So about a month ago my 9 year old dachshund/feist mix started having explosive diarrhea, it was pure liquid. After trying the white rice/chicken/pumpkin diet for a week and reintroducing her food without it getting better we took her to the vet. It wasn't parasites or an infection so our vet gave us some probiotics and pectin with the wc/p diet and then weening back to her regular food nothing was getting better so we went back. Turns out her albumin was low so he threw in another test for Addisons (it came back negative) and suggested an ultrasound. Unfortunately she didn't make it to that ultrasound appointment, that night she was vomiting/ had diarrhea, she wasn't getting up to use the bathroom and was very disoriented. I ended up having to take her to the ER. The vet was saying she has protein losing enteropathy but to find out more an ultrasound was needed. So she had to stay for the day, do the ultrasound, X-ray, and vitals, etc. Which cost us $2,300. After the ultrasound didn't show cancer but there was thickening of her intentestines, she suggested putting her under and doing a biopsy which we couldn't afford. It would have ran us $4-$6k, so we decided to do maintenance at home with meds and a new diet. She was put on dex injection for 4 days then move to Prednisone pills, atopica, paxil, and cerenia for nausea. The new food was hills low fat wet food (which for a month would have ran us $225 a month). We were also given an appointment with an internist for the following Monday.
Unfortunately, she did not do well on this new food with the meds. She was having diarrhea hourly and it was almost completely blood. We took her home last Wednesday and by Sunday she was back at the ER it got so bad (all they did was give her fluids and antibiotics and told us to wait until her internist appt). And on Sunday I started her back on the chicken and rice too curb the diarrhea a little bit which didn't really help. After seeing the internist on Monday she did bloodwork again and suggested a couple of tweaks to the meds (lowered the atopica, and went back to shots of dex for a bit instead of the Prednisone pills). This vet appt cost $500 including the cost of the meds and she said I'm supposed to see heget new meds weekly. It is now Wednesday and she is still having diarrhea multiple times a day that are almost completely blood even on the chicken and rice. She is also losing weight fast, she went from 29.5 when we first went to the vet for this to 23.8 as of Monday.
I love my dog so much, she is the first pet of my own but I realistically cannot afford this treatment. We are already $5k in the hole from this and I don't see an end in sight (besides her albumin going up a little bit from last Wednesday). I'm not sure what to do and I'm very upset I'm forced to make this decision. From looking online and asking the vet, dogs with PLE have a life expectancy of 6-12 months. Do I go into debt over this? What would you do in this situation? I feel like a horrible owner for not being able to afford this. Any advice/experience/help would be greatly appreciated!

Me (32f) and my boyfriend were visiting a city and went to an insanely crowded farmer's market and picked up a sandwich and tacos to eat for lunch. I looked around and all the picnic benches were taken and the vendor booths were too close to the curb to even sit on. We noticed a fenced in dog park next to the market that had benches, picnic tables, and shade umbrellas. Missing our dogs back home and needing a place to sit and eat we went inside and sat down on one of the benches.
We sipped on our drinks and observed the cute dogs before taking our lunches out. There was a golden retriever who kept coming up to everyone and asking for pets, which we happily obliged. As we were dog watching, we saw the golden retriever jump up on another table and take a bag of food a guy had bought at the market and it started chewing on it. The owner of the golden, a woman in her thirties, came and grabbed her dog but didn't apologize to the guy nor did she offer to reimburse the man for his food.
About ten minutes passed and we got out our own food and started eating. In the span of five minutes that same golden retriever came by our bench and sniffed for the food probably ten times. Each time we politely shooed him away and kept eating. Finally, the golden retriever came by again and this time it basically jumped on us and grabbed our food. We yelled at the dog to stop and the owner came over. She yelled at us that we were assholes for coming into a dog park without a dog and tempting the dogs with yummy smelling food. She said this place was reserved for dogs and owners and we weren't supposed to just sit and eat food. I yelled back at the woman that her dog wasn't properly trained and she should've taken the dog out when it got the first man's food. I also mentioned that there were several other dog owners in the park eating food from the market.
My boyfriend and I ended up leaving but were quite irritated at the events that transpired for the rest of the day. We told the story to our other friends and they were split. Some agreed that we had every right to sit and watch the dogs and eat and that dogs who aren't behaved or trained should leave, while others thought we were rude for even going in the park without a dog for the purpose of eating.
So are we the assholes for going into a dog park and being mad when a dog took our food?

