Wondering if Brownie will suffer from a case of laryngitis today.

Like humans, dogs can develop laryngitis, an inflammation and swelling of the larynx secondary to infection, irritation by dust or smoke, inhaled foreign bodies (grass, bones), or trauma due to excessive barking or pulling against a collar.

When he first joined the family we didn't hear a peep out of him for the first month or two - which made us truly wonder if he actually knew how to bark!  But even after he eventually showed us that he did have that ability, happily he very rarely used it - despite the chihuahua in him. 

The basenji is commonly referred to as the dog breed that doesn't bark.

Could Brownie be part basenji? <g> 

Apparently that's a common chihuahua mix.  

Here are some photos I discovered during my search, and while none look "just like" Brownie they do share certain similarities.

Anyway, getting back to yesterday.  

When I heard Brownie barking and barking and barking out back I eventually went out to see what the problem was.  He was parked under the grapefruit tree, looking up, so I'm guessing he'd chased something (an elusive roof rat?) up the trunk.  

He did stop barking since I had responded to his frantic call, but though I looked and looked I sure couldn't see anything, and so finally came back inside.  

Naturally his barking started up again, so after a while I again schlepped out there and reran the scenario, only to result in the same non-productive routine.  With no sighting on my part, again I returned inside.  

More barking ensued, so next I sent Tom out "to see what he could see" - 

(incredibly he'd been oblivious to the barking!) 

but Tom also found nothing. 

 

My theory?

No doubt once up the branches the critter had jumped to another tree and then easily escaped, with Brownie none-the-wiser.

https://youtu.be/9Y1l2rpbt18

In a different reality I would currently be in Maryland now with family, able to visit Emily & Ed and their delightful yours/mine/ours crew.  I have her permission to share this post she wrote for Nurses Day yesterday. Long - but definitely well-worth the read!!! 

Emily Phillips McGill - 

It’s National Nurses Day and, yes, I am a nurse. I love nursing. I love taking care of people, I love the challenge, I love learning, I love seeing new and interesting things every single shift. (Interestingly, all those things could be said of why I love being a mom, too. And Mother’s Day is just a few short days away). Aside from being a mother and wife, being an RN is one of the things that brings me the most pride. However, I am not currently working. Here’s a (pretty long-winded) look at why that is, how I’ve struggled with figuring it all out, who I’m honoring today, and a reminder that we are all doing the best we can.

Nearly 8 months ago, we welcomed our sixth baby into the family. We thought we were done with five, but God had other plans. Because of that bonus baby, I decided to stay at home full time. Had she not come into our lives, I would probably still be working in the ER full time. I would also likely be holding onto my sanity by a thin and rapidly-fraying thread.

I don’t know how I would juggle this new reality of helping my children navigate a scary time for all of us (I’m talking about homeschooling, people), as well as aiding them in managing the complex emotional needs brought about by being in the midst of a pandemic, uncertain about so many things and unable to leave home, if I was working. I would be able to do it—I’m capable and smart and come from a long line of “get shit done” genetics. But I also know my limits.

I would quickly deplete my currently suboptimal stockpile of patience while simultaneously running short on my no-I-don’t-regret-the-decision-to-procreate reserves and would devolve, no doubt, into madness. I’d likely flounder through and be an exhausted, short-tempered and sub-par “teacher.” Even more so than I already am. And, ultimately, I wouldn’t be the mom I need to be right now. I suppose my husband and older kids really should be thanking our youngest, Greta...not only is she the most joyful baby EVER, but it seems that adding a baby we didn’t expect has forced me to be the right kind of mom for my family in this pandemic.

Despite being present, awake and available for all my kids, the nurse inside me is struggling. I have spent the last nearly two months feeling more conflicted than I have in a long time. I constantly do battle in my brain between “I should go back to work and help people” and “but then I’ll be bringing home all that nastiness to my kids...what if they get sick? what if I get sick? what if Eddie gets sick? would I even be able to hug and kiss them all? the older ones understand what’s happening...would it scare them if I was working? would that even be responsible? they already have anxiety over it” and “I suck cause I am not at work and using my skills as a critical care nurse to fight this pandemic” and “I’ll be tired and crabby if I go back to work and I’ll snap at the kids when they need help with school...which is now all day, every day” and “but, damn, I sure would like a break from being home and I’d love to just be with adults for twelve hours. I miss all my work buddies so much” and “how could I work when I have to handle all these kids and their Google Meets and Zoom calls and schoolwork and emotional well-being and making dinners...my God, why do they need to eat so much?!” and “Ed’s business is slower because of this economy. I should be earning money” and “but if I get sick at work, or even am just tired from work, then Ed has to handle everyone solo and he, admittedly, can’t do common core math (but, then again, who can?)” and “other nurses are figuring it out so I should be able to, what’s wrong with me?” and “yea, but other nurses are struggling, too...and dying.”

