It’s all about the presentation.
This is not my waffle.
you romantic little f*ckers
I could have been asked to prom via chalk on park trail? ugh.
this is a seriously underused form of communication.
Fresh linens for the den of convalescence.
If everything goes well. Jazz needs about 2-3 more weeks of constant supervision (minimum)
one week in- I am covering approximately 22 of those hours every day. (she actually slept through the night last night. and this morning when she napped. I napped. so that’s great)
on the very bad fluffing day of 2014 (a.k.a. Saturday). I needed a moment to change my clothes and wash my face before my dad showed up. As I walked up the stairs I said to Murble:
me: You are watching the dog, correct?
Before I was at the top of the stairs, Jazz was at her stitches, and that is going to happen some but, this happened at least three times while I was getting ready. I just wanted to cry because I’d rather just devote five full weeks to making sure she gets better than pretending I have maybe two hours a day for myself and having Jazz get worse or having her recovery time doubled (again).
And on the same day UncleDucey threw a fit and wouldn’t let me change his bandages. We snapped at each other BIG TIME. right in front of my dad. (and then I cried for like an hour. it was a rough day.)
But we found a rhythm on Sunday. And I’ve got my groove today.
giving Jazz a treatball gives me almost 15 minutes. I pulled the old linens and remade the futon. Started the laundry. Started cooking Jazz’s food. Changed UncleDucey’s bandages. Pushed it too far when I ran upstairs to do two minutes of vacuuming. As I walked back into the living room to collect Jazz she had just started to try to bite at her remaining stitches.
UncleDucey: she’s just chewing on her tail.
me: yes. her surgery was at the base of her tail
Gave Jazz another treatball while I finished cooking her food. Had UncleDucey hold Jazz by The Cone while I ran to the basement to change loads of laundry.
I’ve got this. I’ve fucking got this.
I don’t trust VetDarcy. Watching her and pouring Neosporin on her opened stitches seems like a pretty sketchy plan.
There are so many ridiculous things I could say about this span of time.
whatevery. I will do my best. We will most likely get through this.
Jazz is napping and I’m having coffee ice cream and coffee for lunch.
I tried to sneak away while Murble was taking Jazz for a little walk this afternoon. She saw me driving away and threw a fit. So, she went on a tiny outing with me today. It mostly involved her sitting in the sun on AuntPretty1’s patio. She’s exhausted.
where are my pajama pants?
oh. under the sleeping dog.
She has surgery tomorrow. should be fine. We went to the kitchen to grab a snack before her cut off for food this evening. She’d probably choose to have surgery if she knew it meant a second dinner.