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.

I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.

“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”

I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.

“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”

I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.

I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.

***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.

“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”

“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.

For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.

When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.

Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.

“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”

I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.

“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”

I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.

“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”

My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.

“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”

He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”

His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.

***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”

My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”

Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”

And Winslow knew it too.

He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.

“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.

My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.

“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”

“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.

***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.

I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.

I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.

Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.

I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.

The first explosion.

It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.

What the hell?

I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.

Could a pipe have burst or something?

I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.

Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.

I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.

Both dogs huddled around me.

***

Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.

Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?

There were hot springs all over West Bann.

Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.

During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…

That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.

Then a third explosion came.

It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.

The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.

“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”

Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.

“PLEEEEEEASE!”

It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.

HELLLLP!”

I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.

Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.

“Kipper!”

I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”

“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.

Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.

“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”

My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.

After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”

That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.

I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”

As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.

There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”

“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.

I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.

“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”

I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?

“Kipper?”

There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.

Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***

I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”

I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.

I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”

“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.

Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.

“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”

I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.

My heart dropped.

He had no face.

The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.

And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.

The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”

Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”

The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.

“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”

Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.

“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”

He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.

“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”

He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.

“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”

He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.

“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”

I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”

He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.

“Yes, that is the only way up.”

My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”

“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”

I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.

“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”

I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.

I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”

I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.

I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.

“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”

He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.

Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.

But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.

The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.

“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”

I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.

I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.

There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…

It was gold.

And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.

I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.

The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”

He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.

I was sealed inside.

Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.

“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”

I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.

I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”

I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.

He hadn't.

The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.

I had a bigger advantage than I thought.

Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.

So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.

As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.

It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.

“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”

The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.

“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”

No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.

The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.

“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”

I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.

He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.

So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.

“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”

He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.

I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.

“Please. Take it. Take everything.”

Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.

“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”

***

It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.

The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.

They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.

I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.

The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.

I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.

The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.

The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.

There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.

***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.

I know it was real.

I know it was.

And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.

Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.

Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?

I might never know.

But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.

He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.

But he knows what happened.

He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.

“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”

He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.

“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”

So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.

A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.

It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.

When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”

As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.

“What dedication?”

The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.

My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.

You’re an angel.

Hi all. Does anyone here do pet sitting?
We have a need for a pet sitter July 3rd-July 8th. We could be flexible with the end date being the 6/7th if needed too. He’s an adult beagle so while he’s a sweet sleepy dog, he dog bark quite a bit if triggered (noises like doorbells, other dogs barking, or seeing squirrels/bunnies) he does best in a home with a fenced in back yard as he doesn’t need to be walked daily, he cannot be in a home with cats or caged animals like birds etc (mainly for your sanity - he barks at those) it would help us out a lot if you could pick him up from auburn, wa (we would compensate for this too) as he will be there with his usual pet sitter for 2 weeks prior (he’s going on vacation during these days) We’d prefer someone who has either owned a beagle or understand their breed (hunting hound dogs who does everything according to his nose/smells - does bark often - just wants to be close to you - im from NC so he comes from a long line of hunting dogs) If you do, please post and let me know your typical rate during the holidays and if you are available, and we will PM. Ideally, since we just moved to Kirkland, if it’s a good fit we’d love to use your services going forward. He is 4 years old, fully house trained, never has to use a crate as he does not destroy etc, good with kids, he sleeps in our bed and can sit on furniture in our home, eats regular dog food and just needs 1 pill a day in the morning. He’s fully up to date on vaccinations, takes a monthly flea/tick/heartworm med and fully insured with pet insurance.

