Between Emmett and Lucas, someone’s going to the vet nearly every week for a checkup or blood test. I dutifully schedule tech appointments at the same time to get Newt’s nails trimmed. And every time I get there, I have to tell them to cancel it because I, once again, couldn’t get her in her carrier. Then, my brilliant friend suggested wrapping her in a towel like a burrito and shoving her in, and today, gosh darnit, Newt got her nails trimmed! Winning!! Current score? Me: 1, Newt: 900 or so…
One of my dearest friends in the entire world got married over the weekend. I was blessed and honored to be a part of the ceremony. It meant leaving the herd for a couple nights–something inherently stressful but more so with current events. My parents came down to Bloomington, and they LOVE my parents. My parents spoil them to pieces. I knew it would be fine and, if anything, we might arrive home to find them a bit chubbier.
Saturday morning my phone rings, and my mom is breathless.
“Lucas is really scaring me,” she says. “He’s in the yard, and he won’t get up. I keep calling and calling, and he’s not even lifting his head.”
I sigh. “Go in the house, and get the package of cocktail sausages out of the fridge. Take it to the door, and shake the bag.”
I hear her fling open the door, run up the stairs, and rummage in the fridge. A few seconds later, through the phone I hear her fly back down the stairs, run outside, and…
“You little shit! You scared me half to death,” she yells. She picks up the phone. “He came inside for the sausages,” she growls. “I was having a heart attack.”
Sweet, obstinate Lucas will not come when he’s called in the house if it’s a nice sunny day, which it was, and he has found himself a grassy spot for a nap, which he had.
We are not having good luck with appliances. In the past little bit our garbage disposal broke (nbd, we compost most everything anyway), followed by the microwave (slightly bigger deal but still okay), followed by the washing machine. Not. Okay. We ordered a new one to be delivered today–yay!–and when it arrived it was all dented up–boo–so a new one has to come tomorrow. Anyway, when the delivery men first showed up, we put the dogs behind the gate in the basement and Newt closed in the bedroom. Dear, sweet, elderly, arthritic Emmett Mack-trucked his way through the gate, releasing the hounds all over the Lowes deliver men. We may or may not get a new washing machine tomorrow. (Incidentally, the pic above is the one I took after we discovered Emmett had “released” the recycling from its prison and spread it all over the house with the tastiest bits–milk cartons–licked clean from his dog bed! He’s TWELVE!)
That is life around here these days! I have this little notebook where I jot down post ideas. It’s getting full. I think I’m about done taking time off. Things are… weird… but they need to be somewhat normal. Although, funny thing about normal, we have two massive changes coming that I’ll share with you guys very soon. Anyway, plan is to get back to a posting schedule starting on Monday. In the meantime, have a wonderful weekend! We’ll be (hopefully) doing all the sheets, towels, clothes, dog beds, and blankets that have piled up over weeks of no washer, plus a micro-hike and trip to Sonic for Lukey!