Let me begin by saying that I do not have time to be blogging. Let me also say that I am now back to my old self and my old self always says, “Who cares?” So, there.
I just want to tell you about my weekend. I was sick as a dog. A dog who got hit by a car, probably like a Subaru or something with a bike rack, and then laid on the side of the highway and got all kinds of ditch germs from the other dead animals, litter and the stanky water that is always in ditches (except in the event of droughts. But, this would’ve not been in a drought). And then some vultures came and pecked at me. That’s how I felt. Just like that dog. Or maybe like this mouse I saw one time when I was working at the feed mill. He had gotten into the poison we put out just for dirty little thieves like him but he apparently didn’t eat quite enough to take him out in an efficient manner. So, he was kind of just laying on the cement floor twitching. I felt like him too.
You may be able to tell that I am not the best sick person ever. I’m not tough or brave or valiant. I whine, panic and assume that I will be meeting Jesus any minute. At the beginning of my illnesses, I go into attack mode. I look up every crazy home remedy Google has to offer and then I try them all. And then I get sick anyway. Now, add in a 2 1/2 month old baby and it’s just a big old cluster. Add in a stray pit bull who won’t leave and it’s an all-out disaster.
Saturday we had a family day planned with Spencer’s people in Stillwater. So, he went and took Jack so I could work on recovering. I was not too enthused about this because I am at home all the time with no social interaction. The last thing I wanted to do was sit at home alone and watch TV. Again. But, I didn’t have much choice. To make it even better, the stray pit bull was still here and trying to eat my cat. Now, I am a country girl and all but I am not one who can just go shoot a dog myself. Especially when that dog won’t sit still. haha No, but really.
So, my poor cat was locked in the sun room and Smokey Joe was locked in the house with me. Because I’m scared of stray pit bulls no matter how friendly they seem. It’s not like it was a basset hound or something. This dog could definitely out run/take down any of us if it wanted to. I think I could handle a pissed off basset hound. If I had to. Anyway, so here is the basic summary of my weekend.
102 degree fever. Bad attitude. Terrified cat. Stray dog scratching on my door. A sun room that smells like cat crap. Thankfully, I am better now, the baby nor Spencer got sick and the dog has been safely deposited at the pound. And I think I got all the crap out of my sun room. Sick. I can only expect this week to be better!