This is both a post looking for advice and to vent. Using my second account for anonymity. Sorry for my word vomit. I’m just going to write what’s on my mind. TL;DR at the bottom if you want to skip my ranting.
I (28 F) finally got a ‘cozy’ office job in 2022 which I had dreamed of after working in management in a grueling, extremely laborious, customer service job that genuinely screwed my back to the point where I couldn’t walk (which is now mostly better after quitting almost 2 years ago). After working really hard at this new job, I became management pretty fast (8 months) and it’s genuinely the most I have ever been paid in my life (around $51k before taxes). It’s not a ton in the current financial state of the world (I live in the US), but it’s enough to get myself and my partner by with his job as well, and I have some left over every month. This is truly a blessing and not something I take lightly. I feel very privileged to be in this position when my partner and I, in the past, have been in poverty where we had $30 to feed us both for a month.
However, my depression has sky rocketed. This job has afforded me to go to a wonderful (but expensive) therapist, and I feel like I talk about how my job is wrecking me emotionally and mentally majority of the time. My anxiety is through the roof. I am being forced to micromanage our team, and I have to make tough decisions I don’t agree with. Some days, I feel like I am my team’s therapist. I try to establish boundaries but I truly feel like a parent - I am never left alone by the team or upper management as I am always needed to answer questions, report, and investigate cases. The work load is insane and they just keep piling more and more on me and my colleagues. I am salaried but I’m constantly working off the clock to catch up. In multiple required leadership trainings, it’s always been pushed that “you’ll never feel like you have enough time to get everything done” which seems to be what they consider ‘normal’, and the company constantly gives more responsibilities to everyone instead of hiring a new role or realizing we need help/more people. It’s not healthy and everyone is being run ragged. My hours suck so I’m the only manager in the evening so I am constantly being dogpiled with questions, messages, emails, complaint tickets, assignment, meetings, trainings, etc. the list goes on and on and on. We have 40+ people under us which feels impossible to manage among everything else.
I feel stuck. I do not have the capacity at the end of the day to do anything productive like courses, certifications, or to look for a new job. I don’t even have a college degree under my belt. I was about 6 credits away from an Associates back in 2020 but when the pandemic hit, I had to go full time at my last job to help which made me put a pause on my education and I have yet to go back. Lesson learned: don’t sacrifice your education for a job. Good lord. I feel like I can’t do anything but management to make a decent living (which I don’t want to do anymore) since I don’t have a degree or set of skills except for management and customer service for 12+ years. It’s soul crushing. It hurts my heart to have hard conversations with staff, especially those who are trying and who care but who still come up short. I also hate having to be the bearer of bad news, especially when it’s to uphold a company policy that I think is bs. I feel stuck between the executives above me and the team I manage. It’s suffocating. All that I do is never enough despite getting things done while being pulled in hundreds of different directions at once.
I feel so ungrateful. I remember dreaming of an office job when I was doing back breaking work before. I also do have wonderful colleagues and some of the benefits are things I never thought I’d have in any job. Now I’ve gained 30+ pounds and my mental health is at an all time low. There are so many people out there struggling worse and I just feel so entitled and shitty asking for something better and whining about where I am. I also have a lot of financial anxiety since I don’t want to be where I’ve been in the past where we could barely afford food. My wonderful partner has begged me to quit if it’s too much and has offered to support us while I looked for something else, but living on his income, which is significantly less than mine, is terrifying. I also don’t like the idea of putting that pressure on him. He’s done so much for us, and the guilt I would feel for giving up on our stability because I can’t ‘tough it out’ makes me feel so much shame. Although I’m good at it, I also don’t want to do customer service as it’s something I’ve done my entire life, and it has never paid what I need to support us. And let’s be frank, everyone knows it sucks.
Without this job, I couldn’t put food on the table like I do now. I would lose the ability to go to the doctor without worrying about it putting me in the hole. I couldn’t afford to go to therapy or pay for medication. We’ve been looking to buy a house for years and that would become a pipe dream. Although we are child-free, I still have pets to feed and take care of. What would I even do if I did try to find something else? I don’t have a degree, or certificates. I barely have the energy or time to pursue those things. I don’t even have the bandwidth to do the things I love like hobbies or see friends. I don’t even know what I want.
I’m good at art and computer stuff. I love data and have looked at data analysis, but I just don’t have the time. I love plants and animals, but don’t want to work in animal medicine. I have looked into medical billing/coding. I guess I’m mostly looking for something project based and not people/management based. Something that’s independent that offers autonomy over my own time and work quality/production. That’s probably most people though, right?
If you’ve made it this far, I’m sorry for my rambling. I feel better after putting this here, but I feel the crash of anxiety that lies in wait. I should b working but I’m frozen and overwhelmed. What do I do? What options are out there?
TL;DR: I work in management at a corporate job that has destroyed my mental health. I do not have a degree or any certifications. I stopped going to college in 2020 because of the pandemic and was <10 credits away from an Associate’s degree. I am looking for something that is not management or customer service that would allow for independent work, autonomy over my own time and work quality/production. I am very literate with computers and love data. I am a very creative person, and I am good at art (traditional paintings, digital, etc.), and have hobbies that include houseplants and exotic animals. I have over 12+ years in customer service which has a lot of transferable soft skills. I have looked (minimally) into data analysis as well as medical billing/coding. Any advice on careers, certifications, degrees, courses, etc would be greatly appreciated!

