Hi, My Name is Lacey

If you haven't met me, meet me.  My name is Lacey or as my parents often call me sweet Lace dog, Lacey Lou, Lace, or LayLay.  I'm not sure why they seem to think shortening my name is cute.  Then again, I have a really long French name that my originally breeders gave me. I'd hate for them to try to pronounce that.  

I came to live with Mom and David after they got back from the Gator Bowl and have spent most of my time with them learning how to explore new things.  David won't let me call him Dad.  He gets mad at Mommy when she calls him Dad.  I'm not a big fan of the backyard and would rather stay inside.  There is a big chocolate lab two houses over that barks at me through our cyclone fence.  Mom and David can't make out if he is a he or she.  They think he might jump the fence and come after me.  I used to ignore him until he said something one day that made me mad.  At 5am, I decided to wake the neighborhood and put him in his place.  For some reason, Mom didn't think that was too cool.  There is a Beagle on the other side of me.  He's smaller than me so I think I can take him.  I just ignore them both most of the time.  There's another big dog who lives inside the house behind mine.  We rarely see him outside, but his owner doesn't let him bark at me and makes him come inside if he starts. While I'm not a fan of the backyard, recently with the cool weather, David has been taking me on walks.  And I like walks.  But as soon as I get tired, I start lagging behind.  David's legs are much longer than mine, and I have to hurry to keep up.

I've really enjoyed my time with these people.  They are nice, they feed me, and they pet behind my ears.  David lets me get in bed and cuddle with Mom when he gets up to get ready for work.  I really liked these people until Monday....

On Sunday afternoon, I should have known something was up.  Mom cried to David all afternoon.  She doesn't usually do this so I didn't know what was wrong.  David got up to take me for a walk and when we came back, Mom had everything loaded in the car.  I suppose it was so I couldn't groan and whine while she did it.  We got in the car and she cried some more.  She even called people to cry to them.

We got to Starkville {my favorite of all of the houses Mom takes me to} and I barreled up the stairs.  Strangely, we slept downstairs.  We never sleep downstairs.  Mom always puts me in the big queen size bed with her.  We slept in a twin, and I made sure Mom didn't get any sleep because there wasn't room for me to stretch out.

Monday morning we woke up and she took me to the vets office.  I'm not like most dogs.  I like going to the vet.  There are a bunch of people there to pet me!  Mom was filling out paperwork and the nice girl that worked there picked me up and started petting me.  When she stopped, I took my paw and touched her to let her know she didn't have to stop.  Mom walked over, gave me a hug, said I love you, and left.  She wasn't crying, but she looked like she was about to.

Next thing I know, they are taking me to the back and drawing blood.  Then I don't remember anything except waking up with a terrible pain in my belly, drowsy, and sore teeth.  I realized I was missing a tooth and that there was a scar on my tummy.  I felt really woozy and was shaking, but Mom let me ride in her lap when she came to get me.  I barely recognized that it was my Mom.

When we got home, I slept a bunch and felt awful. I would barely move.  Mom kept calling people to see if I was okay and a bunch of people were calling to check on me.  She told me so.  I slept okay that night and woke up feeling a little better in the morning.

But all day I kept getting in trouble because I kept trying to lick that big scar.  Mom won't let me and she keeps threatening to go get my "eCollar."  Wonder what that means?  She acts like she really doesn't want to put it on me, but I think she's serious!  She watches me like a hawk.  She even caught me in the middle of the night trying to lick it.

I'm really hoping I feel better soon.  I'd post a picture of myself right now, but my hair isn't done, and I still feel bad.  And really, would you want a picture of yourself online for the world to see if you had just been "spayed."  I don't know what that means, but that's the word Mom keeps using.  She told me my teeth hurt because the vet cleaned them so my breath would be fresh.

I woke up this morning feeling much better. I ate all of my breakfast as soon as Mom put it in my bowl and drank a bunch of water.  Sometimes I forget that I'm sore and get too excited.  But then I stop because the pain hurts.

I really like it when people text Mom to check on me. I'll make sure she updates the blog to tell you how I'm feeling.  Until then, I'm going to sleep next to Mom on the couch.  She keeps petting my ears!