It was a lousy night. Apparently I was wrong when I wrote down that I thought I’d be able to sleep last night, ‘cause I couldn’t! I had like a million dreams in half-sleep, so many of them, in fact. I can’t even begin to distinguish the one from the other, and the fact that I totally skipped over the required REM hours, doesn’t help one bit.
By the time my alarm beeps that annoying little whine of a sound, I feel as if I’ve just barely drifted off and seriously consider smashing the darn evil device into smithereens.
Of course I don’t. I’m a little thrifty that way, and don’t like wasting something that’ll cost money to replace, on a temper tantrum. The temptation is very big, however.
What with the busy schedule ahead, I have no choice but to drag myself from the bed and move around like an old hag until the kinks plop out of my spine. For some reason each spinal column decides to misalign when sleep is illusive, not making things any more pleasant as I stumble through the morning rituals, knowing full well that today I will not be able to do my exercises at all. It isn’t beneficial to my mood at all, to say the least.
The dogs howl and bark too loud for my ears. The occasional clawed stump in either my legs or butt annoy me, and making my way down the uneven path seems tricky at best as I head towards the house and forgo all the usual chores because I know that I’ll be needing every minute I can gain during this pressing day.
For a while big brother and I work on the vampire project; with me reading out loud from my computer –my voice a little too husky what with the tickle in my throat– while he reads along on his. It’s a good technique, allowing for instant changes that will read and sound well at the same time, but it is also time-consuming. The session passes so quickly that my head whirls by the time we shut the computer down and clear up the kitchen table in preparation to our departure.
It is on days such as these that I wish we could just let it all stand, ready and waiting for our return, but of course we can’t. It is simply not possible what with more than ninety dogs eager to pounce on anything they can destroy within a moment’s time. Electrical wires need to be stuffed away, Internet connections hung high and computers safely stored in places where the pack can not reach it, no matter how hard they try: And try they will… mostly when I least expect it.
Which brings up an interesting subject: What do you give up or change in order to share your life with a large pack of dogs?
I’ve heard this question on occasion, and due to those I have made a bit of list on the topic.
Curtains: Unless they’re made of Teflon, be prepared to look at torn seams and big holes for as long as they are up. Luckily I don’t like curtains in the first place, so for me that really isn’t a problem, but it makes for interesting sights on the most part. Whether teeth or busy bodies getting stuck in them, they will destroy just about anything in little time. Very few curtains actually make it through a year.
Expensive furniture: One can try, of course, but at some point there’ll be a bite in wood, a dent in metal and tears in fabrics. It is inevitable no matter how well the beasts are watched; one minute is really all it takes.
Extension cords: Hang ‘m high and keep ‘m there. For some reason they’re considered as some sort of snack, ‘cause the dogs will grab them, play with them, (loose or plugged, there’s no difference) chew on them and then by the time it is completely useless leave it lying somewhere.
Wooden utensils/plastic too: Especially the kitchen variety of these nifty little things called ladles, spoons, forks and knives. Unless they’re made of solid steel, silver or any other metal, be prepared to buy lots of ‘m. The metals will disappear too, but every once in a while you’ll find some remote spot in the house where the entire “silver” collection can be reacquired. Good days.
Blankets: Again, try to get Teflon… though I’m thinking that some nifty dog might actually manage to chew through even that with enough time and perseverance–of which they possess a s**tload. Even when they don’t chew through it, their sturdy nails will dig through it at one time or other.
Pillows: In all honesty I’ve given up on any other than those I use to sleep on. The temptation is just too big. It’s a toy, plain and simple: Something to drag along for comfortable snoozing, whether that is in mud or on dry ground. It is most definitely wonderful to tear up in case they get bored. “Feathers are soooo pretty when they’re floating through the room, but bits of foam will do in a pinch.”
Leather: Whether in furniture or clothes. Unless you’re prepared to sit on/dress in said furniture/outfit 24/7/365, and never close your eyes or get distracted for even a second, it’s not the best of choices. There really is little more in this world that is more tempting to a bunch of rowdy dogs than a wonderfully comfortable arm chair made of gorgeous smooth leather.
Knickknacks: They’re fantastic, but unless you’re prepared to place it at, at least, chest height, they’re really just bite-sized chew toys, or make a wonderful smashing sound when they land on the hard floor.
House Plants: I love them. Really, I do! They’re beautiful and they will cozy up a room, always. But… no matter how well they’re guarded, at some point some nifty dog will find his way up a chair, the table or even a cabinet and will have a real live party in the wonderfully tasty soil that you’ve kept at a perfect moistness from the day the plant of choice was added to the room.
Eating: It is all a matter of speed and dexterity. Though the dogs have a pretty good idea which food is specified for a particular species, they are geniuses in getting their treats. Cheese, bread, butter in a tub, tomatoes, apples, you name it. Yum.
A barking dog behind your back will draw your attention for a split second, allowing the second, third or fourth canine to slip his head right under the arm you’ve protectively wedged in front of your sandwich, and, calm as you please, swallow it whole in the mere second it takes you to turn your head back.
Then, while you’re trying to decide which thief you want to strangle, there are ten eager faces staring up at you with those innocent expressions that make it unable to identify the culprit.
As for a nice sit-down dinner… it’s doable, if every single seat is taken or put away while you acquire some canine tendencies and protect your plate like a rabid dog.
