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My puppy Rhubarb apparently gets car sick.  Okay, not “apparently.”  She TOTALLY gets car sick.  But really only when she is riding in the car after a trip to the vet that involves shots, pills being forced down her throat (gotta love those poop worms) and a conversation about when she would come back to have an Ovariohysterectomy(She did say initially she would be okay with having her uterus removed, she hadn’t found need for it in the last four months anyway, but I think she is having second thoughts because she has been giving me lots of ‘But, what if you would like mini-Rhubarbs someday? looks lately…)  Oh but soooo many dog treats at the vet, dog treats that you don’t have to hide from the big dog at home who out-weighs you by 100 pounds.  

The car ride home from the vet’s office is approximately 45 minutes.  About 4 minutes in, Rhubarb began a strange whining from her crate in the back.  I asked her if she had to go to the bathroom (because we walked around the vet’s office for 15 minutes after the appointment without coping a single squat) and let her out of her cage and began looking for a place to pull over.  Rhubarb climbed out of her cage and made her way onto the passenger seat and looked at me with pitiful, someone stole my favorite ‘My Little Pony’ eyes and proceeded to throw up in one quick motion her 8, partially digested, dog-treats. 

For the remaining half hour of our drive home, (I had bravely decided to drive the puke home …)  Rhubarb dutifully re-consumed most of her up-chuck.  It wasn’t bad smelling puke, and it hadn’t been that digested so she figured ‘what the hay?! I have an empty stomach…’ So, by the time we got home, there wasn’t much left to clean. A little bit of foam cleanser, we’re as good as new. 

In the future, we will be taking a doggie bag to the vet and saving our treats for later.   Lesson learned.  I wonder what kind of treats she gets for the uterus removal…that has to be better than the plan ol’ getting felt up treats…

Holy Buckets!
*No turning back now * Luckily, I brought a change of pants*

You don’t know me very well at this point, but I can assure you that jumping out of planes (note: by myself!) is completely out of character. 

I am usually the “old-fogy” that follows poor TallBoy around telling him to Slow Down! and Be Careful! and The Box Says You Should Wear Safety Goggles When Using This Power Tool!!! or, Shouldn’t We Be Carrying Bear Repellent Out Here?! I already plan to require our future children to wear helmets at all times…because, really, we should probably all be wearing helmets.

But, there is also a side to me that is stupid stubborn.  TallBoy has learned that if he tells me enough times (in a slightly mocking -it’s okay that you’re scared – I understand you’re a chicken crap and I still like you usually – when you’re not berating me for not using my turn signal properly – manner) that I am not brave enough to do something, I get pissy.  Usually just pissy enough to show him that I can, in fact, do impulsive (crazy) things.  I held out on the skydiving activity for years, but TallBoy, who is a somewhat experienced skydiver, was hell-bent on making it happen.  For four years, he recounted his thrilling, non-terrifying, completely safe, and all around Awesome! skydiving experiences…I initially agreed and we both began counting down the days, though probably for different reasons (I think I’m sick with the bird flew today hon, I can’t go.  Or it could be whirling trout disease – I’ve been spending a lot of time swimming at the fish-hatchery lately).  But, we had put down a non-refundable deposit, so that was that. 

And, I was assured that we would in fact be wearing helmets. And safety goggles. 

*Before the crash landing* Yeah, well, I'd like to see  you try it*

 There is a term at the drop zone used to describe the non-jumping spectators.  They are the “What For They Do That For” or the “WhoaFos.”  Why would you jump out of a perfectly good plan? (I mean, really, why would you.)  But this “WhoaFo” climbed out on the strut of a moving plane and (after some serious self-talk) let go.

The jury is still out on the entire experience and whether or not I will skydive again.  But, I think I now understand What For They Actually Do It For.  TallBoy has already made several more jumps over the last few weeks…and, I don’t think he is crazy for doing so (believe me, this is definitely an ‘a-ha’ realization). 

*Hot Stuff*

*Hot Stuff*

And, I learned something that I hope will stick with me.  There is a difference between being cautious and always expecting the worse case scenario.  I don’t need to be afraid of taking a risk every once and a while, to hope for the best.  Sometimes, I just need to shut-up…and JUMP!