Black & White Sunday: My BFF

BWmelasscamping_AUG2005 BWmybestie_AUG2005Pictures taken in August 2005. Lassie’s first camping trip.

I miss him more than I express.

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Today we’re linking up with the Black and White Sunday blog hop hosted by these two lovelies: Nola and Sugar!

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A little update on the human

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How I’ve been feeling.

Hello everyone!

My surgery went well, though a few unexpected things happened, prolonging my recovery time.
Here is how it was suppose to go: 
(note, if reading about medical procedures makes you ill, skip past this (because it will make you feel ill, trust me) and just enjoy the photos at the end of this post. ;))
I went in for a diagnostic laparoscopy. They were going to make about three small incisions in my lower abdomen and go in with a small camera to see what’s causing my periods to be so incredibly painful. My doctor and I suspected it was endometriosis. He would take care of that and then send me on my way. I would get to go home the same day of surgery and recovery time would be about a week, maybe less, and I would just be sore.
Here is how the surgery actually went:
They made three small incisions in my lower abdomen and went in with a camera. It was, in fact, endometriosis. However, it was worse than we had expected. He took care of it, but he also had to scrape out my uterus (I warned you). He also noticed that my appendix did not look well. It was swollen and was very likely going to burst, so he removed it.
I also developed a rash during surgery, so they pumped me full of Benadryl.
I was sent to the recovery room (or so I’m told, I don’t remember a thing, haha) and then back to my room where my Mom was waiting.
Coming to was scary, because the last thing I remembered was feeling relaxed and at ease and in absolutely no pain at all, but now I was waking up to a whole lot of pain. I also felt as though I couldn’t breathe. I was so groggy and out of it that I couldn’t really remember how, and I wasn’t sure if there was anyone in the room to help me. I remember saying, “I can’t breathe.” “It hurts.” and “I want Lassie.”
The only thing I remember hearing is, “They had to remove her appendix.”
Which only confused my drugged mind even further.
I did NOT go in to have my appendix removed, what is going on?!
I also heard my Mom say, “You have to wake up, then I can take you home to see Lassie.”
I took her very literally and thought they were going to send me home the second my eyes opened, so I stopped trying to open them, because there was no way I was going to get up and go home, no way, no how.
Eventually I woke up (or as much as you can wake up when you’re doped up on pain killers and Benadryl) and everything was explained to me (for probably the hundredth time).
The plan was still to send me home that day.
I got up, with the help of a nurse and was walked into the bathroom. The nurse was just going to leave me there to do my thing, but I called my Mom in, because I was drugged and scared. She helped me sit, stand, and walk over to the sink. I remember reaching out for the faucet and then suddenly I felt like I was sinking. I heard my Mom saying my name, but I couldn’t respond, then nothing. The next thing I remember was being on the floor, in my Mom’s arms, and I could hear her trying to figure out what to do. I told her to pull the string by the toilet. She laid me down on the floor and went to pull the string. I vaguely remember my Mom sitting me back up and I don’t really remember my nurse (not the nurse who left me to use the restroom by myself) coming in, he just kind of appeared by my side. He pulled out a small flash light (I was so out of it, I was sure it was an EpiPen at first, and he must of been able to tell that I was freaked out by his flash light, because he said, “It’s just a flash light.”) and shone it in my eyes, then he had me follow it with my eyes. Now I’ve followed things with my eyes before and it’s easy peasy, but this time it felt like it took a bit of effort to focus on it and follow it.
