dog.

[dragonlady7]

Today's my last day of beagle-sitting.
Last night the dog ate dinner and promptly threw it all up. Poor thing, but I wasn't giving her more-- she was ill.
I fed her some biscuits throughout the evening, so she'd have some food in her stomach. But, come time for her nightly poop, of course she was off-schedule, not having had dinner.

So this morning, I fed her, and then took her outside, and of course her bowels were all upset. She's an elderly dog who has self-abused her digestive system extensively (mmmm, eat the pan to get the bread? Good idea!), and as such is a bit fussy, dietarily.
I took her out and she was, y'know, uncomfortable, but productive. (The sound of a constipated beagle grunting is now etched into my overly-soft heart.)

I was trying to get dinner into the crock pot when she decided she had to try again, and pooped on the kitchen floor. Oh come on. So I took her outside in a hurry, in my bare feet and pyjamas and no time for the leash, and she happily trotted off and I had to chase her over the neighbors' lawns, with no shoes and no bra and my pjs and there was a frost last night and people don't go barefoot here in November. Hi to the boys' school across the street! Yes, i'm running around in my PJs! Enjoy your gym class!

So I tied her up in the back yard and she sadly sat there and did nothing. I got shoes and came back out and she seemed fine. I untied her to bring her inside and she eagerly went running down the street, ready for a walk.

I was in pyjamas and flip-flops now, mind you. Hardly any better.

I wrangled her inside, and have been trying to get some work done. Finally got the dishes washed and dinner in the crock pot. Now the dog is nervous, pacing around the house and trembling, and keeps coming to stare at me accusingly. I'm sorry, I'm not taking her for a walk. She's had tons of walks this weekend, she never gets walks from Dave's mom at all, and I've treated her very well. I have not yet managed to have my breakfast. I have to clean the house. And I am within 10k of finally, completely, totally writing all possible scenes for the book. (See, it could end at a wedding. Like a Shakespeare comedy. Or it could go a little beyond and explain what happens when a woman goes with her husband to a foreign country as a part of a peace treaty. I think the latter might be more interesting and the former more, well, sappy.) But anyway. The dog is trying to bully me into taking her for a walk.


And now I've finally realized what's upsetting her:

The crock pot is making little noises as it heats up.

Oh come on. Just cuz you got 30 hours of sleep last night doesn't mean you should be excited about every little thing. You're 13 years old, for God's sake.

Maybe I don't regret just having my little fishies after all. At least they don't look up at me and poop on my kitchen floor, and then wag their tails.

Comments

[mother2012.livejournal.com]

Oh, the second ending, definitely!