Shhh…my husband is gone again this week and I’m hiding from the crapfest…
I should have whispered when I publicly outed the “It-Just-Figures Crapfest” last March. I think I pissed it off, because it showed up with a vengeance in April in the form of zumba and a broken ankle. Of course, my husband was gone. And it came back in the summer, when, for only the second time since the kids were born, I took a trip on my own. Of course, at the last minute, duty called, and my husband had to be gone too. So there were the kids and the dog, by themselves. It was only a few days and a 21-year-old and a 15-year-old are fine on their own, right? What could happen?
Doggie glaucoma, that’s what. By the time I got home, my poor Reesie was blind in her left eye. It just figures it would happen the one time I’m away.
My husband traveled most of the fall, and the Crapfest (notice how it has taken on capitalization status) hung around, snickering in the corners, waiting for the worst possible time to unload itself on my day. But, ha! I was in such a funk, I didn’t even care. Take that, Crapfest!
Evidently, the Crapfest does not like to be challenged. It decided to come after my dog.
With my husband home the month of November, the Crapfest went into hiding, no doubt planning its next move. The morning my husband left again, Reesie and I went for our usual walk in the canal park. There had been a couple times in the previous weeks that we passed by a woman sitting on the grass with her three unleashed dogs, but she kept them close as we passed by. Earlier than usual this time, Reesie and I were on our way out of the park when this woman and her still unleashed dogs came jogging toward us. Before I knew it, her maniac poodle was upon us. As Reesie tried to avoid the other dog and I tried to protect Reesie, her leash wrapped around my legs, and down I went. Then the woman came huffing and puffing by, carrying a smaller dog in each arm, and the crazy poodle broke off and followed her. That witch did not say a word (bet she heard me though).
But, hey, what are the chances of something like that happening again?
Pretty good, it turns out. A couple days ago, my son and I took Reesie for a walk after school. It was so nice to have Christian along. We were having a great conversation about habits (I’m reading The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business). On our way back, we passed an older lady (well, older than me anyway) with a huge dog, some kind of lab mix. The dog was on a leash, but he was too much for her. We tried to pass by quickly, but in a flash the dog was out of his collar and on Reesie, like white on rice. He had teeth on her neck, her ears, her leg, her back end. Again, I ended on the ground. That’s when Christian stepped in front of the dog, and suddenly it was over. I made Christian take Reesie away and wait for me, while I made sure the dog’s owner was okay. She was hysterical, sobbing, “I don’t know why he does this!”
Really? He’s done this before??
The Crapfest had one more surprise in store. I put Reesie in the bathtub when we got home, and just as I got her all wet and soapy and went to adjust the water temperature, the faucet broke! For a wonder, I was able to get the water off and finished rinsing her with water from the sink, but dang…it just figures.
And where is my husband this time? Beach-side, in Puerto Rico. Nice, huh?