I don’t remember being picked up and I don’t remember how I got back to my bed, but I was in bed and the nurse who left me was putting that obnoxious oxygen tube in my nose and told me my lips were a little blue (apparently I had stopped breathing, though I don’t remember not breathing). My nurse, Jared, told me he was going to test my blood sugar. Both nurses left the room; Jared went to get what he needed to test my blood sugar, and the girl left to go do whatever her job entails.
That oxygen tube became very annoying very quickly. It was too much. I felt like I couldn’t breathe properly because I was getting too much air. I asked my Mom if I could take it out, she said no and again explained why it was there. I cried. Of all the things I could’ve cried about that day, I cried about the obnoxious tube blowing air up my nose.
Jared came back in and I told him I didn’t like it, so he took it out. I like to think that my pathetic state made him feel sorry for me, so he gave me what I wanted. But my Mom later informed me that he only gave me what I wanted because my lips were almost back to their usual color and I was breathing well.
Whatever.
My blood sugar was tested and all looked well, so that wasn’t why I had fainted.
I think it was a number of things all put together.
1: I hadn’t had anything to eat since 11:30 am Monday morning (per doctor’s instructions). It was now Tuesday afternoon. I do remember eating applesauce and crackers, but I can’t remember if this was before or after I fainted. Either way, my stomach was running on empty.
2: I was full of drugs. I may be an adult, but I have a child-sized body.
3: I was very, very, very tired. Completely exhausted. Like falling-asleep-while-being-pricked-in-the-finger-with-a-needle tired.
4: It was too much too soon. I was not ready to get out of bed.
After that incident, it wasn’t really clear if I was going to go home that day.
The original plan was to get me out of there by 2 pm, that definitely did not happen.
They kept a close eye on me and finally allowed me to just sleep.
I ate crackers and ice chips and chugged cups of water, but mostly I slept.
The next time I got out of bed, I had a nurse (Jared and a girl who looked and sounded remarkably like Victoria Justice) on either side of me, and they helped me walk down the halls. It was slow going and I didn’t make it very far on my jelly-legs, but at least I didn’t faint.
They consulted with my doctor and it was decided that I could go home.
I got to ride in a wheelchair out to the car. I think that was the highlight of my day. 
That and coming home.
My original recovery time: approximately 1 week.
New recovery time: approximately 2 weeks.
Even though my doctor told me, several times, that things may not go according to plan and there might be additional problems that may extend my recovery time, it’s still frustrating. I should be slowly getting back into the swing of things right now, but instead I’m just barely able to sit up for more than a minute or two at a time. I should be weaning myself off of my pain killers, not counting down the minutes until I can have another one because I’m in so much pain.
Every time I get frustrated I remind myself how truly grateful I am than my appendix was removed before it could burst. I’m truly grateful that I won’t have to experience that.
I am also so grateful for my wonderful family. Not only are they taking great care of me, but they are taking great care of Lassie and Petal, too. Thank you, guys.
Especially you, Mom. Thank you for helping me with everything.
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A get well gift from Grandma.

