“Remoted” Day 351 (Tuesday)

During the recent couple weeks of medical adventuring, trips were required to CVS to pick up prescriptions. While pulling into the parking lot on one visit, there was a tall, thin man in the parking lot, in the middle of the travel lane. He wore a winter coat and knit hat and was balanced and steady as he gracefully and perfectly executed a Tai Chi routine. Drivers entering and leaving the parking lot swerved around him as he quietly did his thing amid the chaos he was at least partially responsible for.

Tai Chi Guy reminded me a little of Karate Guy, a staple on Boot Hill in Clarksville. For several years until I moved across town, I would pass Karate Guy on my daily travels to and from New Providence as he did Karate moves on the side of the road. Depending upon the time of day, traffic either whizzed past or crawled. Like Tai Chi Guy, Karate Guy was in his own private world amid the bustle of his surroundings. Clarksville Karate Guy was frenetic and angry and often yelling swears, while Lowell Tai Chi Guy was calm, composed, and quiet, and unbothered by the flow of traffic he was interrupting.

Winston wonders if there are cookies.
Moose wonders when Winston
will get out of his just washed bed.

This morning, while I was dressing, Moose was sick on the bedroom carpet. Later, as I sat with a cup of coffee in the living room before work, he was sick on the couch. Over the next couple hours, he was also sick in his bed and on the kitchen floor. Somehow, through mopping up the multiple messes and laundering the couch cover and then the doggy bed, I managed to channel Tai Chi Guy and remain calm and balanced. 

There have been times in my life, especially in Clarksville, when I would have totally snapped off and been more like Karate Guy, yelling at everything and nothing, hitting the air, alone in the world that was my house. 

Through all the morning bustle with Moose, Winston self-quarantined in the living room. Actually, he almost always stays in the living room by himself while Moose stays in the office with me. Winston appears at key cookie moments like when Moose comes in from a potty trip.

It's become apparent there is not much point in my yelling. It would just scare the dogs, and then I would be trying to calm them and convince them that despite the outburst, I'm not insane. And it wasn’t like Moose was emptying his stomach every 45 minutes because it was fun. Me yelling "no" or anything else would not help in any way. The mess would still be there, and we would both be stressed. He was  already shaking and looked pathetic each time it happened.