Today Was A Good Day

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The best part of day has been finding a Jordan almond in my purse from Chickpea's bridal shower on August 30th.

That is all.

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Mollykins

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Molly has been my buddy for over three years.  For some time, Molly was the reason I woke up and went to work, the reason I didn't quit my job, and my escape from the office drama.  Today, Molly is still the reason I wake up, but now it's to take her potty so she doesn't have an accident in the house.  

Molly has lots of health problems, but that is to be expected from an old dog.  According to the vet, "I have done all I can" for the ol' girl and because she has decided she does not want to eat her prescription food, or take her medicine, she is having lots of accidents.  Ultimately, renal failure will seal her fate.

I can think of many reasons to justify "putting her to sleep," 

1) She's almost 16 years old!

2) Her health is not going to get better.

3) She is very skinny, her bones are sticking out... But she's eating.

4) She needs to go potty 2-3 times an hour.

5) She's having lots of accidents.  Some require a bath, her bedding to be washed and the carpet to be cleaned.  

6) She is wearing a diaper full-time.  I don't want this to lead to skin irritation/infection.

7) Because of her accidents and the time it takes me to prevent/clean them, I have been asked by management to leave her home.  As most of you know, my boyfriend has a full-time job (M-F) and a part-time job on the weekends.  He also has three kids that will be returning to school soon and are participating in after school activities.  I on the other hand, have a full-time job, a part-time job and graduate school.  I simply cannot imagine leaving Molly home by herself in her condition.   

I know that if I leave her home, she will need to remain in the kitchen because I don't have a yard.  Even if I did, she can't be in this heat... She wouldn't last five minutes.  Because she can no longer walk on slick surfaces, I would have to put her socks on her and hope that she keeps them on all-day.  Plus, I'd have to put towels down on the floor.  Because she doesn't like to be alone, she will probably move the towels while searching for a person to be with.  Then, she will slip on her potty and end up stuck on her belly, unable to get up on all fours.  Yes, this happens a lot and I imagine it hurts her.  Finally, can you blame me for not wanting to return home to find my furkid dead and covered in shit!?  Wouldn't it be better to let her pass away in my arms before she feels alone, scared and in pain?

But I continue to hesitate for my own selfish reasons.  One, because she cannot talk, I will always wonder, "Was it too soon?" and two, I simply cannot watch life leave the body of such a sweet creature.    

Some history on Molly...

When I started working at The Creek, Dee was living in her home, but planned on returning to The Creek (she had lived there once before, with Molly).  Before anyone can move into The Creek, an assessment has to take place to ensure that the individual is appropriate for our community and vice versa.  Because I was in training, I joined my co-workers on the assessment that day.  I remember sitting in Dee's living room, playing with the giant, rambunctious dog that was jumping about when my director of nursing asked Dee to write a sentence (it was part of the assessment), she wrote, "I don't want to leave my home."  

On our way out I remember walking down Dee's driveway to my co-workers car when she turned and said, "Bye Molly!"  I asked, "Who's Molly?"  She replied, "Molly used to live at The Creek, she's Dee's dog."  I turned to look, but never saw her.

A few days later, the day before Dee's planned arrival, I received word that Dee passed away suddenly.  I remember thinking to myself, "Wow, she really didn't want to leave her home."  Sometime afterward, I truly can't remember if it was hours or days, I remember my co-worker speaking with a member of Dee's family via telephone.  At the end of the conversation she told me that the family planned to put Molly down.  Instantly, the animal lover in me was front and center, I thought to myself, "I must find this dog a home."  I replied, "My mom just lost our dog, maybe she'd be interested?"  I immediately got on the phone to ask my mom if she wanted a dog?" and to no surprise, she had a ton of questions for me: breed, gender, age, etc.  To be honest, I couldn't answer any of her questions because I didn't know the answers, I simply knew that there was a dog that needed a home!  

Some time after that, again, I don't remember if it was hours or days, a family member of Dee's arrived at my office door with what I thought, at the time, was an ugly little dog.  I don't remember much, if anything, about the introduction/acclimation stage, I just remember thinking, "This is a good little dog."  A few days later, my executive director said we could keep Molly as our "community pet."  I remember being so happy that this little dog had a place to live that I hugged her (if you know me, this is rare!).  From that moment on, it was me and Molly.  Because I was the one who brought Molly into this situation, I made sure to take good care of her.  I made sure she had food, water, walks, baths, clean doggy beds, regular vet visits, etc.  It wasn't long before I was head over heels for this curly-haired mutt.

