“Remoted” – Day 472 (Thursday)

The week has been going by relatively quickly, and it hasn’t been especially arduous, but dang, it has been tiring. Maybe it was the several days of heat and then the storm last night with the rumbling thunder that I first thought was noise from the new neighbors moving in but then the vivid lightning and rain clued me in to the true source of the sound. Miraculously, Moose slept through it.

Moose loves his
fancy plain food.

Moose is still loving his new “plain food” diet. The chef, meanwhile, keeps running low on ingredients. The vet specified “frozen peas and carrots” but that bag has been burned through and now it’s on to the remainder of the mixed vegetables and picking out the green beans and corn, leaving the required peas and carrots. There is one four-serving can left of the pricey prescription food which can fill in for 1.3 days with the looming chicken and potato shortage, and it looks like Saturday is going to require more shopping and chopping of chicken and potato. At least it won’t be in million degree heat this time. 

At 7:14 this evening, fatigue hit like a hammer. It was decided to have a tiny nap, so I paused the documentary that was playing (Sophie: A Murder in West Cork), curled up in a ball on the couch, and closed my eyes “for a minute.”

As if summoned by a magic spell, Moose suddenly and silently appeared next to the couch. Then, he began barking. It was loud. It was shrill. It sounded urgent. I unfolded myself, got up, and was herded by my Canine Overlord to the kitchen door so he could be let out. Once down the stairs, he walked another few paces, turned to face me, lifted his right rear leg and peed against the house foundation. When done, he set his right rear foot into the fresh pee puddle and headed towards the door, leaving a trail of one wet paw print behind him on the driveway, which was lighter with each step. This is how he pees 99% of the time, stepping in his own puddle, and leaving a telltale trail that fades as he gets closer to the house.

Back in the living room, the time was now 7:17 and I was yawning. Moose sprawled in one of the dog beds and immediately went to sleep. For a split second, I considered barking at him to get him up, because, payback. But that’s just mean and petty and a dose of guilt was immediately delivered for thinking it. He’s still my most loyal and steadfast buddy and it’s not his fault he is old, unwell, cranky, and very often a royal pain in the butt. 

In the end I didn’t bug him, and I also didn’t “lay down for just one minute.” The decision was made to go to bed early. Odds are pretty good that at bedtime, I’ll suddenly be wide awake and spend an hour waiting to fall asleep. That’s how it usually goes.