The Tao of the Fur Mommy...
Not an easy row to hoe...
Take for instance this mornings adventures...makes me want to reconsider putting the dog outside on a tether and opting for blissful ignorance.
But you know I won't. I'm a Fur Mommy through and through; though I may bitch and complain...it is what I am...and I am old enough to have reached, if nothing else: an acceptance of self.
So here's what happened.
This morning I decided to get up early. I start my vacation tomorrow and I wanted to get things organized at work so that I could then concentrate on 10 blissful days at home. The alarm went off and I gently hit the snooze button for 5 extra minutes. Actually...I jabbed my husband in the side and grunted "Snooze"..but it amounts to the same thing.
That is when I heard "it". You know that gurgly, wet, retching sound that clears your head and makes your eyes snap open as if someone waved smelling salts under your nose? Oh...dear...Lord! I sprung out of bed and dragged the dog with me. We made it to the hard wood floor which was my goal. I patted her head, rubbed her tummy, cooed in her ear and up she threw. No worries...floors are easy to clean. I pampered her until I thought she was better; then left her with strict instructions "not to throw up on the rug if she felt sick again".
Well...the best laid plans of mice and men...I ran to the kitchen, grabbed the paper towels and disinfectant...ran back to the bedroom...and what do I find? Veronica throwing up on my rug. Exactly where I specifically asked her not to! So of course I exclaim "Oh Crap"; which awoken my husband who then exclaims, "Ut Oh"!
Turns out "Ut Oh" translates into "you were too late all along, she threw up on the bed". Luckily on the sheet that I put over the comforter in paranoid preparation for just these occasions...but on the bed no less. Okay...we have it covered; the floor is clean, Jon cleans the rug, I strip the bed, run the sheet and the comforter underneath (just for good measure) downstairs to the washer...ummm...where's Veronica? And what are those wet spots? Oh Holy Mother of God she stepped in her...well her "youknowitstoogrosstoactuallysayit". I have to clean her feet!! Where the hell is she? Oh wait...duh...follow the trail...and while you're at it, clean it as you go.
There she is in her crate...where she has now managed to squeeze out about an extra tablespoon of vomitus on her crate blanket. Grab the dog, wash her feet, wash her face, throw her back on the (now clean) bed, run her crate blanket downstairs for the next wash...breath.
All done. Back on schedule. Get my cereal and head into the office to catch up on the news of the day...or at least the dog forums...What the hell? How and when did she manage to throw up on the rug in the office? Clean the rug, sit down, take a bite of cereal..."HON"?!?! My husband is calling me. "Do we have a blanket for Veronica? She's chilly". Of course he has the day off and has gone back to bed with the dog and knows where all of the blankets in the house are as well as I do...but apparently Veronica also requires a Fur Mommy's touch.
So...I cast one longing look at my cereal, find Veronica a blanket, cover her up, pat her head, kiss her nose, make senseless soothing murmurings...and go back to my cereal...which is now...soggy.
Oh well...there really isn't time to eat now anyway. Just out of curiosity...can someone tell me - in what way is this different than having children?
And THAT is the Tao of the Fur Mommy...definitly NOT an easy row to hoe.