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Oh, hi.
I have been busy taking care of a 10 week old puppy near death.
A puppy who was squirting liquid poop out of his ass so far that he almost squirted a cat in the eye.
A puppy who was severely dehydrated, feverish, anemic and barfing everywhere.
A puppy suffering from a common intestinal parasite called coccidia. Say it three times. It's fun. Except when it costs you $900 over three days of vet visits.
A puppy who had to be taken to an emergency veterinary clinic that tried to charge us $3000-$4000 to {maybe} make him better.
A puppy who we brought home and nursed back to health ourselves.
With the help of a little skinless Kentucky Fried Chicken, syringes full of water, hand feeding, Pepcid AC, an antibiotic and lots of cuddles.
He is on the mend.
And we have realized how much we love him after just 2 weeks in our home.
*Look up coccidia and get educated because it is common in puppies and kittens.
*Buy pet insurance. We should have.
*KFC did not sponsor this post.
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Have you ever watched the show American Pickers?
I am convinced that my husband should be a "Picker" because he just has a talent at finding treasures that every other human being overlooks.
The problem is that he would keep it all rather than sell it.
I will tell you a secret. My big, burly husband is the biggest sentimental, mushy, old-fashioned dork in the world, so I just know that we would have to build a museum to store everything.
He would dust everything.
Keep everything shiny.
Have a gazillion stories to tell about each piece, when the rest of us would just think the stuff looks "neat".
So, when hubby recently cleaned out my Grandpa's {may he be resting in peace with my Daddy} old, rickety driving shed, the finds were almost more than his mushy heart could take.



For me it was the perfect photo opportunity and provided a few moments to get teary-eyed over the family members who used to use the treasures we found.

Apparently I am a sentimental mush pot too.

My Great Grandfather was a Harness Maker. The harness we found all ripped, rusty and almost ruined was almost enough to bring my horse-obsessed husband to do the ugly cry.

But he held it in and gently moved everything away from the elements.
Even though they have been laying around for 40+ years.
*sniff*

The heart on this bridle might have made me so excited, I asked hubby to pose with it.
Just because.

I never met my Great Grandfather but know I would have loved him madly.
But if my hubby had ever met him, I am pretty sure that my Great Grandfather would love him more than me because of the "horse stuff".
Whatever.

I am so mad at myself for not being more interested in our family history when I was younger. When my Grandfather ran a huge dairy farm, I was more interested in swinging on a tire swing than the actual cows and farming process.

Now he is gone. The cows are gone. And all that is left are the places he walked. Full of stuff he used.

Full of stuff left behind.

Thank goodness my hubby found it all.


