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Lorraine Root 
January 28, 1986 - May 11, 2005
Lorraine turned left at an unprotected intersection on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, September 7, 2003. She was on her way to a church picnic in her "new" 2001 Saturn. She was 17, a Senior in high school and enjoying every moment of her life. Lorraine was hit, "t-boned", on her driver's side door, trapped in her car for forty minutes, then airlifted to the hospital. Lorraine was in a coma, having suffered a very severe traumatic brain injury, for the next twenty months. Lorraine got her angel wings on May 11, 2005.
Journal
Wednesday, July 2, 2008 10:04 PM CDT Ah, deception, thy name is dachshund.
Just when I'm returning to the mundane, having plowed a new rut and getting used to wading in it, the girldogs yank me out via the end of their leash.
I had pert'near settled in tonight with a nice homemade salad and a tall glass of decaf iced tea, getting ready to watch a rerun of THE BIG BANG THEORY (one of my favorite's since Larry swears up and down I'm Sheldon's clone) when I misplaced the obese one. The chubby pup was perched on Larry's lap and I inquired as to the whereabouts of Herself.
I munched a bite of salad, scanned a bit of tv, nosed around a bit and didn't think too much more of taking a snout-count til I got up for more tea. Where was that doxie?
I beckoned. No response. No excited clatter of toenails on floortiles. Nothing. Hmmm.
I began to search the castle in earnest and told Larry to FIND THAT DACHSHUND! Alarm bells were sounding in my head.
I opened the bedroom door and simultaneously heard munching/crumpling sounds. I gasped and drew in my breath at the sight of the obese one with her snout stuffed way down deep inside my purse, which lay on its side on the carpet contents strewn about. Everything that could have been eaten was. My emergency granola bars were gone, the wrapper discarded. My purse-sized package of tissues were shredded. My peppermint from Sonic was crunched. But, the worst of all was my weekly med case, opened with pills MISSING! My computer was smeared with pill-goo, as though she had wiped her tongue. Perhaps the reason for chewing the tissues?
I grabbed Herself and made for the laundryroom sink. I hollered for Larry to assist. He held the obese one in place while I located the medicine dropper and the hydrogen peroxide. I dosed her up and instructed Larry to shake her hard over the sink to cause her to upchuck while I looked up the emergency vet's number.
The vet didn't know the impact of my meds on a doxie, so I called the Pet Poison Control, credit card in hand. Sure enough, some of the meds can cause seizures and neuro problems. "Make her throw up, or get her to the pet ER!" We took both girldoxies into the postage stamp and walked around, causing great consternation in the chubby pup, but not much else. I gave the obese one more hydrogen peroxide and shook her some more. Still nothing.
We gathered up some doggy towels, the leashes and got into the car with the obese one's snout poised over a Wal-Mart sack and headed to the pet ER. As we drove away, the pup began to whine and the obese one began to retch. We drove around a bit until we were sure the obese one had finished and came back to the castle. Mission accomplished.
As I began to change into my pajamas, the pup started trying to stuff HER snout in betwixt the couch cushions so SHE could upchuck. I bolted across the room and stuffed HER partially into the trash can just in time.
Both doxies are resting quietly in separate crates for the night.
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http://www.caringbridge.org/ny/alex http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/kinleyklodt
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