I’m doing something with this one handed typing that’s annoying the crap outta me– I keep hitting a key or combination of keys to immediately close the Window I am working on, causing me to lose whatever I was typing into an e-mail, a blog comment, or anything else that doesn’t auto-save. IT IS MADDENING! And yeah, it’s made me cry. Because I can’t always retype the whole thing again. especially since typing us still a tremendous pain in the ass.
I am getting better at the one-handed thing, though. Maybe that’s actually the problem…I might be going too fast. That’s why this windows-closing thing happens, b/c if I were typing slower maybe I’d realize what I’m doing wrong. Ugh.
So, an update:
* I am going to an orthopedist tomorrow morning to find out what the hell is going on with my tailbone pain. I’ve officially reached a breaking point. This falls squarely into the Too Much Info category, but here it is: it’s now apparently affecting my ability to pass a bowel movement. The pain has changed somewhat, and now it hurts even when I am lying down–which has been the only position to offer near-total cessation of pain; and if I sneeze, cough, laugh or even breathe deeply, a deep pain radiates someplace into my right buttock. Overall, it feels like the bottom of my spine is a little rubber stress-relief ball that someone keeps inexplicably placing inside a vise. It’s holding under pressure, but one of these times the pressure might be too much even for a stress-relief ball. I’m worried and kind of depressed.
*OK, a LOT depressed.
* I tried to go to the office today, since I can tolerate the pain for short drives in my car (the seat is at a comical 90-degree angle), but the aforementioned digestive issues and new pain-reactions kept me home one more frickin’ day. I want normalcy so badly. I want to see people, go places and do stuff. Hell, at the moment, I can’t even watch a movie straight-through because I need to get up, move, lie down, etc… Fortunately I’m working on making my left fingers strong enough to hold a book open while lying on my side. So at least I can read while I’m stuck lying around like a loser.
* I can’t go back to work until I get a doctor’s clearance. Work = telecommuting, too. So I need to find out how soon I can return to these activities. In writing. My HR department requires it. I’ve been keeping up on work e-mails since this happened, and I’m communicating with some contributing authors and moving articles along, so.. I have been working. But legally, I guess I can’t even do this much, since if I were an asshole, and I got hurt worse while e-mailing someone for work, I could claim it’s a job-related injury and demand compensation. Ridiculous, on many accounts, but the rule. So, yeah. I’m hanging in limbo right now, not sure what to do/ what not to do. Hopefully tomorrow I can get some kind of documentation, one way or another, from the doctor. I’m out of sick days.
* Hurley needs to go to the groomer. I feel awful when I look at how badly he is blowing coat, and I can’t really get in there and comb out that shedding undercoat. I need my left hand to hold his fur and help prevent pulling. He’s also getting fewer walks. 😦
* My best friend’s little sister got engaged recently, and is getting married on New Years Eve! Yay!
* My BIL is home from LA to celebrate his one year anniversary of being married to my sister. I can’t believe it’s been a year already! And they are doing just fine, even given the stress of living in two different cities as he works towards an acting career. It’s not easy for them, but they’re a model of resiliency, strength and pure friendship/devotion as they face this temporary challenge. I love them so much.
* Remember how that white pitbull came to my house last week, and wouldn’t leave? And I put him in my garage and called animal control to pick him up? Well, I saw a “Missing Dog” poster while out on a walk w/ Hurley yesterday, and it was definitely the same pitbull. His name was Chico. And I remembered who this dog was, for sure: the same one that has been outside loose as we walked past his house, and the same dog that bolted over to Hurley and I each time, the owner yelling, Chico, get over here… It has happened at least three times since we moved here. Luckily, Chico was a happy goofball who clearly liked the look of Hurley and wanted to play with him, so badly… so nothing dangerous happened. But COME ON. How many times does one scenario have to repeat itself before you get better control of your dog?! I can see that once in awhile, a dog can get away from you and dash out like that. Hell, Hurley did it once when my Mom didn’t close the screen door quickly enough as a man and his dog walked past the house. But this was an exception, and I make sure it doesn’t happen again. Chico’s owners seemed like bumbling idiots, to be blunt.
