Alison Hodgson

Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.

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This morning, after dropping her siblings off at a nature camp, Eden and I were driving to her cousin’s. She spent the time begging for a couple of kittens. The first week we drove to this camp, Christopher saw a “Free Kittens” sign and it went into Eden’s vault. Now, every week she makes her case, and every week I say no.

This week was no exception. I reminded her of Jack, our puppy, the animal for whom she prayed with me for over a year, that one. “We have Jack and he is a big responsibility.” I said.

“Oh, Mom, I don’t want to deal with Jack,” was her quick reply.

She’s four.

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Rainy days and Mondays

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Oh Kids, we don’t have any half and half. We don’t even have the powdered creamer I keep for back up. I am facing a Monday morning without coffee.

I have brewed up some red tea and it’s sitting there in a pretty mug trying to look all fetching… but it’s not coffee. I asked Paul what he was going to do about this, being the man of the family and all. He hasn’t gotten back to me on that.

I should mention that it’s raining which is fantastic for the soil and for making wet dogs, if you like that, but I don’t, particularly in my living room (soil or wet dogs, although both have a way of getting in, especially if men, who ought to be on missions to secure properly creamed coffee, open the door).

Have I mentioned that it’s Monday morning and that we are embarking on our third week of school?

If you don’t see all the components of a Sad Oprah you haven’t been reading this blog long enough.

Monday Monday

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I started the day off with a physical. In the words of an anonymous Publisher’s Clearing House Winner, “Whoopee! Thank you!”

I am thankful that I get to go to the doctor and yet sitting around in paper garments whilst being poked and prodded is not my idea of a good time.

The pool is green and we are trying valiantly to get the chemicals balanced. It’s that time of year.

It’s overcast and the kids are squirrelly.

We’re going to have a bite of lunch and then work outside. Nothing like a little physical labor to get the blood pumping on a doldrummy sort of day…or so I’ve heard.

I can’t even tell you how much the dog is shedding. The vet told us there are two big stages of shedding: in early Spring and the Fall. Here we are in July with a carpet of black fur, despite constant sweeping, Swiffering and vacuuming. If this is normal shedding I don’t think I’m going to make it. He has been limping since Thursday. I think he’s getting nervous that we haven’t spent any money on him in a week.

A picture of my day

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Note the rug kicked back from the door, the toys piled beside, the flip flops in front and the barking dog on the other side. You might also note the measuring cup (for the dog’s food) peeking out from under the couch, the junk piled up on the chair and, if you are feeling strong, the deck.

But the man is coming home today and then, after a few hours in the office tomorrow, is on vacation for a week. I plan to pick through the rubble this weekend while he is around to mind the children and the dog.

I want to live in that place where order and tidiness do not involve child abuse, but I have learned through extensive research, that Day 9 of Paul out of the country is not the day to try.

Alpha Dog

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When we made the appointment for Jack’s castration (let’s just call it what it is) I knew it was on the fourth anniversary of my father’s death. I wanted it done on a Friday so that Paul would be home over the weekend to help with any complications or difficulties. What I didn’t know was that some guy in Europe was going to get fired necessitating Paul’s boss to go to Germany and Paul to go to Taiwan in his place. Fantastic.

Since this trip came out of nowhere, in the middle of a busy time, punctuated by a couple puppy medical emergencies, it was only a few days before Paul left that I remembered I would be handling this gig solo. All I could do was sigh.

Until the vet mentioned it this morning, the cone was not on my radar. “How long will he have to wear it?” I asked.

“Five days,” she said, but it might as well have been fifty. Oh Sweet Tallulah Belle!

“He’s going to be a tired boy tonight,” she said and I mentally crossed Day One off the list.

At that moment he was practically frothing at the mouth in his excitement to greet and sniff sniff sniff her hands. He knows that to say hello he has to stay DOWN and OFF. He’d pop a squat and then hop up, jump and lunge, drop down for a second and then repeat the cycle, his tail a constant wag. He finally settled down long enough for her to greet him.

I told her about the way he will whine and bark if he is separated from me by more than ten feet.

“You’re clearly his Alpha Dog,” she said and then gave me some tips on how to deal with it.

I just thought he was a Mama’s boy.

Tonight when we picked him up (at 5:50, thank you very much) I could hear his loud barking from the back.

“He hates the cone,” the receptionist said, “I felt so bad when we put it on. He has such a cute little face. I just love him.”

People who work with animals tend to be kindly souls and I find that they project their own generosity of heart and love for animals on the people who choose to own them. I am grateful for this goodwill.

The vet came out as I was trying to settle the bill and restrain Jack who was bashing his cone into everything and everyone.

“He’s not as sleepy as I’d like,” she said.

You and me both, Sister.

It has been a chaotic night but I’m used to that. As the Alpha Dog to this puppy and, while Paul’s gone, the household in general, I can handle it.