Seasonal Aggravation

It’s the time of the year when I take the dogs in for vaccinations. I know that you all don’t vaccinate yearly, but I haven’t been able to get titers done and if I want our pet passports to remain valid for travel outside of France I need Rabies vaccines annually here. As to the other vaccines, I do need those if I kennel the dogs, so I do get them done.

I also wanted to get Peaches’ dew claws clipped so she doesn’t injure me when she paws at me (they’re like needles) and I had ordered the kit to test for MDR1 several months back, but hadn’t been able to get to the vet’s to get it done.

So, in the pouring rain, we loaded the dogs into the car and set off. First, we needed to go to the post office to send the documents for finally resolving my mother’s estate back to our attorney in L.A. After making an appointment with the consulate in Toulouse, we called the estate department of the investment company and discovered that our account manager could just sign off on the documents and we didn’t HAVE to get them all notarized! That saved us a more than 200 mile round trip and about $300 in fees we would have had to pay to have all the signatures notarized. But, wouldn’t you think the account manager would have known this?

Anyway, the post office here is also a bank and we had one of the nuns in front of us trying to do something complicated. It took forever. By the time I got back to the car, Peaches was whining and desperate. She does not like being in the car, and I guess waiting for us had made her anxious. She wanted to get out and pee. That would have been fine, but afterwards she was soaking wet and wouldn’t get into the back seat. That meant that JM couldn’t get into the car. I tried getting her out and opening the back door, but Shmoo then wanted to jump out. It took over 15 minutes to get everyone situated again.

By this time, we were having a bad feeling about the whole thing, but once you start you might as well go on.

Miraculously, we got to the vet’s with no puking from the peanut gallery. But, the vet had an emergency C-section that had come in right before we got there. So, we sat and waited, and waited and waited. Almost an hour later we got to see him.

Luckily, by that time, ours had mostly calmed down. Although they were a bit weirded out by all the puppy cries coming from the back room. Then a hunting dog came in with an injured leg. He looked at Peaches. That was bad. I thought Shmoo was going to leap across the room and attack him. He did NOT want that dog looking at his Peach!

At last, we got into the exam room. Although he was terrified, Shmoo did jump up on the exam table under his own power. He didn’t like it, but he did it. Unusually, he was trembling in terror. He never does that, and it’s odd.

Peaches was not going to get up there though, so we had to lift her up. She was very, very unhappy. She actually backed off of the table and was choking to death at one point! We had to struggle to get hold of her and keep her from falling on the floor.

When the vet shaved her leg to take blood for the DNA test, she bled all over the place and he had to bandage her leg. She was not a good patient.

Anyway, the cost for shots for both dogs, worming pills for next time I need to worm them (probably a month or so from now), the blood draw and exam, came to 91€, which I don’t think is bad at all. It would have cost at least twice that in L.A.

We got home with still no puking, so that was good. It was way past lunch time, I had a migraine and I was hungry, but the dogs really, really wanted to go out. So, I put JM’s lunch on the table and took them for their walk. Peaches waited till we were outside and THEN she threw up.

I want a nap.


Okay, so I didn't have a picture of the actual cake

Cheating here; not Amish Friendship Bread!


Every year, most of France has events for the “Telethon,” which is similar, I think to the Labor Day telethon in the States. I assume there are televised events, but mostly I’m familiar with the local events that villages like ours put on. One of the things we do here is a bake sale on the Saturday market and for the last couple of years I’ve contributed a little something.

So, this year I gave them an Amish friendship bread. I dropped it off at the town hall yesterday, but I didn’t get over there until close to noon. A couple of the ladies who run the charity table started chasing me in the street. They wanted to know if that cake was mine. Slightly worried about why they wanted to know I admitted my culpability in the matter. They all wanted the recipe. Apparently, because it was a big cake, they decided to cut it into pieces to sell individually, and they had to taste it first. I don’t think any of it made it to the sale table! They all bought slices for themselves and one lady bought half of the cake to take home for her family.

I explained the concept and promised I’d give them some starter and translate the recipe.

Anyway, I was seriously flattered. There were other cakes on the table that hadn’t sold even one piece and this is France, after all. Food IS important here, and an American cake impressed everyone.

Now I guess I have to make some more starter, because I actually got tired of keeping mine alive, and how much cake can two people eat?


Ciao for now,