Therapeutic musings mixed with humorous ramblings and sometimes spiritual notations of life as I know it in written form. A diary of my heart inspired by life.
Monday, July 8, 2013
The Big Bang Theory
Last week was all jacked up due to the 4th of July falling on a Thursday. I'm always grateful for a day off, but having Thursday off made it feel like we had two Mondays in one week. Two Mondays are never a good thing unless the second Monday happens to fall on a Friday, then that's totally doable. On the 4th of July I was watching TV when I noticed Sailor Girl (my very large mastiff) acting a little anxious. It was pretty early in the afternoon, so I noted to myself that she probably needed her doggie Xanax before dark. Before I left the house for my walk, I opened her cavernous mouth (I can stick my arm in up to my elbow), and plopped in 3 pills to settle her down before the fireworks began. I was just finishing up my walk when my phone rang. It was my husband wanting to know when I would be home because he couldn't get Sailor to settle down... She kept trying to climb in his lap. When I got home, he had her in our bedroom, laying quietly on the floor, panting like a puffed-up blow fish. He told me to go ahead and shower because he wasn't leaving her side until I was ready for bed. When I finally made it to bed, I let her snuggle up next to me. He walked past the bedroom and saw her on his side of the bed and told me in the uber authoritative (hehe) voice, that she needed to be off by the time he got out of the shower. Every evening for the rest of the week we went through the same ordeal as everyone seemed to have a continuous celebration throughout the weekend. Last night I was relaxed, laying in bed, reading a book when she exploded through the door like a vice squad in a crack house. She scared the dickens out of me! She walked over to my side of the bed and nudged me with her nose so I walked her downstairs and opened the back door. She just stood there. I told her how ridiculous she was being and walked her to the back of our property where she typically does her doggie business. On our way back to the house I tried to explain to her that she was suppose to be strong and intimidating and my ultimate defender... Not a big wuss who is afraid of a few firecrackers and too afraid to walk to her potty spot in the dark without someone there to hold the flash light. I thought when I bought a Mastiff, I was getting more bang for my buck, but I got more buck than I did bang. Maybe if you just looked at her you might think different(I hope).I guess that's what you call my Big Bang Theory. I it's lame, but it's all I got right now.