Penny’s a Nine. In SO Many Ways

Penny, as you may well know, is an exceptional girl.
Penny in a babushka

For instance, she can put the evil eye on you just for dressing her up silly and taking her picture, then posting it up for everyone to see. I mean, she’ll do it to you, even though I’m the one that did her that indignity. I’m mama, and I’m therefore awesome. I wish I could live up to how she sees me.

Penny has other quirks. I mean, she’s wall eyed. She’s got a small chin (not a large tongue… and actually, there is a difference. It’s much better to have a small chin than a large tongue healthwise. I’m not kidding.) She has two trick knees. She has had a bit of the muscle taken out of her front leg, courtesy of a mast cell growth. She had low thyroid. Now, after her first test, she has a high thyroid level.

Coincidently, her thyroid level is nine. Penny also has nine little pug titties. So anyway, I am thankful she thinks mama can do no wrong because I imagine that a thyroid level of less than one to a hair more than nine in a three week time frame might make her a little crazed. Um. This will make some people laugh: she’s been inordinately clingy. I mean… Penny. She is clingy. But I mean, “Mama, I’m climbing in the shower with you because I miss you” level of cling.

So we’re cutting her dose in half. At least she responds to the stuff. Monster obviously did outwardly, but his levels almost never budged above… jeez, he was really horribly low, and they never got him to the level of almost near normal low. But it was helping, and he was very old and on phenobarbital for his seizures, and we sure as hell weren’t going to trade his liver for a good thyroid score if it was working for him.

It is working for Penny, anyway, too. I bet once it is in a good range it’ll be a lot better. I knew she didn’t seem comfortable. More energy, but constantly starved (not just telling us so) and she’d crash out hard and be really, really clingy.

So the earthquake… Yeah. I did not feel it. Here’s the kicker: On two occasions in the past ten years, I’ve asked Mr. Shoe if he felt a shaking at one time or another. A good shaking. Like, was there an earthquake, Mr. Shoe, did you hear? Each time… nope. No seismic activity.

Yesterday, about ten minutes to two, I take Penny out. I feed the fish. We’re outside, we’re walking and peeing and stuff (I wasn’t peeing.) I come back in. Mr. Shoe calls at about five past and asks if I knew what happened, did I feel that? No. He said that everyone in his meeting thought they were falling asleep and dreaming the table and mugs and pens and blinds on the windows were jumping around (and they all admitted to feeling like they were drifting off… must’ve been a productive meeting with really great ideas being flung around). He said it felt a little like vertigo, being on the sixth floor and all.

And I realized… Ah, shit. That’s it. I didn’t feel it because my feet always expect the ground to be somewhere it isn’t.

So Mr. Shoe’s building was evacuated, because it is… probably needing to be condemned anyway (oooo. I did not say that!) It was cleared a little later because it basically is in the same kind of worn down and old condition it was prior to this event.

A portal to hell opened in our koi pond though, and baby koi keep streaming through.

We have seven large koi. We’ve had one for many years, two for a couple of years, and the other four we got last year. Each year we get baby koi, but maybe one survives, maybe two, maybe none. (Winters are not always kind to our pond. Actually, late spring frosts are not kind, and mid winter thaws are often worse). This year… It is frightening. Every time we go out, there are more baby koi. At least fifteen babies. At least fifteen babies the size of my ring finger.

And they hunger. The adults seriously jump at birds.

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