Someone in this household needs to work on her manners. Wait. What? You thought we were going to talk about me? Okay, sure my manners could be brushed up on. Let’s face it, the majority of us can brush up on our manners.
But enough of that, we are talking about th four-footed one. She really needs to work on her manners. She chews with her mouth open, interrupts when someone else is talking with whining. Oh…no I mean yes she does those things, but that’s not what I’m complaining about.
She currently is running under the assumption that she owns the entire sidewalk and woe to anyone else who happens to be on what she considers to be hers. She will bark at you. If she is on a leash when Beloved is walking her she will try and lunge at the other person. (She tried that with me twice and that was it.) Beloved can’t understand why she doesn’t behave he same way with him as she does when she is with me.
She does need to work on her listening skills in general as she’s as apt to ignore a sit command as she is to follow it. I’d like to think it’s a manners thing rather than an owner thing, but of course it will be an owner thing. It always is.
And then there is this need to spray people with water right after she has had a drink. This is new by the way. We never used to spray people with. We used to drink and politely let the water dribble off our chin/beard. But now we spray people. Liberally. With water from our water dish.
You see manners are lacking. If we want to take her out in public we must work on manners. Otherwise she will never get out with us. On the other hand, Beloved seems to enjoy whole sidewalks to himself as well as patios at th coffee shops.
We had a small accident in the house today. Someone, who shall remain nameless, decided to do a lot of laundry. This same person, who sorted the laundry into piles of white, cream, pale colors, dark brown, dark blue, greens, yellows, blacks and greys plus I’m sure more piles also decided to leave the cap loosely on the detergent. This person claimed it was for ease while doing the laundry.
That same person, still remaining nameless, seems to have forgotten about the curious whirlwind that is known as the four-footed one, and how nothing is safe from her. Needless to say each pile of carefully sorted clothing was thoroughly investigated and rolled upon. At some point during a vigorous rolling session the detergent got knocked over.
And being a curious girl, the four-footed one naturally checked out this blue, different smelling liquid. She did not lick it or eat the detergent, she simply rolled in it and spread the stuff all throughout the room. And all through her fur. Once she had thoroughly coated herself she came to find us.
With pride and much joy she took us down to the laundry room to show us her latest art work. The person who left the cap off the detergent had to clean up the mess while the other person struggled to bathe the bundle of curiosity. Suds in th bucket indeed!
There is something magical in those days before the shift from one season to another. Sometimes it is the bubbling sense of relief as you come out of one season and look into the upcoming one with hope and wild intentions. Sometimes it is with a touch of sadness or longing as you peer into the next season, feeling as if you never got to really enjoy the one that is now leaving.
This morning, as the four-footed one and I were out on our ramble, I felt the touch of fall in the air. A coolness and sharpness to the air went along with the full apple trees and suddenly all grown up rabbits. Summer is sliding quickly away now, the heat of the day’s slowly slipping into a cooler time.
I’m not really ready for fall yet, I decided as we walked past someone’s incredible flowerbeds. The flowers standing out as bright, brash colorful splotches against the dulling grass, now more golden than green. It isn’t just the colors that I will miss as summer disappears. I will miss the whispered warmth of the sun trying to kiss my skin while I dance back to the shade. I will miss the incredible birdsong that greets me in the morning.
Yes the fall, at least around here, will have its own burgeoning colors. The trees shall be wrapped in gold, orange or red before the leaves finally fall to the ground below. And then the trees, their bare limbs waving in the cold wind, will act as a reminder that we are heading into the barren and dead time of winter.
The four-footed one though seems to enjoy these moments when we hang between two seasons, neither too hot nor too cold. She finds new smells, new friends to make and each familiar place has acquired something a little different. She bounces into each day with enthusiasm and joy. She fears not letting go of one season for another, instead she lets each moment be a whole new adventure. Today’s adventure for her wasn’t the weather, it was discovering fallen apples in places where she could sample them with ease. And sample them she did!
When I was younger, I always wanted to be woken up by a wiggly puppy. It never happened, mostly on account of my mother’s insistence that pets sleep in pet beds only. As an adult, well let’s just say I make my own rules. 😉
Okay so the truth. I like to believe I make my own rules. Reality is a little different because the four-footed one refuses to follow the rules. She makes up her own rules as she goes. And so this morning while I got my childhood wish of being woken up by a wiggly puppy, it wasn’t exactly what I wanted. You see she didn’t exactly wake me up nicely, instead she jumped on me and proceeded to bark. Loudly. Right in my ear.