I could continue to gush about how much I love this little dog, but I will spare you for the simply reason that if I continue to write, I will feel as if I were writing her eulogy and probably start crying...  At work... A big no, no as far as I'm concerned.

Knowing a piece of Molly and I's history together may help you to better understand the turmoil happening within me.  Do I rob my furkid of the life, I tried so hard to preserve and enhance?  Ugh, I'm just so torn.

That is all.

Sauerkraut

Shity Shity Bang Bang

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I had a shity day, literally. 

 

I needed to go pick up a receipt from the flower store and while I was out, I stopped for an Egg McMuffin, one of my favorites.  They fucked up my “large, iced caramel, mocha Frappuccino” by the way.  This information does have purpose, I promise.  Moving on...   

Later, when I got back to work, it was time for the residents to do Yoga with Rudy.  I hate yoga… Because Rudy annoys the shit out of me.  So, while Rudy did her thing, I was trapped in the activities office and Molly was trapped in my office.  I considered walking across the room to go to my office, but I ran the risk of Rudy instructing the residents to “roar” at me… That’s her passive aggressive way of letting those who interrupt, know so.  To be honest, I just couldn’t deal with it that day.

So, after Yoga with Rudy, I made my way across the room to my office to discover Molly lying by the puppy gate, normally she’s on her bed.  Then I noticed she was shaking.  When Molly shakes it means one of four things: 1) She’s cold.  2) She’s nervous. 3) She has to go potty and 4) She did something naughty.  This time is was four. 

My sweet, little pooch took, what I believe to be, a massive dump in my office.  As if that weren’t bad enough, she walked in the poop until every drop of it was ground into the carpet, there was shit everywhere!  So, I spent a large chunk of my day scrapping dog shit out of my pup’s paws.  The shit was so thick that it wouldn't come off her paws by simply walking around outside, which is why I had to scrap it out.  It was like her new paw pads were a layer of shit.   

When I finished cleaning the carpet in my office, I took a trip to the bathroom where I regretted eating my Egg McMuffin, but I regretted it more when I sharted myself on the way out to the dumpster.  I’m not sure what I was thinking, but instead of going directly to the bathroom, I kept walking to put the trash into the dumpster.  Perhaps, I was questioning whether or not I just shit myself... At the age of 32... At work.  Indeed, back in the building I had to lose the undies and clean myself up.

Shortly after, I got a call from my boss telling me that I had to transport a resident to a doctor’s appointment.  Normally I wouldn’t mind but today, I was busy pinching my cheeks and it was 20 minutes away… Oh yes, and this was this residents 800^th trip to the fucking gynecologist!  As much as I enjoyed riding in my car listening to her tell me how “pleasant” her gynecologist was and how he “is inside her every 3 months,” I was slightly more concerned that I would lose my job for pulling over to shit on the side of a public road.

When we arrived, I felt fine.  However, while chatting with my mother on the phone in the parking lot, I suddenly realized, bad things were about to happen.  Pinching my cheeks, I rushed as fast as I could into the hospital begging for directions to the nearest bathroom.  I pushed passed the usher, or whatever the fuck you call them, and rushed to the pot.  When I made it, I decided my days of Egg McMuffin’s are over. 

Luckily, there was a pharmacy right outside the bathroom where I was able to purchase a bottle of Pepto Bismol.  I sipped it, with class, in the front lobby… Where I attempted to be extra kind to the usher lady I plowed through minutes prior.          

In other news, I received a little gem of a text message today.  When I first opened it I saw the text, “class photo” and I quickly glanced at the photo before realizing I couldn’t see it well enough.  Then I noticed a weird kid, front and center.  I thought to myself, “What the hell is that kid doing?”  And then it hit me… “Oh fuck, please don’t let that be my nephew…”  It is.  Yup, my nephew is “that kid.”  So proud.

 

 

I also went to the store without a bra on tonight and decided that I need to lose weight so I can shave my vagina better.

That is all.

Sauerkraut