I was given the clearance to start the walking process on Monday - holy hell is it ever a process. I guess after not putting any pressure onto an appendage for over 10 weeks that it would take a little while to get used to the walking thing again. I do okay with the crutches and a little weight - not enough to really hurt, but enough to know that I'm putting some pressure down on something that is completely different than it was a couple of months ago. I keep reminding myself that it's not going to happen overnight and continue being patient. I am so anxious to ditch the crutches, because there are so many things I want to do. I want to dig out my sewing machine, I want to photograph my flowers and the beautiful tortoises that hang out in the front yard every day, and I want to walk my wee little furry friend Murphy. It's been so long since we walked together - longer than I can remember. I want to stop looking like a dummy at the thrift shops with hangers hanging on my crutches. I want to get back to making my bed every day and helping the love of my life with house chores and dinner. I want to drive again and I want to stop my daily fight with the restroom door at work.
Slow and steady, push myself, but know my limitations, right?
I think I'll sing some Chubby Checker this week when I practice!
Anyone who knows anything about dog breeds know that the Terrier group can be one of the most stubborn, hard-headed, head-strong, strong-willed group of dogs on the planet. Did I mention stubborn? We have a Cairn Terrier. When we tell people what breed he is they will usually give us a puzzled look. Then we'll ask them if they remember Toto from The Wizard of Oz. The light bulb clicks on, but dims somewhat. Because we are mind readers, we'll say something along the lines of "yeah, betcha thought Toto was a mutt, eh?" The light bulbs is brighter now. Toto was a pure bred Cairn Terrier named Terry. Terry's first owners were not so fond of her (yes, a girl) terrier-ness, so they booted her to the curb. You can read about Terry here on the wiki page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terry_(dog). Her biography is also a good read and you can pick it up here from Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/5twlmxk
Murphy MacDonald, Lord of the Isle came into our home and our hearts in July 2008. Our beloved Chocolate Lab, Delta Dawn, had died on May 5, and we were very lonely without a four-legged little creature in our lives. Delta was the most obedient, well-trained dog I have ever known. She was the love of my life's hunting buddy and my constant companion when she finally retired from duck retrieving. Murphy was quite possibly the cutest puppy I have ever come across in my life, and he had the sharpest teeth that rivaled the many sea creatures we've caught fishing over the years. He was a terror on four legs, but when he would lay his head on our chest or leg and look up at us with "those" eyes, we melted and forgot about the teeth marks on our legs, the hutch, and the Pella window sills. His cuteness has only increased over the three years of his life. Murphy is also very smart and knows a ton of commands: sit, stay, down, sit pretty, give me some paw, high five, speak, roll over, and the best is when we ask him if he'd rather be a Gator or dead; he'll tip onto his side and stop breathing, playing dead. He can stand and jump, and will give us a "bump" with his nose, and he'll walk at heel on the leash. He does not understand the command "come" though. Oh, he'll do it when there is food involved, but if I want him to move from one spot in the house to where I am at, he'll stand there with the most defiant face and not budge an inch. Stubborn! Our lab was never allowed on the furniture. Murphy, because of the infinite cuteness factor, is pretty much allowed to do whatever pleases him. He'll sit in the dining room chairs, on the ottoman, on the recliner, on my pillow on the bed, on the back of the chairs. The only place we have kept him off, for now, is our new couch. Murphy is spoiled, and we are okay with that. We know he's a yappy little dog, and we know he should be forced to mind us better, and we know that people don't like him jumping in their laps, but, honestly, we don't care. We look into those bright eyes and melt every time.
