Showing posts with label way back machine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label way back machine. Show all posts

Sunday, June 6, 2010

It's My Birthday, and I'll Snort if I Want To!!





Genevieve turned 5 on Wednesday!

For some perspective, here's one of her earliest pictures:
Not the blondie, that's Agent Awesome.

It's probably time to tell you how I got here to my family.  After adopting many pets from local animal shelters, mom wasn't exaxctly sure how to find a good breeder.   So she kept going to pug events looking for suggestions.  And she finally found one in a place call Eye-oh-wah. 
But Agent Awesome was still pretty small and momma wasn't sure if it was time yet.   Agent Awesome begged and begged for her Genevieve, you know the little dog that rescued Madeline from her fall into the River Seine in Pa-ree.
Can't you see the resemblance?

It was winter, so momma told Agent Awesome that they'd have to wait for springtime because it was too cold for me to travel across the ocean.   Momma was hoping to buy some time, but Agent Awesome, who was just 5 years olf (like me!) said "You can just put a sweater on her Momma."
And so, when I was finally born, and ready to leave the farm, Momma told her I was on my way.  Unfortunately, she sais I got a little lost on my way from Paris and had to be picked up in Eye-oh-wah.  Another day we will tell you Agent Awesome's description of the trip to come get me.

For now, please share in my birthday celebration!
Hmm, that sure smells goooooo!

Nom, nom, nom!
The Foo licked her plate bone dry.
Here she is in her party outfit.

Look at all this birthday booty!

OK, I admit it, I'm still kinda confused about what to do with toys. 
Do you think Angry Chicken looks sad?
Agent Awesome made my very own Birthday Bandana.
Bye Everypuggy!

Love Gen & the Foo

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Tourette’s?......No Thanks……one Rett is enough!!

We are going to take a break tonite from our coverage of the Pugistan team in Vancouver to talk about a very special person: #1. Our human sister, Elaina, who struggles with Rett Syndrome. She will be 13 in a few weeks.  On February 24, msnbc.com and a host of others have collaborated to raise funds to help find treatments and a cure for this rare disorder. We hope that you will visit the International Rett Syndrome Foundation website at www.rettsyndrome.org to learn more about Rett, and if you can, make a donation.
#1 is very special to us. She may not say much, in fact nothing at all, but we’ve got a thing going. Since we don’t have opposable thumbs, it’s pretty hard for us to use our paws too – we kind know how she feels! She lets everyone think that she can’t get a good grip on her foodables, but we know better! She is actually inconspicuously dropping treats for us. Oh yes, you can tell by the sly look on her face……

So, Mom………take it away!

When I explain that my daughter has Rett Syndrome, that  (Tourette's??) is one of the most common things I hear. I’ve had to explain so many times, it’s hard not to make a joke of it. And really. What’s funnier than differentiating between two life changing neurological syndromes? Obviously you don’t know how to have fun!

Until I scoured the internet to try to find information about my daughter’s developmental delays, I’d never heard of Rett Syndrome. But mother’s ALWAYS know, and once I read the description I knew. (it just took our doctors over a year to agree.) My daughter’s failure to learn to walk, her loss of hand and language skills could not be denied. Our doctors tried. Oh, they tried very hard. “Whatever she has, it’s not serious.”


But eventually, her development lagged so far behind it could no longer be ignored. Adding to our pain was the year of trying to figure out what was wrong with our baby. Many, many terrible disorders were ruled out through painful and complicated tests. A decade later, the remembered pain feels fresh. And still, there was no answer. Which meant, it COULD be Rett.

Most days, we try to celebrate all the small gains my daughter makes. The first day she walked into the school building under her own power, backpack and all! [At age 11.] Recognizing friends, classmates and family by flashing a mega-watt smile. Snatching a cookie from someone by using her uncooperative hands. (Watch out! Chocolate significantly improves her fine motor skills.) Grabbing a baby bottle out of the kitchen sink because she’s thirsty. Feeding herself, or drinking from a straw with minimal assist.

We ignore all that she should be: staying up late, dancing with her friends, talking on the phone too much, playing too many video games. Instead of soccer practice, she has physical and speech therapy.

My dream is that no one will hear about Rett Syndrome in the future, not because of ignorance, but because it no longer exists.
While we cherish her, watching her struggle to communicate and manage even the most basic functions is heartbreaking. So today, I am asking that you take a minute to learn more about Rett Syndrome, and if you can make a small (or big) donation so that we can continue the fight make this devastating disorder a thing of the past.

Just ten years ago, we did not know the cause of Rett Syndrome. Although it was strongly suspected to be genetic, the defect was elusive to researchers. In 1999, some thirty years after the syndrome was described by a neurologist in Austria, a lab funded in part by grants made from a parent support group (IRSA) discovered the gene responsible for Rett Syndrome. Most recently, symptoms of Rett Syndrome in a mouse model were reversed by researchers. Yeah...reversed!!

We’ve come a long way in those ten years. Girls can now be diagnosed correctly in months, rather than years. Therapy can begin much sooner to prevent the loss of skills and improve communication strategies. Pediatricians are now at the forefront of suggesting developmental evaluation, rather than discouraging it when parents raise concerns. More doctors, teachers and therapist are aware of the disorder, eliminating the need for parents to explain it again and again. But there is so much more to do!


So I speak for girls who cannot speak for themselves. Please learn more about this disorder. And, if you can, be a part of the cure in what ever way you can.









Sunday, January 3, 2010

How DO you measure a year?




Even though the handy Blogversary counter has been reminding me that the big day was approaching quickly, I'm still taken a bit by suprise. A year......huh.

Now it would be typical to post a retrospective of 2009. so I won't do that.



I'll just say that if a year has 525,600 minutes, about 300,000 were spent sleeping by two lazy little pugs. And good things happened, then some bad one. And some more good ones.

And we made friends. Lots of them, furry and not so furry.

Thanks for joining us on the ride!

Love

Agent99
Gen, the Foo and the rest of the gang

Friday, January 16, 2009

Sucker Punched.......

Ah, the beauty and immediacy of the internet. Need directions? Lost a phone number? Want to look up technical information? Lost the instruction manual? Just a few keystrokes, and you've got what you need.

Newspapers, and even the evening news are old news.

But some news.......well, some news you can wait to hear. And today, over the course of just a couple of hours, I got the sucker punch. From a professional e-journal: A former, deeply respected professor from graduate school passed away eariler in the week. Via facebook.com: a classmate from high school had lost her battle with lung cancer.

When a respected professor passes away, it's sad news. You think back on the time you knew the person, and what you learned or how they influcenced your life. Maybe, as I did, you think about being just a little better at what you do to honor a teacher's life. Although sad, at the age of 65, a person has had a life. Children, maybe even grandchildren. A chance to do something meaningful, leave a legacy. There is never enough time, of course, but more than 60 years you have be thankful for.

When someone your own age (that being somewhere near....39) dies, that's an entirely different kind of thing. Someone with a husband who is now alone. With 3 young children who are motherless. That's someone who wasn't finisihed, not by a long shot. And it's so, so sad.




While I had not spoken with her in years, she was an indelible part of my memories of those oh so painful years. We saw each other every day in homeroom for just a few minutes, and were certainly not BFFs. But we touched base each day to chat/complain/confide. She was popular, smart and beautiful, with such enormous promise. And now she is gone.
And it's the kind of thing that makes you question what you are doing on an everyday basis. And a reminder to me to live more in the moment instead of worrying what lies in the future; to do something to make every day matter.