I know… I’ve been really, really bad. I haven’t been writing. In my defense, work has been insane and my mother was here for a visit.
Work is still insane, but I’ve decided I need a break. I’ve been working a lot from home and at a dead run at work and I just need some down time. I’m so stressed that I’ve been sleeping with my eyes open. I do this frequently, but most of all when I’m really, really stressed. I wake up and my eyes feel like gravel. I feel like I’ve had absolutely no rest…
Yes. I’m a mess.
So… I survived life with out papa, barely. The dogs liked Mom, who bestowed plenty of treats and love in their direction. Mom and I went to the Terracotta Warriors exhibit at the Houston Museum of Natural Science… it’ was fantastic, but much smaller than I thought it would be.
I also took mom to the Houston Aquarium, which is a restaurant and we had a super fantastic meal that was just the bomb… de-lish.
Two nights after Papa got back, we had a big thunderstorm, which sent Big Dog scurrying up stairs. She hasn’t done that since before we put the laminate on the stairs. It was the funniest thing I’ve ever been through trying to get her down. I heard the ruckus outside of my room and ran out to see Papa at the top of the stairs with Big Dog in hand. Now, greyhounds, they don’t do stairs well anyway, but stairs that have laminate rather than carpet… well she was likely to break her neck. I do mean that literally.
So he’s there a tugging on her collar saying “Come on” and she’s just lookin’ positively pitiful. She’s on all 4 legs, but the front two are two steps down the stairs and the back two were standing straight up on the top step, looking quite shaky. It was precarious to say the least.
I trot up the stairs to “help” and I take over. I grab the reigns… I mean the collar and say, “C’mon good girl” to which Big Dog plops her back end down into the sitting position and digs in. I laffed so hard I cried. So I try again. I give a neck message, tell her she’s a good girl, and tug… to which you can actually see her toes and toe nails “grip” into the carpet.
I looked up at papa, grinned, and said “Wow… such devotion! She REALLY likes you, tho I don’t know why!” I had to do SOMETHING, he was starting to get more than a little angry. And so he laffed, too.
So then we decide manhandling is the only way to go. I put my right arm under her belly, just forward of the hind legs and grip her front chest for “bracing”. Papa grabs the front end entirely and we go one step at a time. By the time it was all over, I was laffing so hard I was in risk of dropping the dog or slipping and hurting myself.
Fun times in the Fizz household for sure!
Catch you on the flip flop!
© ‘Fizz’ 2009