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My furry nurses.

I hope everyone is having a lovely weekend!

P.S. What do you guys think of the blog’s new look? I had it all ready to go before my surgery and was planning to get it up on November 1st. I almost didn’t achieve my goal, but I was determined, and stubborn. 😉 So hopefully it looks alright.

A Very Collie Tale

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My love for collies began when I was about nine years old. My grandma and great grandpa told me all these really amazing stories about a collie they once owned, Princess. Princess played jump rope and hide seek. Princess watched over my grandma’s younger sister when she was a baby and Princess was my grandma’s friend and playmate. I remember admiring the dog in a picture my grandma let me keep. I thought she was the prettiest dog and I wanted one just like her. Eventually I became a huge Lassie fan, of course, and watched Lassie, Jeff’s Collie, and Timmy And Lassie almost everyday. When I was twelve I told my Mom I was going to ask for a collie for Christmas. She told me Santa didn’t bring live-stock (ha, ha) and that I should earn and save my money for one instead. She helped me come up with a budget system (10% went to tithing, 20% went into savings, 30% went into my collie fund, and the remaining 40% was mine to spend) and I started saving for a collie right away. For the next year I took just about every babysitting and petsitting job I could get and worked very hard for my dream dog. I even did a lot of research on the collie breed.

When I turned thirteen everything seemed to change suddenly and it seemed like my whole world fell apart. Friends were turning their backs on me for reasons I didn’t know of. Without any warning at all my best friend called me up and told me she hated me. It hurt and I had no idea what I had done. Girls in the neighborhood were suddenly looking at me like I was the biggest loser they had ever seen. They’d look me over with the most judgmental looks and then whisper to their friends and laugh. Worst of all, they did this at church. They did this in the one place that should’ve been safe. At thirteen years old I had no idea what was going on and I blamed myself. I blamed the clothes I wore, I blamed my ugly hair that wasn’t a new color every week, I blamed my height, my weight, my clumsy feet, my lack of athleticism, the things I said, everything about me was wrong. I hated me and I was so lonely. I started daydreaming about having the most loyal friend in the world and that friend was always in the form of a Collie. A Collie that looked just like the famous Lassie. I needed and wanted my dream dog more than ever before and I started working so much harder for him.
Finally one December night all that hard work paid off. I had earned up roughly around $550 and I already owned all of the necessities a dog would need. I had food and water bowls, a collar, toys, brushes, a leash, etc. The only things I needed was a puppy, puppy food, and some spare money for shots. So I hopped online and began my search for the perfect puppy. I had the perfect image of this dog in my mind. I wanted a boy and I wanted him to look exactly like Lassie, the hero dog. And I found that look, many times, but I always found a reason to scroll on by and keep looking. It wasn’t until I found this little puppy that I stopped searching. He may not have looked exactly like Lassie, but he was going to be my Lassie and I knew it the second I saw him.
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He was a fat little fluff ball and I was completely smitten. I emailed the breeder right away to ask about him. I let her know that I was thirteen years old and had earned up the money myself (and that I had my parents’ permission). She emailed me back right away and answered all my questions. I emailed her back with one final question: the cost of the plane fare from Oklahoma to Utah. The puppy himself was going to cost $350. I wasn’t going to spend more than $450, because I would need some spare money for shots and food. She emailed me back and told me the airfare would cost $200. Surprisingly enough, I didn’t panic. I still knew this dog would be mine. I thought I would just have to wait a little longer until I had some more money saved up. I emailed the breeder back to thank her for her time and tell her that I didn’t have quite enough just yet. To my surprise, I wasn’t at all discouraged. A little later that evening I received another email from her, the best email I’ve ever received. She decided to take $100 off the price of the puppy so that I could have him for Christmas. I still, to this day, tear up when I think about it. It was one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me and because of her kindness I had my collie puppy just days later. I had my very own Lassie, which is exactly what I called him.
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Picking him up from the airport. 2004.
I’ll never forget what his breeder told me when I thanked her. She told me “Don’t thank me, he’s your Christmas gift from God.” And that’s exactly what he was. He was a gift from God. One of the best gifts I’ve ever received. Training a puppy was a lot of hard work and was, at times, very frustrating, but I learned so much. I learned patience, I learned to put someone before myself, I learned how to budget money and the importance of it, I learned loyalty and friendship, but the two most important things I learned was faith and exactly what unconditional love meant and how it felt. Lassie didn’t care if people thought I wasn’t cool and he didn’t care what rumors they were spreading about me, to him I’m the most amazing person there is, to him there is no one cooler and no one better than me. He wouldn’t trade me for anyone else and I wouldn’t trade him.
With Lassie around it became so much easier for me to talk to people. I loved (and still love!) any chance I had to talk about my dog and it was— and still is— so easy and comfortable for me. Even more so when he was actually there, I felt so much safer with him around. Even as a tiny little 9 week old puppy he would defend me if he thought I was in danger. He made it so much easier not to care what other people were thinking or saying about me because I could look down at this happy dog who was happy simply because he was standing next to me. This dog who’s completely devoted to me. The girl who wasn’t ‘cool’ enough for the other kids was the coolest person in his eyes.
 Lassie introduced me to a whole other world: the dog lover world. What a crazy fun place to be. I’ve met many great people and so many great dogs! Sure, the people were quite a bit older than me, because how many thirteen year olds had, and cared for, their very own dog? Probably not many. But age didn’t matter, we had that one thing in common: a love for dogs and that was all that was needed to make conversation and friendships. Lassie and I had many friends at Petsmart. We also loved chatting with the sweet owners of Red Bandana and Lassie loved seeing his Bearded Collie buddies.
Since we moved we’ve found two new stores to frequent, Bone Appetite and Urban Dawgz.
I fit in and feel the most comfortable when I’m with my dogs or even just talking about my dogs. I could literally spend hours talking about them to anyone who will listen.
My dogs play a huge part in who I am and without Lassie I don’t know where I would be.
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Thank you, Lassie, for living up to your name and being my hero.
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I love you, buddy!

