Some Days the Post Writes Itself: This is Not Often a Good Thing
I know it's no secret that my mind is a little, shall we say, idiosyncratic these days when it comes to, well, thinking, which, after all, is kind of what a mind is FOR. I know, I know - pandemic, perimenopause, probably some other things that start with the letter P that I can't currently parse because, well, broken brain (I will stop overusing commas now, I promise).
Today may have set a new standard.
So I had to pick my mom up for blood work. This is not fun in the best of times, and right now half the labs in our immediate area are closed - I don't know why, I suspect staffing issues. So I told her to be prepared for it to suck.
I pulled up to their house and I was going to go in for her, but I checked my phone to make sure I was going to the right location, and she came out. So I just started driving.
About halfway there I hear a gentle, inquisitive huff from the back seat.
I had forgotten that Lucy was back there in her carrier for me to drop off with my dad.
See? What the fuck, WHAT THE FUCK.
I couldn't really go back because we had done the online check-in and it made it sound like we were barely going to make it in time. Of course I knew there was an OVERWHELMING probability - nearly a certainty, really - that this was not the case, but if it was, and we missed the time, because of me? People, it does not bear thinking about. (My mom is wonderful. She helps and supports us. She is generous and kind. Almost always. Our relationship is great for like, 97% of the time. The other 3% is me driving her places. Especially if they're medical appointments).
So we got there, got her checked in, and I went back to the car to hang out with my confused, annoyed, making-weird-noises dog. I would go in periodically to check on the progress of the queue, of which, for a long, long time, there was none.
My mom said she was getting light-headed from fasting. She had been fasting since midnight and it was 8:45 a.m. I shouldn't eye-roll because what the hell do I know, maybe that is a long time for most people, my hunger signals are so buggered I could go for thirty-six hours and still not know if I should be hungry.
Lucy was bugging out, and there was a pet store right next door to the lab, so I took her in to buy a new harness, which we've been meaning to do anyway. The nice gentleman was helping us. Lucy pooped on the floor. He stepped in it. I bought a bunch of stuff in partial recompense. It's a good thing reputable pet stores don't have actual animals anymore or I might have bought an apology iguana.
I walked Lucy around the parking lot. I fed her a bunch of liver treats. We got back in the car and she sat on my lap with her head in a sunbeam for a few minutes and I did yoga breathing. I told both of us that this was far from the worst thing that would happen in our lives.
The line finally started to move. My mom finally got her blood drawn. I dropped her off, brought Lucy home and left again for my flu shot (Lucy didn't beg to get in her carrier and come with me like she usually does, can't imagine why).
I got my flu shot. I came home and remembered that I have to send Eve a stamped, self-addressed envelope so she can send me something (long story, another post). I get two envelopes out. I put a stamp on one and start addressing it to Eve. I wonder why it's so bumpy. I turn it over. I have put the stamp and the address on upside down.
Lucy and I are going to the vet now. Pray for us.
Okay, Lucy and I are home. Things went fine. Well, for her they did. I'm the one that has to live with the fact that my dog will willingly do butt stuff for peanut butter treats.
"I'm the one that has to live with the fact that my dog will willingly do butt stuff for peanut butter treats. "
We all have these days, but the way you can express it really makes the rest of us appreciate you so much.
Also, what kind of dog is Lucy? She's adorable!