Skip to main content

One Happy Cat

Poor DogSpot went in for her surgery and the house is now empty of her furriness and devoid of her activity. MonsterPaw would be in her glory if she would but come out from under my king-sized bed. It seems that all the activity of getting DogSpot's blankie and toys together made kittycat think that something was up. It was. But she hasn't yet realized that the activity was to her benefit.

Generally when we take DogSpot out for the day, MonsterPaw prowls around the house sticking her feline tongue out at everything that DogSpot owns. Then when DogSpot comes back, MonsterPaw returns upstairs to the territory that she has claimed as her own. But today, it must be the eerie quiet that is freaking her out. Probably like two kids who fight constantly but then cry their eyes out when one of them goes on a sleepover. I wish. For four months I've had high hopes that MonsterPaw would eventually realize what a sweet one our DogSpot is. It seems not to be.

I'm sure by the time DogSpot gets home on Wednesday afternoon, MonsterPaw will have temporarily reclaimed the entire house and be justifiably indignant to have it invaded once again.

We did try out the new Doggie Pack on our walk this morning--just to try it out since DogSpot will be laid up for about 10 days after her surgery. It was a success, and I would have posted pictures but there was a fair amount of tail tuckage and coaxing going on, so I was a bit preoccupied. We'll snap & post a few once DogSpot is back to her old self and up for hauling her own poop-bags.

Comments

Unknown said…
TOO ~ too funny! Hopefully Little MonsterPaw's heart grows fonder in DogSpot's absence.
Melanie said…
You are too funny!

Popular posts from this blog

Too Close For Comfort

Depressing: Def., "Realizing that you and your Dearly Beloved are entirely to close to wearing the same pant size. Case in point - Hero Guy came ' har har-ing' out of the bedroom relating that he had accidentally been wearing a pair of my jeans for the last 15 minutes. He wondered why they felt so weird (translated - TIGHT) until he took them off and inspected the tag. He gloated that at least he knows he can fit into a Ladies Size ___ (you really think I'm going to tell you the number?!). My Observations: 1) He had a MONSTER wedgie, so the jeans were entirely too small for him. 2) They are my "fat" jeans, a size bigger than what I actually wear, but I just like the broken-in feeling of them. Or the roominess or something. 3) They were the stretchy kind of jeans, so an elephant could have painted itself into them. 4) What's he bragging about having a girlish figure for anyway? Not very macho if you ask me. Hmph.

Stickin' It Out

I got married today. Well, not exactly today. It was Friday, June 2. But the year was 1989 - 17 years ago. "Amazing", people say. "Good for you", they comment. "You must have picked the right one", the add. Amazing? Yes. Good for me? I'll admit it. But it has nothing to do with picking the right one, really. It's not because I found the perfect boy, and it's certainly not because he found the perfect girl. It might sound a little unromantic, but there never really is a 'right one' floating around out there waiting in the cosmos for the other 'right one' to crash and connect. There may be 'better ones'; there may be 'more easily compatible' or something or other. But the real story is you start becoming the right one the moment you vow that "you do". When I married, I had been 20 for a whole 33 days, we had just completed a 2-year long-distance realtionship and HE was five years older tha

Mixed Feelings

It's been a long time in coming, but as of this morning, I'm no longer a medical transcriptionist. I'm not sure how I feel about that...a little bit relieved, a little bit sad, a lot bit uncertain about whether I'll regret this decision. For the last year or so, I've found that the transcription work isn't fulfilling the need I once had to stay at home with my babies and have an income. I've increasingly felt that I need more interaction and less monotony. I've also felt the pressure of work that constantly needs to be done, with no sense of ever being really "finished." No matter how much work you've done for the day, there's always another note waiting to be transcribed. That goes for sick days, holidays, vacations days or any kind of days. This year, I've dabbled in substituting as a school monitor and office staff, and kind of found my niche in the last few weeks. I'll be working a couple of hours a day in one of the