Books: Now this is a matter close to my heart, especially since I have lost a multitude of books during the course of the years since we started taking in dogs. They are my most prized possessions, but the only way to actually keep them, and display them the way I like, is to have high shelves, preferably well above hip-level with shelves that are no higher than the books themselves. The dogs LOVE books for some peculiar reason.
You learn really fast not to put a book down “for just a minute” while you run to the bathroom or get a snack, for nine times out of ten you’ll return to find some delighted dog rolling around in torn, drooled upon, and wadded up paper.
Shoes: Get a full-proof, unbreakable, bank vault. Don’t make the mistake of just wandering through it with the door open while you’re convinced that the dogs are locked out of your bedroom, ‘cause in all likelihood you’ll have missed one or two hiding somewhere in a dark corner, just waiting to pounce on boot and sneaker alike.
Never, and I mean NEVER EVER step out of your shoes and let them stand on the floor for even a minute. Take you eyes off it to grab your house slipper from the closet and those beloved leather loafers are history.
Clothes: Keep it simple and dark: Endurable fabrics that won’t tear, or look so messy to begin with that no one will notice the difference if there’s an extra tear or smudge somewhere. Wanna dress fancy? Wait until the last possible minute to slip into the outfit and run! Run fast, and slam the car door behind you while you turn the ignition and tear out of the yard.
Now, none of the abovementioned “highlights” mean that our dogs are misbehaving pests. Not all. Separately they behave just as well as any well-bred and perfectly raised pooch. It’s the numbers that do the trick. It’s the same as with humans, I’m thinking. Put enough of them together and there’s bound to be mischief. Hah.
To give a proper counterweight to all the things I wrote down, here are some definite pros for living with a huge pack of animals:
Loneliness: It is never really an issue. You always have one or more living creatures to yap to. You don’t have to make sense, you can do it any language you like, and just have an attentive audience as long as you’re willing to disperse your petting freely and liberally.
Home security: Seriously, no alarm system can beat the ears, eyes, noses and general protective instincts of a ninety plus pack. I swear that on some days they can hear a frog fart at a two-mile distance.
Personal Safety: I pity the one who tries to harm any of the humans walking around here, I really do. Any intruder trying it is bound to be ripped to pieces if we’re not there to actually protect this unfortunate daredevil… if we would be so inclined, naturally. If we’re friendly so are the dogs… on the most part, anyway… but toss in an unfamiliar presence/scent without warning…Ouch.
Loyalty: Any and all of these dogs will literally give their lives for my family and I. Their loyalty never fails and nor do they judge in any way. They will comfort me when I cry, bounce around in excitement when I’ve got good news, and generally stick to their master of choice until the end of days… if at all possible.
Anti-depression: No matter how bad a state of mind, a pack such as this won’t ever let you wallow in it. They need to be fed, cared for and petted on a daily basis, come hell or high water. No exceptions, no excuses. They will cajole, beg and nag until you have no choice but to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and get crackin’.
Love: They will and so will you, no matter how frustration, exhausting, heartbreaking and even bruising they can be at times. Loving these beautiful, funny and affectionate creatures, you will… whether you intended to or not.
Well, I got totally off track again, but who cares? Where was I? Oh yes…
Today is scheduled to include our weekly lessons in town, through which we will have to hurry if we still want to visit with Clue afterwards. So, I need to rush through taking a shower, getting dressed in semi-neatness, and then read through our lesson material some more so that when I’m behind the test computers I will be able to actually supply the right answers.
I’m feeling particularly frazzled by the time we hurry to the car and depart for town just barely following the regulations of traffic just to get there at a decent time.
We arrive at the school right around dusk, and both big brother and I are annoyed at the fact that tonight appears to be a busy night again; leaving on three of the sixteen computers from which we can choose.
For the next hour and a half we go through the test, over and over again, luckily getting more of them right than wrong on this day when other students are constantly distracting me from my lesson material.
Keeping a weary eye on our watches, we wrap up our lessons well before we usually do. Saying quick goodbyes to the teacher now that we have to speed to the other side of the mountain where Clue awaits us at the hospital.
Upon arrival, the Vet informs us that our beautiful pointer is improving, and we see the proof of that as we open the cage and he steps out trying to jump against us in a joyful greeting. He does look much better. Even with the square patch of shaved skin, and the dark blue catheter dangling, his fur is gleaming and his eyes are alert as we take him out for a short walk.
He walks a straight path to a side street, spending a good two minutes to empty his obviously overfull bladder before making a beeline for the car and looking around suspiciously.
I can almost hear him think, “Hey, boss. No one’s watching. We can make good on our escape without anyone being the wiser.” Poor thing. It gets harder every day to leave him in his cage, but what with him not having regained his full strength yet, and the catheter still dangling from the hole in his side, we agree that letting him stay a bit longer is really the best thing for his general state of health. The pack is not always tolerant of members who aren’t up to their full strength.
With Clue making a howling racket in his cage, big brother and I leave and head home.
For some reason no one really feels like cooking these days, and with some tomato soup leftovers to fill our stomachs, big brother and I set up our computers once more, and resume with the story.
Focus is not easy to come by today for some peculiar reason. I barely manage to hack my way trough three and a half pages, during which the lead protagonists go “all the way” at last. There are some snorts as the details get typed down, debates about which way to go about it, bouncing back and forth until I’m finally done and decide to leave the remainder of the details for tomorrow.
Only a few more pages to write yet and so many more scenes to put in: It does seem like a daunting task at times, but mostly I feel up to the challenge.
By the time midnight has passed, and the last sentence for the night is written, I wrap things up and head for my cabin with my eager pack storming up the steep incline.
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