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Introductions…

So I’m new to this whole blogging concept, but I had a dog blog in mind for awhile now that I thought might be fun, so here I am, finally starting one.


First of all, as you may have guessed from the nifty little image there, I have two collies and a mutt. I adore them and spend every moment with them. Whether I’m cleaning up after them, chasing them down to get that sock from their mouth, going for a ride in the car with them, walking them, or just laying around with them; they’re never far away and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Next I’ll introduce my doggie crew, or pack, to you.



This is Lassie he’s a male, purebred Collie, and he’s five years old. His birthdate is October 9, 2004, and he came to live with me on December 8, 2004. He’s the first dog I’ve ever owned. I was thirteen years old when I earned and saved up all the money needed for him (and his plane ticket to get him from Oklahoma to his new home here in Utah). I babysat all the time to get him, and he was well worth all the work and the waiting! I did so much research on the Collie breed, too, and owning and caring for a puppy. He’s a fantastic dog, so I think I did a pretty good job. ;]
Lassie is my best friend, and my partner in crime. It’s rare to see one of us without the other. People are often amazed by his devotion to me, but that’s just who he is. He’s my baby boy and we do everything together. He knows everything about me and I know everything about him. I don’t know where I’d be without him, his friendship and loyalty has helped me through so much.


Ella, a female Lab mix, was next to join my crew. Ella was a rescue that I adopted on September 30, 2006. She was born July 26, 2006 and bounced around from foster home to foster home until she was adopted by me. I was told she was a Lab and Australian Shepherd mix, but I don’t see a bit of Aussie in her, I think she’s more like a Greyhound with her long neck and incredible speed to go with her love for running. Ella is boxy and sturdy, but so beautiful, and she has a heart of gold. She loves everyone, really, even if you make her nervous or aren’t too fond of her, she’ll still love you. She loves to play in the water, but baths are just okay. She’s excitable and will do her happy dance for you whenever you come home, or just walk into a room. She loves to bring you presents (shoes, toys, socks, paper), but you can only look at it! You can’t actually have it! Ella also loves to talk and will go around telling everyone they’re “ruuuude!” often. Ella and Lassie are the best of friends, though they do get on each other’s nerves at times, but that’s just what siblings do. ;]

Our newest addition to our little crew is Petal! She’s a purebred Collie and just barely six months old. She was born December 6, 2009 and joined the family February 16, 2010. Petal, still a young puppy, is full of so much energy! She keeps me, Lassie, and Ella very busy, but we love her. She’s a silly little thing and has recently discovered that she has a very beautiful voice, so she talks allll the time now. She’s a good girl though, she knows many commands already, and loves to learn, play, and run. Her and Lassie have a blast playing hide and seek with each other, and her and Ella love to run and jump together. Petal loves to go “snorkeling” in their water bowl and will stick her entire head in there to get the desired toy from the bottom of it. One of her favorite things to do, though, is hanging her head out the car window. She absolutely loves doing that and the second she’s in the car she’ll start barking to have her window rolled down for her. She’s such a pretty puppy and everyday she’s getting bigger and bigger and looking less and less like a puppy. I’m curious to see how she’ll change as she grows.

I suppose I should introduce myself, as well. Well… my name is Marquie, I’m nineteen years old. My birthday is May 26, making me a Gemini, if you’re into the Astrological signs.
Clearly I love dogs, very much, haha. I hope to one day certify Lassie and Petal as therapy dogs, so they can visit nursing homes and other places. I love to write, which was another reason for me putting this blog together, to combine my love for my dogs and my love for writing.
I’m one of five children and am the oldest. My favorite color is blue. I love music, Drake Bell being my all time favorite artist. I still play computer games from my childhood, and still love reading little kid books, and watching cartoons from the 90’s.
I often get weird, or even disapproving, looks when I tell people that, no, I’m not going through college, and no I’m not driving just yet, and no, I’m definitely not dating. I have no interest in college, and had no interest in driving until just recently, and dating? No thanks! Maybe later.
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