I am wondering what everyone thinks of my situation and I would like advice on how to demote a best/close friend to more of a secondary friend or acquaintance I see every few months or so.
For context, I've been friends with her since our senior year of high school. We went to the same college together, and during college we drifted apart due to us being very different people into different things. After college ended, we both moved back to our hometown and became close again. She's generally been a reliable friend and there's nothing really that drastic that is wrong but in the past 2-3 years I've been really finding my identity/growing into the person I want to be, and I'm feeling more unaligned with her. For example, I'm more opinionated and outspoken she tends to remain neutral and a people pleaser in all situations, which have always bothered me. I've always felt a slightly jealous energy from her (for example, whenever I announce good news to a group of friends like getting a new job, she always remains silent). I also get very subtle competitive vibes from her because she copies a lot of things I do. For example, I dyed my hair a very specific color of red and she dyed hers the same color a few days after and when I died it back to my natural color, she did it again. Other examples are before she muted me and used to watch my stories, she would post very similar stories to me after I post them (similar outfits + poses, if I worked on a creative project, she would try to do the same thing and post it as well, I recently made a new friend who lives 5 minutes away from me, and then she did the same after etc.) I don't want to always assume everything is about me, and this might not be intentional, but it still makes me feel weird. It’s to the point where our mutual friends all notice and point it out to me sometimes.
I've been nothing but supportive to her, and I always downplay my achievements as to not make those around me feel bad. Lately I found out she muted me on Instagram because she follows both my account for my pets and my personal account. She watches all my stories for my pet account, and never watches my stories on my regular account. For context, I don't really post anything annoying, controversial, spammy, or brag on my instagram stories. I mostly just post my pets, occasional food, friends, or my hobbies. It's been weighing on me on top of me feeling increasingly like we have very little in common. I considered confronting her about it, but I also feel like it's not my responsibility to always read other people's emotions and ask what's wrong, and it's more the other person's responsibility to me when something is wrong. This is also where the part where she's a non-confrontational people pleaser affects me because it's always up to me to read her when she should tell me if she has a problem.
I've been thinking of distancing myself from her but the problem is that she contacts me a lot (a couple times a week) and she reaches out to hang out at least once every week or every other week even though she lives 1 hour away. I also feel bad because I have a few people I consider best friends but she considers me her sole best friend which is fine but it doesn't sit well with me that she muted my stories/the possibility that she can't stand me. Why would you want to hang out with me so much if you secretly can't stand me or seeing my content?

My chocolate lab used to be so sweet and kind and nice. Now, whenever he is just lying down and I approach him to play, or cuddle or just to pet him he shows me his teeth and growls. He does this around 50% of the times I try to interact with him. It has become so common. Some things to note:

1. He has a very good life. He gets water, high quality food, tons of toys and treats, etc. I give him so much attention and play a lot (Well now a lot less since I can barely interact with him anymore!) It is not like his basic needs or not being met or anything like that

2) I have never in my life showed any aggression towards him, laid a finger on him, etc. He has no reason to be "scared" of me if that is somehow the case

Hi, I’m in Fairfax County and I saw that Loudon has a free program for microchipping pets. However, with our county’s resource page - it is $20 cash.
Are there any available resources that I can go to for free right this week and pay back in donations later down the line? I also have other financial situations (regarding a family members medical bills).. but I really don’t have that at the moment.
It would be no problem but I’ve had a few moments when my fur friend has ran out the door in the middle of one of my family members moving out. I can say it’s still a slow process with moving and they are prone to leaving the door open (mental disability). she would jump over any gates i place and a screen door is not possible. i also cannot close in any rooms because it is unpredictable when the front door will be left open accidentally by two of my family members.
Please don’t worry I always have enough to keep her immunized as recent as it gets with annual full checks ups including stool samples as well as all she needs medically and ultimately her food security comes first as well.
I have carecredit but i’m saving that for true emergencies and just went paid for recent shots and further exams and paid for a prescription for her. everything is financially just hitting me at once right now and it’s not possible for me to wait because i am myself am on SSDI.
I don’t want her to get lost without id. i’ve realizing a collar and her rabies + id tag is not enough in lieu of this situation.
Hope to hear back - much thanks.

