Sarah Blake LaRose (3kitties) wrote,
Sarah Blake LaRose

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Stop, Meghan! What's that sound?

Anyone want some sick animals...?

My friends in TN are so gracious! They have their own personal zoo: dogs, kitties, birds... I'm sure that contributes quite a bit to their graciousness; but it doesn't lessen it. Meghan has had the run of the house since Monday, and I had managed to get over thinking this would be a problem. Meg has been very good and even romped very nicely with their dogs Monday night.

Yesterday, I was sitting here typing away--it's amazing what a new setting can do for the soul sometimes, even when the hostess and family must go to work and other activities. Suddenly, I heard Meghan get up from her napping spot and go into the hallway. I just had a FEELING something was WRONG. I called her back into the kitchen and continued typing and waiting for her to arrive, where I planned to snap a leash on and take her outside.

Then I heard it...

That sound.

But not "Oh ... oh ... oh ... splat!!!

No, not that way.

*SPLAT!!!* ... And *SPLAT* in another spot!

Oh dear! Where are paper towels? ... And *WHERE* was my dog when she made that sound? The acoustics in here are not conducive to superb *SPLAT* localization... The voices in my head began shouting... "It's your dog. You clean it up." "What would you do if we weren't here?" "What would you do if you had a kid?" "That's why you don't let her have the run of the house when you don't know what she could get into." "Well, you could LOOK for something to clean it up with..." "Should I take her out? How many more times is she going to do that?"

I opted to take her out and ask for help in 15 minutes when my friend arrived home--and I realized again that I need to do a bit of work with myself regarding my anxiety about trips to visit sighted people. Apparently this is something that it's time to heal--I've been confronted with it on just about all sides for the last few days, and I didn't really know I had any anxiety about this kind of stuff..

Out we go. *SPLAT*! Piddle piddle... Back in the house.

Super duper patient friend comes in and reveals she has a weak stomach... Oh dear... I really should have cleaned it up! Super-duper other friend comes in and runs to the rescue! They assure me it's all right. They do have animals. It looks like Meg just lost her lunch.

Oh, but wait... "Who pooped in here???" (Oh great... It could only be the dog who wasn't crated ... Miss Splat herself.) And it is obvious that whoever it was was not feeling too well.

Crisis over, I return to typing, Meg on a leash at my feet. ... Suddenly, I feel a jerk at the leash. It's going to come. "Outside, RIGHT NOW!)

We made it into the garage. *SPLAT*! Smack in the middle of the garage.

Then she just stands there, wagging her tail. "Hey, lookee what I did!"</p>

Oh well, back in the house... Pull out my chair.

"Wait! You're gonna step in it!

Huh? She splatted in here? I didn't hear a thing! Oh great! This is gonna be one *LONG* night!

"We're out of paper towels. I need to go to the Dollar Store before it closes. Sarah, do you want to go? You can leave Meghan here."

I stick her in the bedroom, praying there are no splats to clean up when I return. I'm really not into the idea of a housekeeping or nursing career...

All was fine while we procured paper towels--a three-pack... We came back, had dinner, and lingered at the table for a discussion. ...

*Splat splat splat splat splat splat .......*

"What's that???"

"A puking dog?" I thought/said.

"It's the cat!" my friend gasps. "It looks like what Meghan threw up! What have they been eating???"

I don't know how the cat did, but I had to get up with Meghan three times during the night. The final time she was just empty and very hungry probably, but I was afraid to feed her and I desperately needed sleep. I put her in the bathroom and fought off the voices telling me how irresponsible I was for neglecting my dog and not monitoring her... I would not have heard those voices if I had been at home... I would have simply had a dog in a restricted area and a potential mess to clean up--and I would have had the emotional energy to do it.

Meg is fine. She ate half a cup of food this morning, and it is staying down. She is not running the house and won't be until we go home unless my friends are here to help watch her.

On a better note, the conversations over coffee are worth all this! I've not seen J in seven years--much much too long! I'm meeting S for the first time, and I'm in a very safe place to learn to drop my anxieties. I won't stay away so long anymore, finances permitting!


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