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Greetings from Panera #3932
Jun. 23rd, 2006 08:49 pmOy, what a week. I feel as if I've barely had time to breathe, but it's surprisingly nice out right now and I'm taking advantage of the free wireless because Bellsouth's jerking me around about our bill with them. I swear, if there were easier/more convenient/even slightly less convenient options.... Ma does not want to give up her phone number, though; I don't blame her, she's had it for nearly as long as she's had me. At least since everything's in her name, I can weasel myself saying I'm not doing business with the gits.
Anyway. Belatedly, I've been reading peoples' reactions to the
charlottelennox
Not as a criticism, but I know some people find the whole thing some sort of funny - in the black humour or ironical sense, I'm guessing. I can't, myself. Grimmer than Cadet James Kirk, me.
But enough of that. Funny-horrible puppy story!
The other morning... Wednesday, it was... they got me up a little earlier than normal, which in this case means something in the vague area of 06:45. Vague, mind you, because I try to refuse to open my eyes during the whole procedure, to wit: Stumble to bedroom door, let horde of dogs out; open hall door fully, follow dogs to front of house and usually into the kitchen, trying to ensure Annie does not squat on the way; tell dogs 'back door, back door!'; open said back door, trying to keep from getting stampeded, brace open the screen door and leave the solid door cracked for re-entry, 'cause d00d, I'm going back to bed.
This leaves girlpuppies an hour or two, depending on if Ma gets up, to run FREEEEEE and unfettered in the yard, with various barking and frapping and all that going on. Eventually, they run back inside to stay, mostly, settle down with Milk Bones or rawhide, or just run back and forth inside. Frequently, I am jumped up upon, which means I have two corgwn and a whateversheis sitting on my hips/pelvis, back, legs and/or head, sometimes chewing on my hair. This time, Meissa made this mad riccochetting dash into the bedroom and pelted up onto the bed at which point, after reaching for her, I started yelling in dismay.
She wasn't just wet. She wasn't just wet all over. She was wet and muddy. ON THE BED. AAAAUUUUUUGH!!! OFF, OFF, OUTSIDE!
Mind you, I was sleeping in a little, so it's close to 09:30. A good time to leave for work is 10:00. I usually don't leave at a good time, because I'm me. So here I am, in my nightclothes, at 09:30, with a very muddy corgi to wash off, three other dogs with varying amounts of wet dirt on them, a mudpuddle to find and interdict, and a trail of clay-ey pawprints from one end of the house, over the carpeting, to the other.
:faceplant:
Would you believe I got at least the immediate part of the problem handled, got dressed and to work without being late? There were four wet and not entirely happy dogs locked in the kitchen, waiting for my un-wet but definitely unhappy mother to decide whether they should be fed or not, but I managed.
There's still a trail through the living room, though. Must vacuum. Argh.
Anyway. Belatedly, I've been reading peoples' reactions to the
charlottelennoxNot as a criticism, but I know some people find the whole thing some sort of funny - in the black humour or ironical sense, I'm guessing. I can't, myself. Grimmer than Cadet James Kirk, me.
But enough of that. Funny-horrible puppy story!
The other morning... Wednesday, it was... they got me up a little earlier than normal, which in this case means something in the vague area of 06:45. Vague, mind you, because I try to refuse to open my eyes during the whole procedure, to wit: Stumble to bedroom door, let horde of dogs out; open hall door fully, follow dogs to front of house and usually into the kitchen, trying to ensure Annie does not squat on the way; tell dogs 'back door, back door!'; open said back door, trying to keep from getting stampeded, brace open the screen door and leave the solid door cracked for re-entry, 'cause d00d, I'm going back to bed.
This leaves girlpuppies an hour or two, depending on if Ma gets up, to run FREEEEEE and unfettered in the yard, with various barking and frapping and all that going on. Eventually, they run back inside to stay, mostly, settle down with Milk Bones or rawhide, or just run back and forth inside. Frequently, I am jumped up upon, which means I have two corgwn and a whateversheis sitting on my hips/pelvis, back, legs and/or head, sometimes chewing on my hair. This time, Meissa made this mad riccochetting dash into the bedroom and pelted up onto the bed at which point, after reaching for her, I started yelling in dismay.
She wasn't just wet. She wasn't just wet all over. She was wet and muddy. ON THE BED. AAAAUUUUUUGH!!! OFF, OFF, OUTSIDE!
Mind you, I was sleeping in a little, so it's close to 09:30. A good time to leave for work is 10:00. I usually don't leave at a good time, because I'm me. So here I am, in my nightclothes, at 09:30, with a very muddy corgi to wash off, three other dogs with varying amounts of wet dirt on them, a mudpuddle to find and interdict, and a trail of clay-ey pawprints from one end of the house, over the carpeting, to the other.
:faceplant:
Would you believe I got at least the immediate part of the problem handled, got dressed and to work without being late? There were four wet and not entirely happy dogs locked in the kitchen, waiting for my un-wet but definitely unhappy mother to decide whether they should be fed or not, but I managed.
There's still a trail through the living room, though. Must vacuum. Argh.
