I was going to attend a conference today. Actually, I was going to meet a friend first, attend the conference and meet up with a colleague afterwards. That was the plan.
What happened is a certain four-footed one got sick this morning. On my outfit. Which meant having to change and tend to the four-footed one. So I had to let my friend know I wouldn’t be able to meet with her. The conference though, was surely still a go. Until that same certain four-footed one was sick again.
A call to the vet and the advisement to bring the four-footed one in meant no conference or meeting anyone after. It turns out the four-footed one is very cuddly when she’s been sick. It also turns out that she had something akin to food poisoning. So medication has been prescribed, the garden has been scoured to make sure nothing not dog friendly was present.
Somehow this day still turned out okay. The dog is going to be okay. We got lots of cuddle time and the garden go a good going over. Which was important because we found moldy peanuts and candies in an area that the four-footed one would love to check out. (That’s probably why she got sick in the first place.)
Sure my plans changed. Sure I missed time with friends and a conference. But all in all, knowing the dog is okay and making other plans to meet up with my friend and colleague for another day, has made it all still a decent day.
I may have mentioned that I was cold, chilled to the bone. I may have let that slip, more than once. I’m not sure how else to explain why Beloved decided to start a fire for me. A fire in my mouth. Because who doesn’t want to have a fire in her mouth when she feels cold?
Oh, yes, this girl. That’s who. She doesn’t want to have to drink a whole cow’s worth of milk just to tame the fire in her mouth. Heaven knows what that fire is going to be like in her tummy or elsewhere as time goes by. I mean some people might like that kind of thing. It might be a sign of love for some. But for this girl…well no not exactly.
Now don’t get me wrong. I love the fact he cooked for me. I love that he made something different from the usual meat and potatoes. I rather enjoyed the rice, chicken and veggies. And I don’t mind me a bit of spice. To be fair I like more spice than he does. But there comes a point, usually the point where your taste-buds are burnt off, that the spice is too much.
The lyrics, “Baby don’t hurt me, any more” comes to mind even know hours after the meal of fire was consumed. What also comes to mind is the lines “you always hurt the ones you love the most”. So maybe that’s where Beloved was going with this. Right now though, my mouth is not a burning ring of fire. Nor is the rest of my body feeling hot.
A new coffee place opened up around here. It into we have a shortage of them as there are some two stores away from each other. Bu this one is slightly different.
What makes it different is that not only do they roast and grind their own beans, but they only use heavy cream. Want a latte? It’s made with heavy cream. Take cream or milk in your coffee? Have a splash of heavy cream. Oh yeah they also don’t serve any food.
It’s probably a good thing they don’t serve food. I mean think of all the calories from using heavy cream! Naturally we had to check this place out. And naturally it’s become Beloved’s idea of a coffee place. Because heavy cream is an all time favorite of Beloved’s.
Thankfully this shop isn’t that close to the house otherwise Beloved would be popping by all the time. And of course I’m c flicked because I love coffee, but I don’t want Beloved to have too much in the way of heavy cream because of his age.
So I guess this will have to be one of those places we go to only for special moments rather than turn him from team tea to team coffee. Although I know this would easily switch him over!
Don’t tell me dogs can’t tell time. The four-footed one is very talented at telling time. Especially if it’s based around meal time. She knows that Beloved and I eat at basically the same time every day. Five minutes or so before that time, she is ready for joining us in meals.
But the four-footed one can also tell time based on when people should be coming home from work etc. Again roughly ten minutes before Beloved should be home she’s pacing between the door and the window. As the time gets smaller to when he should come through the doors, she get some more excited.
The minute he comes home, she greets him and hen is done. Ready to move onto something new, I mean he came home right?
Bed time is a different deal. She kind of decides she’s ready to go to bed and that’s that. It doesn’t matter what time it is. When she’s ready for bed, she doesn’t care if we are or not. If we don’t go to bed when she wants, she pouts, yes pouts.
Heaven forbide if you don’t stick to the time schedule she expects either. All heck will break loose. Because after all, she can tell time.
The four-footed one decided that today was a day of rest, play, eat and exploration. It started with sleeping in. As in we didn’t get up until 530 this morning rather than 230-300 each morning.
After we got up, it was important to go outside and heeding the call of nature before returning into the house to okay with a pink dinosaur, a purple dog and green egg. Great fun was had for at least 45 minutes before the court–footed one decided she needed to be fed. Yep just like that play time was over.
Now technically I may have gotten things a bit mixed up in that after she was done eating, and begging didn’t get her anything from our food, she needed a rest. While she rested we got some work done and when she woke up, she was ready to go exploring.
Exploration, as a long walk in an area we hadn’t visited in a while. Chasing some ducks and rabbits before heading home, happy and pleased with herself. Naturally at a short rest was called for. Followed by food. And play time.
Land after playtime, another adventure was called for. Thankfully after that, we returned home and she rested while we finished getting things done. I really need to live my dog’s life!
We’ve had a flock of birds take up residence in the neighbor’s trees. Every morning we are greeted with some bird song and bird squabble. Every day Beloved moans about the birds leaving their umm droppings in our yard, on the sidewalks and parked vehicles. The way he carries on you’d thinks his vehicle wasn’t tucked safely away.
The four-footed one has a slightly different take on the birds. She enjoys watching them fly about. Loves when they drop the seeds or nuts they have collected from across the path to bring back to their trees. She can watch them flap about for hours, entertained by their antics.
Until they come into our yard. At which point all heck breaks loose and she borrows a page from Beloved’s book. She barks, growls and snaps at the window as she watches them in our yard. She lunges and leaps and on the odd time Beloved has her out and the birds land in the yard, she lunged and leaps. Beloved reckons if she wasn’t on a leash she’d stand a chance of catching one of the slower birds.
In a few weeks, the weather will shift and so will the birds, at which point the four-footed one will stop looking for the birds and watch the cats slink around. And Beloved, well, he will find something new to complain about.
Beloved likes to say that you can eventually outrun or outwork whatever it is that haunts you. He’s applied this theory to his life in a full-steam ahead manner. And it seemed to work. For a while.
The thing is, nothing really holds that kind of pressure from bursting forth. And the more you try to hold it back, the more that intensity builds and suddenly you have to release the pressures. Don’t ask fast enough and it will release itself in the most spectacular way.
For Beloved the release becomes a rather noisy eruption. A bellow sometimes. A door slammed. Maybe a hand slapping against the table. And of course it wasn’t always like that.
Oh no, for the longest time he kept things to himself. But it builds you see, it builds and soon its to our much to hide. So you wake up from dreadful nightmares. You try to hide from a planted bomb or dodge the bullet. And you carry on as if nothing is wrong in your life, hoping the cracks don’t show.
And they always do. Those cracks. They show and deepen in time. Unless you get help. Which Beloved has done. But I know this is a long haul and it won’t be a total fix. And I also know he isn’t facing this alone. Sure I’ve never worried about a bomb in my hotel or bullet from a high-rise. So no I don’t fully understand, but I will do what I can to support him. And if that means checking for bombs, or putting up with the odd loud noise, so be it.