One Wild Ride

My life has always seemed to be one wild ride after another, but this week takes the cake. From birth to death and from marriage to divorce I've seen it all these past 7 days. There were some moments when I didn't think life could get any better, then others when I thought life couldn't get any worse. On top of all the craziness, I got sick. And not just a little sick, but really sick. The kind where you have to talk yourself into getting out of bed, and then find any reason you can to lie back down again.

And the dogs. . . where to begin with those little buggers???

For most of the week, I thought that I had the worlds best dogs. They were forced to stay by themselves for a few days and, can you believe this, nothing was destroyed??? Nothing was eaten, nothing (inappropriate) was peed on. I received no barking complaints from the neighbors. All signs points to good dogs. Then we had to go back to work. Wouldn't you know, barking, chewing, whining, etc. Bad dogs. Then my car broke down. . . and my dogs were amazing through out it all. Quietly sitting in the car until the battery guy came. Then quietly sitting for longer until the tow truck guy came. Then not freaking out as the car was loaded onto the tow truck. Then, and this is the best part, they sat perfectly contentedly on my lap during that crazy, long, traffic-y, bumpy, ride home. They were not just good dogs, they were great dogs.

Then the rain started. . . and I got sick. . . Not only did the dogs refuse to go potty outside in the rain, they also took up the entire bed and left me no where to sleep. Don't believe that three little dogs weighing less than 30 pounds total can take up an entire bed?



Everyone seems to have a spot except me. And here we are. . . back to having bad dogs again. But as the sickness got worse and I was forced to self-medicate, the dogs were once again, good dogs. They let me sleep and didn't ask to go out too often (thank doG for the rain) and didn't ask to eat too early in the morning. But this morning, I woke up to this:



yeah. . .my dog licked a hole in his arm. This is the first time in 7 years that he has done this. Anxiety has been an on-going issue throughout our lives together, but it seems to be getting worse and worse. My initial reaction was to get frustrated and call him a bad dog, but he is my baby, and I know that the only thing he ever wants in this world is to make me happy; hell, they all do. . .even pocket. So, despite everything they did or didn't do this week, I know that I really do have some very good dogs.