It’s been two days, and almost half of the original images have been sponsored (and nearly all of those are actually paid up). There are more orders, but they came too late–I have to disappoint some people with e-mails after I finish this update. It makes me feel terrible, so I wish I’d had the time to implement an actual claims system, but bills are bills and they come when they do.
Thank you so much to everyone. I’m absolutely amazed at how many people responded to PlunderZOO, both with purchases and with RTs, blog posts, and other signal boosts.
All of this really makes me appreciate technology more than before. If it wasn’t for the fact that we can open up a dog and put pins and wire into its bones, my puppy would be literally crippled for the rest of his life, walking and acting like an old dog before he even finished growing. It wouldn’t even matter how much money anyone had, or whether or not they would put it toward what he needed. And if it wasn’t for the free information on the Internet, I wouldn’t know how to draw (seriously). And most importantly, if it wasn’t for the way people use the Internet, the way we take cold, hard code and use it to build warm, sharing communities, not nearly as many people would know about my venture or have the means to join it.
Our zoo is going to look so cool when all those animals are captured, folks. (: Thank you for being a part of this.
Our pet landshark when he was a wee little beastie! (Before we had him.)
Broken Pitbull™ is almost Repaired Pitbull™. Hanzo has one more surgery scheduled, and then he will be a fully functioning cyborg canine! However, even with the Vet Loves My Dog Discount™, it has emptied my bank account. (This is especially bad right now, since I just got accepted to a fantastic writing workshop–which is a bit expensive.) My cats will have to work either selling their favors or picking pockets, and when they come home in the wee hours, I’ll collect their day’s take and slap them around a bit if I think they’ve shorted me.
Which is why you should check out The Plunder Zoo.
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Hanzo has a condition called “luxating patella,” or “kneecap fell out of place and is floating around like a kid with an illicit hall pass.”
(Dark as the inside of my dog's leg...)
Usually, this happens to small breeds like Yorkshire terriers or pomeranians, in which case it’s congenital. Sometimes, it happens to larger dogs, especially active jumpy ones like our spazzy little pitbull. We don’t know how it occurred. It could have been trauma that we didn’t witness (or that we underestimated the impact of), or it could have been uneven development in his hind legs that stretched out the ligament. Apparently sometimes dogs with muscular legs get a slightly bowed bone as they develop, and that creates sideways pressure on the patella.
He’s going in for surgery tomorrow morning. If I understand correctly, the vet is going to deepen the groove in the femur (top white blob) where that little bean-shaped thing (patella) is supposed to go, then stuff it back in, and attach the loose ligament to a pin in the tibial ridge (poky bit on the right of the bottom white blob) so it doesn’t come loose again. Captain Jumpytron will have to remain quiet and mostly still for six weeks.
Because if he doesn’t, he’ll have to have surgery again, and then be still for twelve weeks. (As you can see below, that is going to be impossible without a boatload of tranquilizers.)
Poor Hanzo. 
This is just a fracion of my colossal pigsty.
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Me vs. Me
I haven’t gone to bed yet, so I’m pretending my post still counts. It’s more like Pangender Day of Visibility over here, though. Or maybe Ungender. Or Ilikemakeupanddinosaursboth. Whatever!
I haven’t been around lately. I lost my camera somewhere (I think inside my sty house, fortunately,) so I don’t have much to show you. The holidays bumped up my hours at work. I’m busily working on Christmas gifts. And my dog is really sick.
Usually if I put a camera in her face, she gets up and ruins the shot. But apparently just as with humans, she models her best when she hasn't kept down a meal in three weeks.
Skip this paragraph if you don’t want a summary of the problem: she vomits up everything she eats in spite of diet changes and four different medications. Both our regular vet and the second opinion vet had the same ideas about how to proceed with diagnosis, so I trust they’re doing the right thing, but it doesn’t put back the thirteen pounds she’s lost, or stop her from looking humiliated every time she makes a mess on the floor. She clearly doesn’t distinguish between urine and vomit, and of course, it’s not like I can explain to her that I don’t care, I just want her to get better so she can snap at hobos who menace me for spare change, and then we can laugh about it together while we eat cotton candy and ride the ferris wheel. And bark at fireworks.
I'm pretty sure that as with most things that move around out of her reach, she thinks the fireworks are squirrels.
Today, when I walked her to the vet, she was so weak I had to carry her a few times. Two good Samaritans in station wagons pulled over, one right after the other, and asked if we needed a ride, which was really awesome of them. I explained that Shai is sick, but her favorite thing is walks, so I was letting her walk as long as she could and then giving her a lift. She was just as happy to be carried today as she was last June:
The desert pavement was too hot for her feet. And that is how I became Jesus Christ the Shepherd, except with a slobbery, fat mutt instead of a cute little lamb.
We’re going to try a liquid diet in case she has pyloric stenosis. I really hope that’s it, since if this doesn’t work, the next step is an endoscopy, and after that, who knows. : ( This dog actually saved me from getting my ass kicked by some meth dealers (true story, ask me about it next time you see me), so I owe her a lot. I hate seeing her wasting away and miserable like this. I liked it better when she looked like this:
It only took two syringes of heroin to get her to sit still on that rock long enough to take a photo.
Want to hear the stupidest part? This is turning me into a superstitious idiot. The only time she went a whole day without puking was right after I caved and put down plastic everywhere. Irony temporarily cured my dog! And I was going to buy her one of those little coats that protect their fur from rain, because she likes to go on walks even in the winter, but now I’m avoiding it. Because I just know if I go get her fitted and buy a nice, durable jacket that specifically fits her, irony will come back.
On a less depressing note:
Pyu pyu! Pyu pyu pyu!
Once, I earned the right to type that. I had some trouble with my hinder that left me lying on my belly for almost an entire summer.
I was only seventeen, so it could have been socially disastrous, but fortunately I wasn’t the kind of seventeen-year old that had friends or engagements, just locker room embarrassments and the occasional split lip. I already typed fluent HTML, tapped out in Notepad so it took five times as long but leant me a buttload more programming cred. In 1998 I took advantage of that keister malady to master the intricacies of CSS. When I attended trade school for what I already knew–web design and development–I passed with my eyes shut.
In my old age, a mere decade later, my fluency is fading. I’m hoping this new site reacquaints me with what was once my only means of indoor entertainment. There is code here to play with, and functions to adjust, and I can’t depend on anyone to do it for me. And since I barely have the time to maintain my own site at all, I’m not going to be able to do two anymore. Just as it was with my first website, you’ll now be able to find my art, writing, and personal life all in one place, separated only by WP’s convenient tags.
I don’t care what the purists say. I’m so freaking glad I’m not editing this in Notepad. So…
Hello, world!
