Deck the Halls

As far as we cats are concerned, there are few times more thrilling than when the adults pull out our favorite toy for us. You know, that tall prickly one they cover with all the beads and ornaments for us to bat about and try to remove? Well, yesterday was that day at our house.

Between the beads and the bows, the ornaments and the lights, there was a lot for me to play with. The only challenge was where to start.

But I did my part and made sure I played with all of them. It's a tough job having that much fun, and by the end of the day, I was pooped!

In fact, I think Rudy was zonked just watching me.

Not to worry, though. There's plenty more fun to be had, and I fully intend to go back for more...just as soon as I finish my nap.

In the Words of Gloria Gaynor

A few weeks ago we learned our beloved Ru Dog had a cancerous tumor on her elbow. She had surgery last Monday to remove it and is recovering well.

Overall, she's been a very good patient, but we have learned our lesson not to underestimate her tenacity, or her need to lick EVERYTHING. The night we brought her home, we made the mistake of assuming it was safe to leave her alone for only a short time. Upon return, we were quite surprised to find she'd been very busy while we were out.

Time elapsed without constant supervision: 1 hour.

Damage: Bandage removed, completely in one piece.

Time it took to purchase and outfit her with this ridiculous cone contraption: 15 minutes.

Sorry, dog, but it's for your own good. The irony of this particular accessory is that they call it the "Elizabethan Collar," clearly because it resembles the high collars the British monarch sported as her regal attire. But tell me, does this poor dog look at all regal to you? I think not.

So Rudy has to wear the cone when she's alone for a few more days just to make sure she doesn't lick her wounds. She...is...counting...the...hours. Until then, she is working up a full scale Pity Party. Big sad eyes, droopy head. It's certainly doing the trick to make me feel guilty.

The test results came back and revealed that the type of cancer Rudy has is the kind likely to spread, but so far, there don't appear to be any signs of metastasis. So our next step is a visit to the doggy oncologist to learn our options. We've heard that chemo for animals is much less debilitating and painful than it is for humans, so we're hopeful we can take some steps to keep the cancer from spreading without decreasing her quality of life (read: ability to romp in the woods, fetch and swim). If anyone has any experience with doggy cancer, please let us know.

And in the meantime, thanks to everyone for their love and prayers. We are keeping our outlook positive and are confident that Rudy's tenacity will make her a survivor!