Hi yall!! I wanted to remind everyone (or maybe share for the first time if you are newer to Webkinz 🙂) that these two food items that are currently on the wheels can be used to create in-game items! The adventure scout trail mix can be used to create a variety of camp-themed items and the rainbow frosting can be used to create a gift box which awards you any of the previous years chocolate eggs! This is especially cool because it gives you the opportunity to maybe get some older items
I, like many others, have made the mistake of feeding my pets foods that could have been used to create items (I’m looking at you bake sale treats and daisy’s diner foods…) so I wanted to share this message and hopefully prevent some folks from eating or selling these food items without knowing what they can be used for ☺️

Just trying to get an objective opinion on who was rthe AH in this situation?
I've been seeing this girl for a few weeks now, and she was at my apartment last night. We were having a nice time, but when I was preparing dinner for the two of us, and after a glass of wine or two, she noticed a bag of that refrigerated dog food in my fridge. She started teasing me about it and belittled me by sarcastically saying, "You keep dog food in your fridge?" I got really mad because my dog is important to me, and I ended up kicking her out after she doubled down and said it again.
I think I may be the AH because maybe I overreacted by telling her to leave? But also, she should have definitely understood by now, how important my pet is to me. So her belittling how I take care of my pet was a big slap in the face, after she had met my dog and started to form a bond.
Who was the asshole here?

Hello!
I have a pup named Cookie (info below about him) who has had elevated liver enzymes since last May. They started at around 200 and now are at 1600. He is showing no signs or symptoms of anything. During this time there have also been moments that his ALT is slightly elevated and his Lipase enzyme is slightly elevated (vet believes pancreas issues are because his liver is swollen).
He has been on and off Ursodiol since September, but on it now consistently because it seems to be the only thing potentially helping. He is currently on 150mg once a day. He is also on hepato support twice a day, gets omega 3 supplement, a b12 supplement and on a gastrointestinal kibble that I mix in a gently cooked frozen food (was doing prescription wet too and I’m working with multiple places to explore additional food)
We’ve been getting bloodwork every month since September 2023. Through our journey he took a course of antibiotics otics and steroids that did nothing . He also got an ultrasound and all it should was that his liver was enlarged but no masses or major issues. We decided against a biopsy because he’s little and they can be dangerous!
I go in this week (May 17, 2024) and I plan to ask if a bile acid test would be helpful, if we should explore low copper food, and/or if we should explore budesonide (have a friend who’s pet had ibs and it was causing liver and pancreas irritation and this was the only thing that worked).
I welcome any insight or thoughts about other avenues to explore because he is the love of my life and I’d like to stop this before anything bad happens! (I have his whole medicinal file and can provide whatever info is necessary it’s just really long with all the blood work so I only wanted to share what’s necessary)
Cookie Neutered male 20 lbs Mixed breed (suppose to be Yorkie Maltese but his bigger than that so other things mixed in) Turns 7 at the end of June No clinical symptoms Elevated ALP showed up in May 2023 discovered during dental cleaning