Now today was not an easy moving day for me. Lupus has made my joints feel all stuff and stuck in one position which means getting out of bed was a little more challenging than normal. The four-footed one did not care. She wanted me up and out bed, so she decided to help.
She tried to play the blankets off and when that isn’t work she tried to steal my pillow. All the while barking loudly. And when I was finally up, she promptly went and curled up in a patch of sunlight on the floor! I guess the lesson here is if you never have the dog on yo bed to begin with you wont be woken up to watch the dog find a spot on the floor to rest on once you’ve gotten out of your bed!
At some point in our lives we catch a glimpse of our potential, more aged future selves. For some of us it is a way to remind ourselves that we can still make changes to alter our futures. For others of us it is a reality we’d rather not see as soon enough it will be right in our faces.
Today was one of those moments where I was taken aback by these glimpses of what is around the corner. I already struggle with some mobility issues at times. Today’s watched an elderly lady struggle to catch a bus which had stopped far short of where it should have. I already know the pain of forcing swollen, damaged knees to try to work faster to keep an appointment. For the record she caught her bus and as she sat down no one could miss the way the pain marked her face.
After that moment, several other people with various mobility devices (from canes to wheelchairs) came into view. Each person seemed to have some obstacles to manage. And those who were not showing any signs of mobility issues seemed blind to what I was seeing. Perhaps it is because, for me, this isn’t a case of seeing what may happen as much as to which degree will it happen.
It isn’t aging that I fear. It is losing more and more of myself to lupus. Sure we all keep on and adapt and overcome where we can. But somewhere in the limping that currently happens rests the girl who once danced easily. She rests not because she is tired, instead she is resting because she has lost the ability to dance, but not her memories of it. And it scares her to know more loss is happening with no way of knowing when it will stop.
I’ve debated writing this post. I’ve asked if it is better to write the post or to not write the post. Or if I should write the post snd then have the debate publishing or not publishing said post. It’s rattled around in my head for day, nay weeks I dare say. Fleeting here and there, dancing on the edges of my thoughts.
I’ve thought myself independent and fiercely fought to stay that way. I’ve considered myself self-sufficient and capable. And least you get the wrong idea, I am these things. Except when it comes to opening jars. Or carrying things for long distances, or heck traveling long distances. Then again simple things, like doing up buttons, tying shoes or working zippers can seem near impossible at times.
Shen these moments strike I am reminded that my skills are no longer what they once were. That I am not always capable of doing what I want or need. And the frustration that kicks in seems to make things even more of a challenge.
I am reminded that even when there is no rash on my face, no redress or swelling of my joints, there are reminders that lupus has changed my life. Lupus has challenged me to rethink what it means to be independent, self-sufficient and capable. Lupus poses the question is this now the slide down the slope to doing less, relying more on others? Lupus also whispers so what if it is, what will you do? And then answer that rattles in my head is a shaky, terrified one. It is the asking for help. Which seems near impossible for me to form. As if asking for help is more terrifying than leaving my house with my zipper undone and my shoes untied. Or settling for workarounds rather than allowing others to help and be grateful they are there in my life.
For the record, I truly am grateful for them. And I do appreciate it when they help me out with things I struggle with. But it rubs me as a reminder than I am having things taken away or at least altered and it isn’t on my terms.
It’s been one of those days. It started off okay, but quickly became one that was full of too much. Or maybe it isn’t so much that it was too much as it was a case of me not having enough energy for everything. Not that it really matters in the end because the results are the same.
The results can be explained as follows: pain, frustration, exhaustion and a degree of anger. And that’s just within myself. If anyone has to deal with me during one of these days, well I pretty sure their list has my results plus others!
So how does a person with lupus end up with one of these days? Sometimes this person may overestimate what s/he is capable of doing for that period of time. Sometimes what s/he thought would go a certain way ends up going a different way. And sometimes, well sometimes lupus just steps in and has a say in things.
So the person, this person, cannot always change that. But this person can try and make the best of things where possible. One these days, this person tends to retreat to be on her own and uses the time to read and rest. Or at least not have to infect other people with the miserable mood that settles upon her.
And some days, sometimes, despite it all, this person ends up with tears down her cheeks. But tears can be an emotional release which helps too.