I could go on and on and on...

At the end of the day, and after the tears of worry and guilt and just flat-out STRESS have dried on my cheeks, or my husband’s shoulder, I know that I am doing the best I can. Sometimes I need to be reminded of that. That doing the best you can is enough, especially now. The kids are out of whack and confused and scared and sick of this situation. And the adults are, too. Doing the best any of us can is just fine.

My sister, Rachel, who ranks high on my list of people-to-whom-I-vent-when-I-need-to-meltdown, recently sent me a cartoon of a little boy standing in the rain saying “I’m sad.” Another character says “try adding ‘for now.’” The boy says “I’m sad...for now.” A bit better and less perpetual, right?! Things are hard...for now. We all need to stay at home...for now. It’s tough to choose between being a mom and being a nurse...for now. I only have to teach square roots, rational versus irrational numbers, laws of exponents, geography of Asia, etymology, original violin piece composition, laws of gravity, the solar system, poetry writing, history of the Constitution, coding, engineering, Romeo and Juliet, religions of Africa, and order of operations...for now.

I will forever feel I am not doing something I could be, either as a nurse or as a mom. While I am here at home, I feel less-than as a nurse and I miss the hospital. I miss the camaraderie and the challenge and the work. But if I were there I would feel the same things, just in reverse.

I am a mom, first and foremost. And, at present, I am definitely way more mom than nurse. But I will always be both. Currently, the extent of my nursing involves kissing boo-boos, curing belly aches, wiping tears (and butts), fielding occasional medical questions from family or friends via text and, after one particularly hands-on day of yard work, suturing my husband’s face so he didn’t have to go to an ER or Urgent Care and risk unnecessary exposure or crowd either place with a non-life-threatening injury. Someday soon I hope to go back to being a nurse in the traditional sense. COVID-19 isn’t going away, so I know I will still have the opportunity to help and to serve. But, for today, I am needed to serve at home; and I am blessed and fortunate to be able to do so. Many frontline healthcare workers don’t have the luxury of choosing whether or not to work. I do and I am beyond grateful.

Some day my kids will be grown and I will primarily take care of patients, becoming more nurse and less mom. I’m no fool—I know my kids aren’t ever fully leaving the nest. I’m a 37 year old woman with six kids who still lives three miles from her childhood home and talks to her parents daily. I get it. They’ll always need me. But, my children are only little and needing me the way they currently do...for now.

In the midst of all the inner conflict as to my purpose during this time, in addition to all the what-ifs and turmoil and fears during an unprecedented global situation, I am snapped back into the moment with every “Mooooom, I need help!” By no means the first such cry for assistance, nor will it be the last. And each one reminds me that, just for today, I am exactly where I am meant to be.

I have been fortunate to have some wonderful community members donate masks, gloves and supplies to my door and I have been able to drop them off at my old stomping ground, HCGH ER. The ER where dozens of amazing nurses work round the clock to keep people safe and healthy. Nurses I admire, nurses I trust, nurses who have become friends, nurses with whom I have laughed and cried, nurses who are real and tell it like it is, nurses who show up with coffee and a smile, nurses who I am proud to have worked alongside and who I look forward to working with again...nurses who I miss.

This post is for those nurses...and all nurses. Today is National Nurses Day and, for anyone who stuck it out to read this far, make sure you thank the phenomenal men and women we celebrate today. Share this message. Send them love and prayers...and food and coffee! They are heroes. They work tirelessly. They do what I cannot do right now. They leave their homes and loved ones and they show up. Every day. They may be the ones saving your life someday.

And you will be in good hands.

And looks like Maggie may be following in her Mom's footsteps...