. . . another day . . . another . . . injury?

Sunday. Is. Over.

And your intrepid clinically depressed correspondent was bitten by a dog and almost met someone and finally got off the couch . . . sort of . . .

But man it was long. For various reasons, I never got in bed – to sleep – until about 3 in the morning. Now, I don’t know how much sleep I actually got “yesterday” – the concept of individual days increasingly blurs now – and I did keep falling asleep on the couch for brief reading naps – you know, those indeterminate lengths from which you waken and realize your glasses are on and there’s a book in your hands, resting on your chest.

Often I was wakened by dogfights. This beagle puppy, Bear, likes to torture my buddy, Lucky, and they will often be growling and chasing and nipping at one another.

Lucky trying to ignore a Bear attack.

Lucky trying to ignore a Bear attack.

Poor Lucky. I know that sometimes they are playing, but sometimes, it seems far more serious than that. And on those occasions when the adventure is happening over my body or near it, in particular, when Lucky is napping with me and Bear jumps and attacks, it can be quite alarming. Bear also goes on these tears through the house, running like a crazy thing, which is all fine. Someone comes and walks him every day. I play with him – A LOT – all in an effort to wear him out. Yet, he still manages to find time to chew the corners of lovely pillows, tear the trim off of blankets, turn rugs over and chew the backing off, tear holes in the carpet where someone apparently once dropped food, and though I am unable to PROVE it is him, someone is pooping at least once a day in the piano room off the library – which is QUITE the feat as I am IN THE LIBRARY almost 24 hours a day.

In any event, when Bear gets to be too much I try to quiet him, or give him some private time in his kennel. Unfortunately, he KNOWS when this is my desire and starts running around the house away from me like a mad thing. This – his refusal to sit or come – and my inability to get control of the situation – frustrates me to the point of wanting to use a gun on a being OTHER than myself – (I’m reading a lot of John Sandford and police procedurals -gun usage weighs heavily on my mind) – and it is a real challenge to stay calm, because one should NEVER put a dog in a kennel in anger.

Well, yesterday, Bear was almost killing Lucky, who was becoming increasingly upset – I could tell because Lucky “shakes” when upset, and I tried to break up a vicious fight and that damn Bear bit me. Just a snap, but, still, I was PISSED. Which he knew, and he wanted to run, but, I grabbed his color and raised my voice and broke my rule and into the kennel he went while I was angry. Really, REALLY angry.

My injuries

My injuries

As you can see, the injuries were VERY minor. I found some disinfectant and cleaned them out. In the meantime, Lucky had been SO UPSET (I felt bad) by the whole thing that he threw up ALL of his dinner. I cleaned that up. I watered the flowers. I took a shower to calm down and had a glass of wine.

Oh life. But the day wasn’t all bad. I did manage to get myself up off the couch long enough to go to Wegman’s and get a Sunday New York Times. I haven’t read it, however. The effort to drive out and get it exhausted me. I also got myself sushi while there. And a couple of other staples. And too, I’ve lost four pounds since I’ve been here. This is good. Although what difference it makes, I couldn’t say, but, there it is. As my trainer said to me (I had one free session that came with my membership – which I finally took after – what – three months?) “Those pictures of people with flat stomachs and abs (P.S. I am not delusional -I don’t aspire to abs – I just don’t want to sag) are usually unhealthy – on picture day they usually haven’t eaten in days, are dehydrated and . . . ” He went on and on, trying to soften the blow of what he wasn’t saying – I’m never going to look good no matter how much weight I lose, how many hours I spend at the gym, how much I don’t smoke or drink.

So, yes, a friend of mine suggested the wine last night – and so I opened a bottle to have a glass. This morning when I got up – 3/4’s of the bottle was gone. I wish I could blame that on Bear, but, alas, it was me. Also, funny story – I’ve been talking to someone on line – long story – but the point is, herein I am trying to limn for you how the universe works against me – I’ve been VERY HESITANT about meeting, but, coming closer, had almost decided to meet for a drink (I’d have a tea), and wouldn’t you know the internet here went out last night when he sent me an invite, and by the time it came back, yeah, you got it, he thought I’d ignored and etc and ugly and whatever . . . not meant to be.

Like me, not meant to be. Clearly. The. Day. Is. Over. Here comes Monday.

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