Anyway, this was the same dog, and I decided I’d call the number on the flyer to tell the owner that I knew the dog was taken to Mesa animal control. It was past the 72-hour hold period, but you never know… they still had a chance at springing him. Besides, the dog’s awesome temperment assured me that this wasn’t a dog that would go on the e-list after 72 hours; he’d be on adoption row, no doubt. Plus, he was white, and sad but true, light-colored dogs are always adopted faster than dark ones.
I called and played a little dumb. I said I had seen a white dog like that being picked up by animal control last week. The lady who I talked to said, “Oh, well, yeah, he was at animal control, but when I went to get him, he’d already been adopted by someone else.”
I played along, acting all sorry and stuff, and asked if he had had tags on or anything. Of course, he didn’t. But this was an opportunity to hear why someone would be dumb enough to not put tags on her dog. She said that Chico “had tags, but the problem is, he always chewed them off his collar.” !!!
I had to try not to laugh. Somehow this dog had jaws powerful enough to chew through the metal rings on its own collar, while he was wearing it? And I can tell you that his plain leather collar didn’t look old when he was here… I don’t recall any sign of teeth marks or chewing. It was dirty and worn in spots, but it was normal collar wear and tear. What I think: Chico didn’t ever have tags, and wasn’t licensed.
The lady told me her sob-story, about how Chico was adopted by someone else, and to get him back she would need to pay $400 and contact the new owner to see if they’d be willing to give Chico up and get another dog. She said the new owners ‘refused.’ Holes everywhere in this story:
1) To get your dog outta impound in our county shelters, the fine is $65 before 72 hours passes. If the dog has current tags, they keep trying to contact the owner up to 5 days… after 72 hours the fines range from $65-$150 or so, depending on if the animal needed medical care or special treatment/separate cages, etc. It would never be $400!
2) I think she only thought to try going to the pound after 72 hours had passed. Seriously, who wouldn’t try there first?! Do people not really know that this is what you’re supposed to do? Based on her story, she said that Chico ‘hopped the fence’ while she was on her way to the gym… she says she remembered he was left outside as she was driving, and turned around to come home and put him inside, but he was already gone. Doesn’t it seem like an owner like that, who would remember the dog and go back home in a panic, would do all she could to find her dog, fast?! I don’t know. Seems suspicious. And an awful lot like a careless dog owner.
I asked her if she was going to maybe get another dog, and she laughed. “Well, I already have 4 Pomeranians, so yeah, I kinda have my hands full!” Ohhhhh. So that’s how it is. Too many dogs in one house, poor Chico left to his own defenses too often– and make note of the fact that he was NOT neutered, and had long, curled toenails, poor baby– and it’s easy to see how this all happened.
I’m happy, though. Chico now has a new family, approved by animal control. He’s been neutered, as that’s the policy with all dogs and cats adopted out. He had his shots, and is licensed. I bet his new home will be a vast improvement!
The final interesting thing about this whole story is: why did he come to our house? Was it Hurley? Did he recall Hurley’s scent and follow the trail to our house on purpose? Why was it that Chico ran out to greet us whenever we walked past? Do you think it could somehow be possible that it wasn’t coincidence that he came here? We live at least 6 blocks away so it’s not like he lived across the street. The day he came here, the gate-installers were here, and they commented on “my dog” (meaning Chico) who kept trotting in and out of the backyard as they worked. Chico was on my property for about half an hour before I finally got him into the garage. A dog like that could have easily wandered off down the street in that time. Instead, he was making himself at home as Hurley whined from the windows, wanting to go out there with his ‘friend.’ It’s just kind of weird, I think.
And seriously: what a wonderful dog. If I had the means, health and space to keep him, I really might have done it. I love rescued pit bulls, and hope to have one someday. (Lucky for all of us, I was wise and called animal control instead!)
I always seem to find myself in the path of an animal that needs help. I think that’s kind of awesome, actually. It’s like somehow, they know I can help. Is it possible that animals can sense that kind of thing? Hmm.
Either way, that is the story of Chico, the “missing” pitbull. And I consider it a very happy ending, although I suspect Hurley is going to miss the possibility of seeing that big goofball running to see him on our walks…they really did seem to know each other somehow.
Off to bed now! Two hours off and on of this, which is more than enough. Plus…my Vicodin has kicked in. Good night! 🙂