My boyfriend and his cat moved in with me last year. I had a 2 bedroom apartment at the time.
Early on, there were some issues with his cat urinating on counters, on clothes, furniture, the stove.. :( Thankfully, over time things got better as I realized he just wasn't cleaning the litter boxes often enough. Things got better from then on until we started adding a few more reptilian pets to the mix. My boyfriend bought two Giant Day Geckos and things were fine the first few days. It's worth mentioning that he had NEVER taken any interest whatsoever in my Veiled Chameleon, my frog, or my Anole. He never bothered my boyfriends' frogs either. One morning, I woke up and made my way to the living room to watch TV and found the lid to the cage had been knocked off and the geckos were not in the cage. I rushed to wake up my bf, and then proceeded to look through security footage from that night.
Just 45 minutes or so before I had gotten up, I watched him jump up onto the stand the aquarium was on and managed to remove the lid, letting the geckos out. For the next 20 minutes, he chased one of them around the living room and literally tortured him, almost to death. Thankfully, we found them both after reviewing the video, but the one was severely injured and succumbed to them a few days later. The other has been happy and healthy since we relocated the entire cage to a place he had no access to - my server room.. (I'm a huge nerd) I have to keep the door open during the summer so that the room doesn't get too hot, so we purchased a 5ft tall baby gate to keep him out. It did nothing. Two days later he discovered that he could jump over it with ease. We purchased a soft 'cone' to put on him while we weren't home and that put an end to that.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, and I get a motion alert in our living room.. I connected to the camera and found him on TOP of my chameleon cage - it's about 5 1/2 feet off the ground. He jumped onto the cage and climbed up the screen in an attempt to get the chameleon and/or into the cage. There's no way that the cat was able to spot the chameleon through all of the foliage in the cage.. Heck, I could barely find him when I tried to find him for feeding time. He managed to jump up there with his 'cone' on, so I started looking into ways to try and keep him off of the cage, but bf didn't like them - I looked into those plastic bird spikes, the double sided tape, and even some plants that might repel him, like citronella.
He calmed down quite a bit, but it's gotten 10x worse after we've moved down the hall into a 3 bedroom unit. (We have a very large collection of houseplants and were running out of space for them FAST) The first few weeks had been fine! He was behaving and wasn't bothering things at all! He just enjoyed sitting in the windowsill all day watching people outside.
Last week, I woke up to find that he had jumped INTO a cage that my boyfriend was keeping some bullfrogs in. The lid had to be removed to do so, and we aren't sure how he did it. None of the animals were harmed, but he managed to trample and destroy several of my bf's favorite begonias - none of them lived. We bought a couple 5lb weights to put on top of the lid to keep him out and that was that. That weekend, I installed 6 cameras throughout our apartment so we could keep an eye on him.
On Monday, I got a motion alert - (with the cone on) he had jumped on top of my paludarium where I keep 3 frogs, an Anole, and the Day Gecko that survived last time.. He couldn't get in since there are locks on the top and a latch on the front of the tank, but he then saw the tank next to it (a terrarium with no animals in it) and jumped in... I immediately left work, drove home and found him lying down inside the tank. He very obviously knew what he was doing was wrong as he immediately jumped out and ran into his usual hiding spot beneath the couch in our living room. I retrieved him, used some very strong words that I'm sure meant nothing to him, and put him into the bathroom with food and water. I then went back to work to finish up the day. My boyfriend was quite livid as we thought we had put an end to the behavior, but it continues.
Last night, I went to bed early and my bf went out for some drinks, but forgot to put his cone on... I thumbed through motion detections from the night and found him again, jump up onto the paludarium, scare the living daylights out of the animals and proceed to take a nap - for nearly 45 minutes!
I've started to express my concerns with my bf, telling him that I will put up with the cat's shenanigans no more. He has done little to make me think that anything will ever be done about it.. I've toyed at the idea of rehoming him with a friend of his, but he refuses. I've spent too much money on the animals I have, and their enclosures to just get rid of them - plus, who in the heck would up and take 6 reptiles/amphibians and their enclosure? I'm actually working on building a larger enclosure for them, and the cat has already taken an interest in the enclosure! I'm at wits end and am afraid that this is where our relationship will end.. He has small pets as well, but there is not enough space in our 3rd bedroom to move them.
Over the course of all of this, I've been doing everything I can think of to keep his attention away from the tanks; giving a treat to break his attention from it, trying to throw toys to get him away and play, I've even tried making some loud noises when he gets near them, but NOTHING has worked! He knows they are there now, and will NOT leave them alone. I'm losing sleep over the thought of losing several thousand dollars' worth of work and time to a freakin' cat. I love my animals, but I can't continue to protect them from him 24/7.
I'm desperately asking for ideas to keep the cat away from, or off of the tank, or to make him afraid of it.
I've thought about coating the edges of the tank(s) in vegetable shortening or silicone grease so he can't get a grip, but I already know my bf is going to yell at me for 'being mean' to his cat. I love my bf, but I can't continue to allow this. Please help!
P.S - crying my eyes out rn, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors.

