your sunday sillies ...
Hallelujah I am healed!
Well, mostly. Enough to type anyway. I'll try playing piano today.
Just bumping it on something brings great pain, but the swelling is down.
When we brought in Old Ghost Face to see Dr. Bob, because of the fight, he saw that I was wounded as well.
He gave me some anti-inflammatory pain meds and they REALLY helped!
Sad news is, The Thug has attacked Old Ghost Face once more, then attacked Pathetic Puppy.
I'm trying to get that damn dog obedience trained, but he's a wee bit thick in the head.
Or perhaps, with all his abuse he endured, he has a little bit of brain injury from being hit in the head too much.
He's very sweet most of the time, it's just he gets a little over excited with the 'play' and he reverts back to his old days of fighting.
He didn't attack long enough to take a chunk out of Pathetic Puppy, though. Forget about grabbing his collar. This time, I grabbed the fur at the back of his neck and lifted him off the ground.
I tried leaving The Thug out with Dominican Daddy, while he was The Guard for the night.
I felt too guilty to do that to this sensitive dog. I had to bring him in.
Oh, why do we have a guard?
Papi has left me all alone for a few weeks. He's gone back to Vancouver to see g'ma and tidy up some of our loose ends.
It's really creepy being here all alone sometimes.
Then other times, I'm so damn busy that I don't have time to fret.
I thought I would get a lot of sleep while Papi was gone, because he makes a lot of noise in the night while he's on his graveyard shift.
But I realized now that it's not really him making the noise that wakes me up.
It's those damn dogs. They have a 3 a.m. pee clock.
However, when I get up at 3 a.m., some dog, or rather, shall I say dogS, as in plural, have already relieved themselves on the floor.
How nice it is to mop up piss and pick up shit in the middle of the night.
I'm sure Dominican Daddy gets a kick out of me coming out all bleary eyed, frog voiced, saying, begging, "Go pee."
Of course, why would they? They don't need to. They already did. All over the fucking floor.
Puppies. Big puppies.
It's a bit much for one person to handle all day every day.
I know Papi is busy with a lot of work in Vancouver.
I think we are both working very hard, except his life isn't being surrounded by masses of children ringing the doorbell to bring me more plants as a thank you for lessons.
Masses of children interrupting me as I edit or practise, asking if they can have their turn in the pool at the Hector-Brown Amusement Park.
Masses of children screaming my name as I quickly shut the doors, hide in the designated music area and unplug the doorbell.
The other day someone was ringing the doorbell that I had unplugged.
When that didn't work, he yelled my name for an hour.
When I saw him later, I told him that I can't hear him when I'm practising and that the doorbell is broken.
I think the doorbell will conveniently be broken every Sunday.
Maybe I'll put a sign on it.
'Go away!', but nicely. Still. Go away.
As much as it's hard to be alone without Papi here, even if it's just to stare at him while he sleeping off the Graveyard Coma, still, I want to be left alone.
Lord knows I don't have time for children while chasing around 5 hairy mongrels and trying to convince the 6th that she really, really needs to go out to pee some time.
Old Ghost Face is a bit afraid to go anywhere near The Thug now, and holds it in.
It's only been 2 days. I want Papi back now.
He really needs to take over the puppy graveyard shift so I can sleep.
Hallelujah I am healed!
Well, mostly. Enough to type anyway. I'll try playing piano today.
Just bumping it on something brings great pain, but the swelling is down.
When we brought in Old Ghost Face to see Dr. Bob, because of the fight, he saw that I was wounded as well.
He gave me some anti-inflammatory pain meds and they REALLY helped!
Sad news is, The Thug has attacked Old Ghost Face once more, then attacked Pathetic Puppy.
I'm trying to get that damn dog obedience trained, but he's a wee bit thick in the head.
Or perhaps, with all his abuse he endured, he has a little bit of brain injury from being hit in the head too much.
He's very sweet most of the time, it's just he gets a little over excited with the 'play' and he reverts back to his old days of fighting.
He didn't attack long enough to take a chunk out of Pathetic Puppy, though. Forget about grabbing his collar. This time, I grabbed the fur at the back of his neck and lifted him off the ground.
I tried leaving The Thug out with Dominican Daddy, while he was The Guard for the night.
I felt too guilty to do that to this sensitive dog. I had to bring him in.
Oh, why do we have a guard?
Papi has left me all alone for a few weeks. He's gone back to Vancouver to see g'ma and tidy up some of our loose ends.
It's really creepy being here all alone sometimes.
Then other times, I'm so damn busy that I don't have time to fret.
I thought I would get a lot of sleep while Papi was gone, because he makes a lot of noise in the night while he's on his graveyard shift.
But I realized now that it's not really him making the noise that wakes me up.
It's those damn dogs. They have a 3 a.m. pee clock.
However, when I get up at 3 a.m., some dog, or rather, shall I say dogS, as in plural, have already relieved themselves on the floor.
How nice it is to mop up piss and pick up shit in the middle of the night.
I'm sure Dominican Daddy gets a kick out of me coming out all bleary eyed, frog voiced, saying, begging, "Go pee."
Of course, why would they? They don't need to. They already did. All over the fucking floor.
Puppies. Big puppies.
It's a bit much for one person to handle all day every day.
I know Papi is busy with a lot of work in Vancouver.
I think we are both working very hard, except his life isn't being surrounded by masses of children ringing the doorbell to bring me more plants as a thank you for lessons.
Masses of children interrupting me as I edit or practise, asking if they can have their turn in the pool at the Hector-Brown Amusement Park.
Masses of children screaming my name as I quickly shut the doors, hide in the designated music area and unplug the doorbell.
The other day someone was ringing the doorbell that I had unplugged.
When that didn't work, he yelled my name for an hour.
When I saw him later, I told him that I can't hear him when I'm practising and that the doorbell is broken.
I think the doorbell will conveniently be broken every Sunday.
Maybe I'll put a sign on it.
'Go away!', but nicely. Still. Go away.
As much as it's hard to be alone without Papi here, even if it's just to stare at him while he sleeping off the Graveyard Coma, still, I want to be left alone.
Lord knows I don't have time for children while chasing around 5 hairy mongrels and trying to convince the 6th that she really, really needs to go out to pee some time.
Old Ghost Face is a bit afraid to go anywhere near The Thug now, and holds it in.
It's only been 2 days. I want Papi back now.
He really needs to take over the puppy graveyard shift so I can sleep.
i embrace the peace and quiet of the night
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