she may find. The pet parent trained a "deer in headlights" look at Danielle and queried, "feces"? Yes, Danielle continued to explain about poop not expelling all the way, sometimes getting caught in the hair. She went on to suggest that the woman clean the pup, clear the hair from that area routinely and examine the pup regularly. Explaining how the obstructions were probably making the pup uncomfortable and how a prolonged build-up might prevent the pup from wanting to poop.

Again, with the d. i. t. h. look of the eyes and query on the lips. Now, understand there was a time when Danielle would have (nearly) screamed, "clean the shit out of your dog's ass!" at this woman or any customer / client / pet parent who didn't seem to grasp even the most obvious and routine words and concepts. And she may have this time had it not been for Ellen, a co-worker, who passed on a look of her own that said, "Danielle, be niiiice." And so, Danielle explained to the pet parent a third time about clearing her pup's butt area of feces (and such). And she was nice about it. Until she got home of course, where she let it all hang out.

*No, "The Boys" don't have anything to do with this tale except that Danielle shot these pics when I wasn't around to prove that (her cat) Buttah is always "topping" (my cat) Pete. She promised she rescued Pete shortly after snapping the shots. Pete though, can toss Buttah whenever he wants.