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I just live here…
A thank you once in a while.
Please, would also be nice to hear more often, it makes one feel less like a servant.
I’m sick of you asking “what’s for dinner?” and not helping me out with an idea when I give you a list of things I could make. I am tired of making that decision day in and day out. Then having you complain that you didn’t want that.
You know you’ve been told frequently that you are difficult to hear (and not just by me) because you mumble or speak too quietly. Why don’t you turn down the sound on the TV and speak loud enough for everyone to hear you.
Because you’re afraid I won’t hear you if you fall or get sick again, I’ve slept on the couch for well over a year now. My back hurts.
When you fall, you insist I help get you up and you know you’ve injured my back enough times that…my back hurts.
You get mad at me when I call for help to get you up.
I cook.
I clean as best as I can…but my back hurts.
I go to our family doctor, tell him my back hurts, and he asks how you are doing.
He doesn’t check my back. He doesn’t order x-rays or MRIs to see if there is damage. He quickly listens to my heart and my lungs. Asks if I need refills on my pills but ignores me when I tell him my back hurts.
Time for a new doctor who doesn’t know you. A doctor who sees me and not you when I am standing in front of him.
I have one friend who comes to see me. All the others have walked away. I can’t get away to make new friends either. You don’t like me to be gone for more than an hour. If I am gone longer, you look for any excuse to repeatedly call me on my cell phone (I knew I was going to regret getting it.
I am not a happy person anymore. I don’t laugh much. I do cry a lot.
I just live here, I don’t enjoy life.
How long do you prolong suffering?
I was reading a post in a dog related FB group last night and was so sad that someone had a dog who has had severe neurological problems since he/she was only months old.
They’ve controlled seizures with medication but he/she has other symptoms they cannot control. Severe ones. Enough to make me think the dog’s quality of life is quite poor.
Yes, I know they love her. But seriously, love also means knowing when our beloved companions are suffering and you as a responsible owner can stop the suffering. You don’t keep the poor pet alive because you cannot bear to be without them.
Yes, it hurts to let them go. It hurts a lot. It is devastating. Please, when they are suffering, let them go.
When Gavin, aged 15, reaches that point in his life where the quality of his life is at its low point, we will let him go as we have other sweet companions we loved with all our hearts. For now the silly boy still bounces through life.
Easy day…where?
Warmer weather, melting snow, and plenty of mud to track into the kitchen. The dogs are in their glory.
Too much to do this week to worry about things like mopping the kitchen floor, grocery shopping, taking G for her PT at 10 a.m., Lucy to the vet for a check up and shot Thursday evening, and hoping to squeeze in getting some laundry done somewhere in there.
I already started the week with getting my glasses fixed, picking up medication for Gavin, and a pharmacy run for The Curmudgeon.
Twisted my knee tripping over Gavin which put off everything I wanted to get done yesterday. Fun. Not.
Happy birthday to me…yeah sure.
Woke on my birthday with a lovely stomach virus.
If I wasn’t in the bathroom, all I wanted to do was sleep.
Still had to take dogs out every time I got comfortable.
Still had to do stuff for The Curmudgeon every single time I got comfortable.
Absolutely insisted I was NOT cooking dinner on my birthday…he ordered Chinese food. He gets points for that.
Still had to dish it up and do dishes afterwards.
No cake… as has been the norm for 40+ years.
At least there should have been cake…
Day 4 of imprisonment due to snow…
My apologies to Bill Waterson for using these, but they are so apropos today….and most of us here need the laughs.
Please go like him on FB and buy his books!!! He’s a genius.
Help, I’m trapped in the house with The Curmudgeon!
According to the reporters around here…we dodged a bullet with this storm. Yeah, 14 inches of snow is dodging a bullet because all around us they got almost double that.
Yes, I said double that.
My pups are aghast at the 14 inches we got I can imagine their horror at more than that.
My front walk, driveway aren’t shoveled. I am not allowed to do that and our snow clearing gal has a large customer base so we will get done sooner or later.
My back steps and a small spot are cleared for the dogs. I managed to throw my back out doing that too.
The dogs aren’t thrilled with their tiny space to go but that’s too bad.
Our street is not plowed and a mess. I don’t know how the heck I am going to get G to her appointment on Friday.
I hate this weather.
Well, it’s here…
We are in the middle of a blizzard.
I hate snow.
I want a nice warm beach. No snow.
Lucy hates snow.
She wants a nice warm beach too.
Chances of us ever living on a beach are = to our chances of winning the lottery.
Well, that train jumped the track
I can’t remember what I’d planned to write about.
Why?
Because WordPress screwed with the *write page again and completely threw me for a loop.
Thanks a lot guys.
The last *improvement* was not an improvement and you’ve made it worse.
Frito casserole is what was for dinner
- 3 cups Fritos corn chips
- 1 onion, chopped
- 1 (19 ounce) can chili
- 1 cup grated cheddar or Mexican blend cheeses
Directions
This is what happens when you see a large display of Fritos, upon entering a store, when you haven’t been able to find Fritos other than in tiny bags for years.
At least that floor is clean…
The dogs had tracked in so much mud it had to be done. I can’t believe that it took me an entire day yesterday to mop the kitchen floor. I used to get every floor in this house mopped in that amount of time.
This is what happens when your back gets wrecked by a Curmudgeon and two dogs.
Anyway, today I am wearing red and not lifting a finger. I am on strike.
Doggonedmysteries 