Thursday, July 16, 2015

The dog is gone (#6)

Yesterday I had to work very late. 

I arrived home exhausted, depressed, and hungry.  I hadn't slept well the night before and missed my God Time that morning. 

I had a choice, computer or God Time.  I chose God Time. 

Last night I heard #6 cleaning up his backyard, throwing things away.  This morning, I realized the dog is gone. 

He had a brick blocking the gate.  The dog was ripping boards off the gate and coming to visit us. 

A few weeks ago, his wife came out to find Ron and the dog interacting, hard to say who was more delighted.  The dog had broken a board off the gate, from the inside.  Ron was rubbing her tummy and baby talking her (something I had never seen them do, petting, talking to them, or spending more than 2 minutes a day with the poor animal). 

The dog clearly adored him.  Whenever she got out she came over to play with the cats (except Torbie, who hates dogs), interact with us, and lie in our yard, wearing a big doggy grin.  I'm not a big dog lover but I did talk kindly to her. 

He (the father/husband at #6) would get angry and yell at her to come.  She wouldn't, because she didn't know him and liked us better. 

We came with petting and attention.  

I think the last incident was, for him, the final straw.  She barked a lot at night, keeping HIM up too.  I would always remind myself of that as I'd lie in bed "She's keeping him up, too".

I knew he had gotten the dog as an impulse thing.  But no one ever interacted with her.  She was getting pretty good at not barking, but she may have had some other problem behaviors, like chewing, I don't know about. 

All I know: she's gone.  I assume she's in someone's lap, "watching TV", getting her tummy rubbed, and loving the air conditioning (as far as I could tell she was never permitted in the house). 

As far as I see it, this is a huge win for the poor dog.  Hopefully they have "learned" they don't want another dog. 

Frankly, it would have been a lot worse if they'd gotten a cat, because we'd have had constant fighting. 

Anyway, due to the cleanup/whatever, I didn't get to sleep until really late. 

Today was truck day.  I had to move over 40 cases of soda: onto a cart, onto the pickup, onto the carts, into the building/stockroom. 

I also had to buy snack products, including about 100 pastries (for just 2 machines!), stock them, help Ron, load the fridge, try to cram over 50 cases of inventory into a 34 square foot stockroom, while making room for 10 more cases of water arriving tomorrow, etc. 

I did it. 

It wore me out. 

I was really proud of myself: I knew it would be miserable, hot and sweaty work, very dehydrating.  I am at very high risk of low blood sodium, especially in the summer.  I have to consume a lot or I'll get sick. 

This morning, I took 2 salt tablets along with my antidepressant and drank a Gatorade on the way to the warehouse.  This says a little about me, properly medicated: I always buy the clear Gatorade because I spill it on myself. 

Sure enough, I did. 

I was fine.  They didn't have a cart attendant to assist me (for what I paid they should've!), so I had to load the truck, entirely, by myself.  Someone came along at the last minute and threw the last couple cases onboard. 

Thanks, I guess. 

We got to work, I fetched the carts, and unloaded. 

Then all the things I already talked about. 

I was depressed, exhausted, and working very hard.  Ron doesn't receive my depression as "depression".  He sees "angry bitch" and made sure to tell me in great detail as we waited on our ride.  I kept telling him "All I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry" "I am depressed and tired, that is all."  "I am not angry at anyone, including you.".  He just rolled on. 

God will deal with him on that, one day.  [sigh]  It would just be nice if he were more supportive. 

I got home, greeted the cats (at least someone loves me), ate, took my medication, and took a nap.  I had strange dreams but awoke pretty well rested, for me.  Exhausted at a level 4, instead of a 7. 

I did my God time and we went to the mall. 

Ron: "There's not one store, you want to shop?"
Me: "No, but I want to go to the sporting goods store tomorrow". 

I ate some mac and cheese from the italian place.  It is very good, and I have plenty for breakfast. 

Ron ate some Teriyaki and asked me to buy him burritos, which I did.  He will be eating for days. 

I'm still tired, I'm cramping, my muscles hurt, still depressed, but I did it all and thank God I have tomorrow off. 

No comments:

A trip to the hematologist

I slept OK but woke up really tired.  I hit the snooze alarm a few times, much to Biscuit's disgust.  But I'm getting ahead of mys...