Did they give you any idea how long until the nerves are all adult like?
The last time I was dealing with new nerves was about 20 years ago, and it seems like it took a couple of months. As least I know from that experience that I have to keep rubbing different textures on it, so it can learn more interesting things than pain.
I was rather bemused that one does actually see stars, although, unlike in the cartoons, there were no external special effects.
I don't have the money, but damn I want this hutch.
I bet you can offer less. It's a big piece, which means they want it gone and they might not get that many takers.
Mr Peabody has no interest in things that aren't meat, cheese, bread or crackers. If there are vegetables in something, he takes them and drops them in some other part of the house, just so I can have the experience of stepping on cold cooked carrots.
Blueberries.
Oh man. Bartleby will do an impression of Bojangles in exchange for blueberries.
The only two things I've found so far that he won't eat are banana...he looks like he wants to but just can't bring himself to...and grapefruit...supreme no-go. Otherwise? NOM.
Blueberries.
Oh man. Bartleby will do an impression of Bojangles in exchange for blueberries.
The funniest thing was the spitting it back out. I mean he just rejects leafy greens flat out -- he'll sniff them and then look at me as if to say, "Pardon me, but I believe you tracked something in on your shoe."
So I wouldn't have been surprised at sniff-and-reject, but sniff-taste-chew-ptui!, repeated 3 times, was comedy gold.
Tucker did sniff-taste-chew-ptui on grapes 3 or 4 times in a row until she actually broke the skin. That thing in cartoons where a light bulb goes on over the head? Yeah.
One cat did this with BACON. She is clearly brain-dead.
Tucker did sniff-taste-chew-ptui on grapes 3 or 4 times in a row until she actually broke the skin.
My eyes flew open at this, amych. Please, no grapes!
sniff-taste-chew-ptui!, repeated 3 times, was comedy gold.
I can see that.
Dammit to fuck and back.
Joe's car STILL isn't fixed. And the labor is pretty much free, so it's hard to be pissed off at awesome friend Bob who is doing the work, but it was supposed to have been done a flipping week ago. And I have to be in tomorrow at 7:00 am, which is damned near impossible considering that Em has to be at school by 8:00 am, Joe to class by 9:00 am and then Em picked up at 3:20 pm. And of course, I just now (within the past 15 minutes) found this out and it's 11:00 pm and it's too damn fucking late to call anyone to help.
I'm pissed and angry and frustrated.
I think I'm heading into work now, to do what I was going to do at 7:00 am and then I'll go back after I get Em and Joe to school.
Bonny, Tucker's been dead since before the grape issue became well-known, weighed nigh on 100 pounds, and never had more than one grape at a sitting -- I'm aware of the issue and thank you for the reminder, but there's no need for alarm in this case.
Oh goodness. I'm sorry for over-reacting and not knowing the history. I had a client have to rush her pup to the vet after folks, unaware of the issue, fed her grapes at a party. I'm a bit knee-jerky. Or, at least, jerky.
I'm still amazed that they haven't isolated what made grapes suddenly become toxic. Though, the Snopes article helped clear up something for me. I thought it had only been about 5 years since the onset of the problem, but Snopes suggests it's been since 1989. How can that be?
Anyway, my knee is safely tucked back where it belongs.
