I have been sick with The Crud, and it’s been a tough one. I thought I’d feel better by now, and I’m still coughing and blowing my nose like a maniac, although I do think it’s a little less every day. I don’t care that my boss said I sound “way worse” than I did on Friday, when I felt like I was really sitting at a bus stop, waiting for the Death Bus to pick me up and shuttle me off to downtown Afterlifeville. I believe I am getting better. Damn it.
It’s probably more than just a cold, but since I haven’t been to the doctor, it’s hard to say. Why haven’t I gone? Because I would bet money that all he’d say is I am getting over a bad cold, and that would be it. I don’t want to waste $25 right now on that co-pay. If anything gets worse, then I will go. But since it’s mostly just status-quo, if not, getting better, I don’t see the point in going yet.
That kinda sounds stupid, when I read it back. I mean, if I am miserable and sick right now, isn’t that enough of a reason to go and see if there is anything I can do to feel better that I’m not already doing? You’d think so. But with me, ehhhh. I’m like a cranky old man in this regard. I feel like mumbling “leave me the hell alone” and shuffling off to my rocker in the corner.
Anyway, this Crud had me down for the whole weekend. I didn’t do anything except adopt Sandy (more on that in a minute!)… I just stayed home, slept, tried to drink as much water and fluids as I could handle, took medicine and slept some more. I did go out for lunch with my Mom and sister on Saturday and I couldn’t wait to just get back home and rest again. Just doing that tired me out more than I could believe. Normally, after lunch with them, I’d be up for stopping in some stores or something. All I wanted on Saturday was my pajamas and a box of tissues.
Sunday was the same thing. I didn’t get showered and dressed until 5pm. It was pathetic. I slept and sat around all day, watching TV like a doofus and not even getting laundry done. I could have at least done that… it’s not like laundry is difficult to do. But, nope. I had no energy whatsoever.
I went to work yesterday because I had to. I finished writing my latest pain in the ass article, so that was good. But my co-workers were definitely aware of my hacking cough and constant noseblowing. One of them even asked if there was anything she could do to help me out so I could just go home. Oh, I wished I could. But it’s not that easy for some stupid reason I can’t fathom. My bosses might notice that I’m pretty sick, but they don’t say anything, ever, along the lines of, “why don’t you head out of here when you’re done with your work?” And if I ask to go home early, or to (god forbid) telecommute, I get the strangest look from my direct supervisor. Like, “you are a crappy employee and I’m disappointed” even if he does say yes, he would be OK with letting me go. To that, I’m thinking: what, do you think I am LYING about being sick or something?!? If I am, wow. Give me an Oscar.
I never had these problems until that damn broken-bones incident in April. That ruined everything. Now, no one wants to ever let me be at home. You’d really think that I had fucked up royally back then, and didn’t do ANY work. Nope. They just hated not seeing me every day, when you get down to it. I had too much autonomy and it made it hard to micromanage me. So, as a result, here I am at this very minute, hacking and feeling gross as hell, when I should be home for all intents and purposes. Whatever. You guys suck, that’s all. I like working at my company, I do. I just don’t like this particular bullshit.
Shifting gears! Let’s talk about SANDY!
And so, it came to pass that on Saturday, I became the owner of my second Sheltie.
Her foster dad brought her over to my house around 1pm, along with a supply of food and a leash. He was so nice, and I think he was a little sad to say goodbye to her… but he had his next foster dog waiting out in the car, a dog with epilepsy named Pepper… so he had his hands full, if you think about it. But anyway, there she was. Sandy. (By the way, that’s the name she came with. I can’t really change it, because she’s always had that name, and she knows it so very well.)
I met them out at the car and took her leash to walk her into her new home. Hurley was right there, excited to welcome her… and Simon was nearby, watching the whole thing with fascination. My Mom and sister came by so they were there for Sandy’s homecoming, too. Everyone loved her. She’s gorgeous, for one thing. And so mellow and sweet. Just an awesome, well-balanced dog.
The president of the rescue stopped by next with the adoption paperwork, and so I could pay the adoption fee… which he reduced by about $60 because Sandy is 10 years old, older than most dogs in their care. I still gave them an even $150, which he was grateful for. Hey, it was the least I could do.
Sandy fits in pretty well. At first, Hurley was a little ticked off, I think, that she was there. He was ignoring her, and if I was talking to her at all, he would walk over and make sure I paid attention to him. He didn’t show any aggression or even assertiveness, really. He was just letting me know that he wasn’t sure what he made of all of this yet. Sandy, for her part, was perfectly agreeable and seemed OK with everything going on around her.
