Tasha the dog spins around and around and. . .

January 26, 2008

I’ve written before about how my dog is uber-old, has horrible arthritis, bone spurs and a brain tumor. She’s been doing this thing for the past few years where she spins endlessly before she can manage to lay down. When she was younger, she would spin two or three times and plop down. My step-son counted fourteen spins the other day.

She was slowly spinning on her rug behind my computer a few days ago, and I took some pictures for posterity. She stops mid-spin sometimes and just stares into space. I think her doggie dementia must kick in while she’s spinning. She looks exactly like a person who has walked into the kitchen but has NO idea why they are there.

Here she is, frozen in mid-spin:


I think she forgets how many times she’s turned around, so she has to start over.

Sometimes I wonder if God looks at me and sees the same pattern. Spinning, spinning, forgetting, spinning . . .


The lion and the lamb . . .

January 21, 2008

The picture painted in Revelation and other books of prophecy are pretty lavish in their descriptions of how fabulous things are.

You know, the child will put his hand on the nest of the adder,

the lion will lay down with the lamb . . .

All that stuff.

Apparently, Bunkis and BBC have been hitting the Scripture bong again, and are enacting their version of the lion and the lamb.


Oh, you crazy google peoples

October 12, 2007

I cannot resist sharing the google searches that landed people on my blog in the past 48 hours.

My favorite is “tangible fish tank.” Tangible? Because, I don’t know, there are fish tanks that are not tangible? Those crazy, imaginary, intangible fish tanks.

My second favorite is “I hate you but I love you too.”

Google searcher, I feel your pain. Everyone has been in love with someone, while at the same time hating their guts. It is, after all, how I feel about Wheat Thins. I hope my Wheat Thins diatribe brought you some comfort and made you feel like you are not alone.

And the third favorite: “Smelly old dog.”

Indeed. Yes. She is smelly. She is old. At this very moment, as I type this, she is panting on me, and her breath is burning my nostrils. It is repulsive.

But I still loooove her.


My Tasha Bunkis Head, who sleeps in the flower bushes. I can’t wait for someone to search “Bunkis Head.”

Side effects may include. . .

September 18, 2007

As I’ve mentioned, my dog has a brain tumor. Her neurologist (yes, her neurologist) mentioned that she would likely continue to have trouble with her “bad” side, and that her mobility would likely decline. Overall, she’s been doing pretty well. The medicine seems to be working out OK.


However, the neurologist did not mention that occasionally my dog would get the most ridiculous “duhhhhhhh” face in the history of doghood. And that sometimes her tongue would not go back in her mouth.

The evening walk

September 15, 2007

It’s great to have a dog that a six year old can walk.


My old, sweet, smelly dog

September 14, 2007

Tasha is my dog. I have had her for six years. I love her.

She is very old, very sweet, and pretty smelly. Especially her mouth.

I don’t know how hold she is, because when I got her, the vet said she was somewhere between the ages of three and six. I think she is probably somewhere between eleven and thirteen now, which I know for a dog is a huge range.

When I took her last year for X-rays, she had bone spurs and/or arthritis in practically every bone and joint in her body. And I am not being hyperbolic. It was painful just looking at the X-rays. Actually, now that I think about it, they weren’t X-rays, they were something fancier. And more EXPENSIVE. Some kind of semi-3-D imaging. As he was explaining the images, the vet said, in this very serious voice, “You have a geriatric dog.”


People, let me tell you, when I first had Tasha, I took her everywhere – Bible study, to the grocery store, to friends’ homes, on long walks, everywhere. She was always well-behaved, mellow and cute. She also preferred to stay home, thank you very much. People who don’t like dogs at all like this dog. They usually say something like, “well. . . she’s not really a very dog-like dog.” It’s true, she’s not. She has the energy level of a potted plant. She has never jumped on anyone, played catch (or played anything for that matter), ran around or even fussed for her dinner. She never so much as farted in an annoying way. So. Imagine that dog being geriatric.

She is currently in this position:

Tasha, supine

And, this is, more or less, how she is 98% of the time. In the mornings she can be breifly “frisky” if you dangle the leash in front of her and make a loud noise with a plastic bag. I use the term “frisky” very loosely. She loves to go for her walk, although with her various ailments (did I mention, she also has a brain tumor?), the most she can comfortably manage is about a half a block.

Even before I knew she was geriatric, and long before we found out about the brain tumor, I had a very clear sense that I wanted another dog. This was almost two years ago.

This is where Tasha’s secret hidden energy comes in. I think somehow she knew that I wanted another dog. She objected. And she used all that energy that she has been saving up by not acting like a real dog for years to put a serious PAW HEX on my ever getting another dog.

I will tell you more about the PAW HEX another time, I promise. Right now, I have an overwhelming urge to get some goat cheese and feed it to Tasha. I must go!