I left my computer at work tonight because I thought Todd would be home. You know, just anticipating a little quality time. When the garage door was closed as I pulled up the driveway, I checked my text, Event Thursday night, GreenBay tonight. Rats. I could have fit in a little quality writing time.
I also could have turned around to go back to get my computer, but I was home, it was after 6:00 pm, pets were hungry. I pulled in and parked.
And anyway, who has time to write when you have a puppy? There is not time to open your laptop. There is not time to spend on manuscript. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner have been consumed on the run for weeks.
But we’re progressing. Todd has trained Fannie to run out the door and return for a treat. “Potty! Treat!” You just have to check to see that there are no dog walkers. If not, this saves five minutes.
Sam needs his T shirt changed to protect his tumor, medication, bedding and bandages changed three times a day, his food, hand fed, and you’re never sure what food that might be. He’s picky.
Mary, sassy cat, needs her Purina Tenders and attention. Poor cat. Poor Fannie. She doesn’t understand why Sam gets the good food–she can smell it 100 yards away. Or why Sam’s food is hand fed and hers is not. Mary wonders the same thing and meows her distaste until I put her food between my fingers and stroke her back while she eats. Fannie barks from her leash hooked to the basement doorknob.
Sam sits from his safe perch on the couch observing it all.
I change a load of wash, Sam’s bedding from the night before, empty the litter box and walk Fannie around the block. All this has to be done in less than 30 minutes at lunch time. I slice some avocado and cucumbers and put them in a plastic container along with some of Sam’s meat and cheese slices for my own lunch. I’ll eat it at work.
Someone told me yesterday that they love my puppy pictures on FB. “So sweet and cuddly!”
“She’s a terror,” I said. “It’s the terrible twos!”
“Really? From your pictures she looks perfect.” Social media…
How do you take pictures of a misbehaving dog when you’re in the midst of it. You can’t. Like life, we show the good things because that’s what we capture. Is that so wrong?
I guess I just want to say, its not perfect. Pictures may be cute, but life is, well, you know, Life. It’s about cleaning up the crap–pee and poop and puke-with the best of them.
Fannie doesn’t understand “go fetch”. Mary mews through her maneuvers to escape out the door. Sam pants. We’re outside in the rain with pets at 2:00am. It is a zoo. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.