My (36 female) roommates (28 male) dog (8-10 female) is an active sleeper, with those cute muffled barks and leg twitches. I know this; I have known the dog for about 5 years, I have known my roommate for about 7 years. Today she was sleeping and her legs starting trembling and twitching in a rapid repeatative manner, quicker and more dramatically than usual. I used to have an epileptic dog and have worked as a vet tech assistant so I have seen plenty of dog seizures; that is what this looked like, just more mild. The dog has also been showing strange behavior around dinner time for a few days eating only half her food, which I alerted him to yesterday. So when she started trembling I connected the issues in my head and thought maybe she has eaten something toxic or is having some sort of medical episode. He was working from home, sitting nearish to me with the dog in between us. I said partly to myself just thinking out loud, partly to him, "Is she just dreaming or is she having an issue?" He barely glanced up and said "She is just dreaming." I can't remember what I said but it was something along the lines of "Um, are you sure?" In a concerned but relatively collected and quiet tone and I began to get up to check on her, he lept up in a panic to check on her and shook her awake before I had a chance to go around and look at her. She was just sleeping. He immediately popped off with a comment about how I need to stop scaring him for no reason. I left the room cause his reaction kind of pissed me off and I didn't want to get in a fight over it. Later I brought up that I did not bring up the eating thing for no reason and her weirdness about food has been escalating for a few weeks and now she is eating a weirdly small portion; which I think is important to note cause food issues can be a sign of a real problem. He turned it into a conversation about how I alarmed him. We went back and forth a bit, then he ultimately said that the way I addressed the issue was something along the lines of inconsiderate and reckless, the actual word he used is on the tip of my tongue. I feel that take is a bit extreme given that I was only showing concern for his pet and all this happened in a matter of seconds which at the time I thought might be an emergency. I feel like speaking up when you are perceiving a potential emergency is a normal thing that people do. The way he sees it that is going over the line and disruptive of his work and mental well-being and I just don't get it. Which of us is being unreasonable here?
TLDR: I was concerned about my roommates dog, the dog was fine, the roommate was pissed at me for alarming him for no reason.

When I moved into my home last summer, I noticed a cat walking around people’s yards. I assumed it was someone’s outdoor cat because it looks well fed and was confident, wasn’t scared of me at all. Its fur didn’t look matted, just a big fluffy cat.
I saw the cat for the first time since winter started, and it doesn’t look good. It has a pretty severe limp in one of its back legs. I can’t be sure because I’ve only seen it from afar, but the fur looks matted and it looks skinnier. It used to look so confident and now it looks scared and sad (I’m 99% sure it’s the same cat I saw when I moved in).
I’m putting out food and water for it, along with a cat carrier with a blanket inside. But I’m not sure what to do. I don’t want to call animal control because I’m worried they will put the cat down since it’s injured.
If I capture it, I’d like to bring it to the vet. But I’m worried about the cost. I can afford a $100 check up, but I can’t afford a $800 x-ray. Who knows what other issues the cat may have. This might be a dumb question, but do vets do pro bono help in these situations? If not, will a shelter have a vet who can help the cat?
I’m also kinda worried this might be a neighbors cat because it really seems domesticated. But at the same time, fuck whoever the owners are since the cat clearly needs help. I reached out to the HOA because we had to list our pets when we moved in, so maybe there is a record of this cat. They basically just laughed at me lol so maybe I should put up signs in the neighborhood?
Even if I bring it to the vet and it heals, then what? I just release it back outdoors? That feels wrong. But again, I don’t want it out down at a shelter or by animal control.
I wish I could keep the kitty but I really can’t right now. If this happened to me at any other point in my life, I would keep the cat. But I can’t. I can’t even keep it inside temporarily. Long story, but the short answer is this isn’t an option unfortunately.

So I think we’ve gotten our can stable. He’s had two urinary blockages a month a part from each other. We started him on a strict m hills diet kibble after got separate rfid feeders (the other cat has special food too), and wet food.
He has gabapetin I give him whenever I notice pain, and has been taking fluoxetine for a month now.
Here’s the concern, he’s just not wanting to eat a lot, and just sits all day. He was a very curious and adventurous cat before but now we’re lucky if he comes out to be pet or cuddled. We did see a major improvement after he went to the vet for dehydration/ constipation but only for about 24 hours. I may end up try his laxative tonight maybe he’s more backed up than I thought. But I’m struggling trying to find the best way to manage all this for him.
A little more info about our set up. We have two neutered male cats. Two auto litter boxes and rfid feeders in separate rooms because one of them is food desperate lol. We have a water fountain in the kitchen and a bowl in the guest room and allow him to drink from the sink because if there’s a way to get them to drink I’ll let him do it. Generally they are very chill cats. We’ve had tornadoes and they fully will just sit on the window sill and vibe. This all started because I got a new job and had to travel for training.
Anyway part of this is venting seeing my little orange boy just shut down and part of this is seeking advice on how others have managed their cats with this condition. I’ll be sure to post a picture again. The orange cat is the one suffering from FLUTD. Ironically the Siamese has had stress crystals too but he’s never gotten blocked.