It’s been getting even better every day. They’re beginning to try to play with one another. Sandy is funny, and loves to lie on her back with legs straight up in the air, and have me rub her belly. She makes the cutest little grunt-noises when I do this, and wags her tail. This display makes Hurley happy, and he begins dive-bombing towards Sandy’s face with an open mouth, play-biting the air right near her face and ears. He hasn’t quite gotten to the point where he makes actual contact, but he’s getting really close.
She relaxed pretty fast, overall, and was already barking at sounds she heard outside and/or at the door by Saturday night. (In my experience, new dogs take a day or two to feel at-home and don’t bark until that point.) She’s LOUD! Much louder than Hurley. This is both awesome, and horrible. Awesome, mostly, because she makes for a mean-sounding guard dog. I, the single lady livin’ alone, appreciates the two-dogs-barking alarm and deterrent system. The other me, the one that is sleeping at 3am, does not appreciate this so much. Especially when the sound the dog hears is another dog barking in another yard, or the cat knocking something off the pantry shelf. But still. I’ll take it.
She’s a big eater, if I let her. So I have learned not to let her. I’m slowly transitioning to one bigger meal at breakfast for both her and Hurley, and then a small bit of dry food in the dish to nibble on throughout the day. So far, so good, but it’s only the second day of doing this.
I bought glucosamine tablets for dogs, so I’m giving her that to help with her obvious leg arthritis. Her foster had been giving it to her, so I’m continuing it. Hurley is getting a half-dose as well, as a preventive. Can’t hurt!
She’s a lot easier to brush and groom than Hurley, which is so nice. She enjoys being brushed, whereas Hurley tries to escape every time, no matter how gentle I am. Also, she sleeps on the tile, never on the carpet. Must be a thing of hers, because her foster dad said she did the same thing at his house. I gave her an old comforter of mine in case she wants something to ball up and sleep on, and so far I’ve seen her on it a couple of times. Mostly, Simon likes to sit on it. So cute.
Simon is doing so well, although he is turning out to be a tattletale. Yesterday, we had An Incident. It was the first day of Sandy being home all day while I was at work, and I was wondering if I would come home to a mess. She had no way of knowing when I would be back, of course, so she might not “hold it” the whole time.
Sure enough, she pooped. In my bedroom. (Why do they always seek out the only carpet in the house?!) I wouldn’t have known it right away if it weren’t for Simon, the Snitch. That’s because I have no sense of smell right now from this cold. But Simon was stationed at the bedroom door when I first came home, meowing to me. Very unusual. He NEVER does this.
So, I went to him and saw the mess in the room. I was kind of pissed, for obvious reasons, but not exactly surprised. It was her first day, and I was gone 10 hours (since I can’t easily get home on my lunch hour, especially on busy days like yesterday). And she DID overeat on Sunday. Her foster dad assured me her housebreaking habits were perfect, and I believe him. With any luck, today I will come home to an unsoiled house now that she might begin getting the hang of things, and she’s eaten a lot less.
But I laughed the whole time I cleaned up the mess because of Simon. He perched on this little cabinet in my room and watched me clean it up. If I made eye contact with him, he’d meow. He really seems like he’s put-off when one of these DOGS messes up his house! It’s just so funny. (He also gets annoyed if the litter box isn’t clean, sometimes. And I clean it twice a day on most days. He will sit in the doorway of the laundry room and meow until I come to clean it… and he rubs up against my legs as I’m doing it, like he’s saying thank you. It’s very endearing, I have to say! I’m so grateful for having a neat cat, since I know they aren’t all like that!)
Last night, I braved my first walk outside in several nights. I don’t want to be holed up inside forever with this cold, and the dogs needed a break, too. It was also the first walk with Sandy. She did well! She got so excited when I said “go for a walk?” she started barking and hopping up a little. It was cute. She knows to sit before I will put the leash on, which is the rule in our house. Once we were on the walk, she rushed to keep up with Hurley’s younger, quicker pace… but she slowed down gradually, and I tried to encourage her to take it slow. But she did well. No pulling, and she’s not interested in peeing on every lamp post and bush, thank God. Not like Hurley. I know all his spots, and automatically let the leash out when we get close to them because he never ceases to pee in those places. Never.
I like her a lot. She’s adorable as hell, and the other pets do seem to like her, all things considered. I’m happy with this mostly-unexpected addition to our home, and think it’s going to work out just as it is meant to. She’s part of the family now, and I’ll keep her safe and happy for the rest of her life.