“Word.” I said.
The financial guy had asked for a cost center clarified.
“Word to your mother.” Said another coworker.
“Word to my mother? What does that mean? What does my mother have to do with anything?” Said the finance guy, our CFO, at work.
I sighed. “You’re not even remote hip, are you?”
“How could you tell?” The finance guy asked.
I am thankful that I remembered to take allergy medicine this morning. It should make a for a smoother day.
At least, in terms of my head.
I am not exactly sure which dog it was but I woke up to puke in my bed on Tuesday morning.
Doing laundry while it is still dark outside is, in fact, a dream come true.
We have our last dog training class tonight.
I do not want to talk about it.
Vacation starts in less than 48-hours.
That, I am willing to talk about.
I just have survive work, pack, get house ready to leave, pack up the dog stuff, finish the laundry, and so on and so on.
But did I mention I am going on vacation?
I just tried to give blood.
I got rejected by the Red Cross. Couldn’t give blood. They could not find a good vein.
Yet another rejection in a life of rejection…
Don’t worry… My house is protected by Superdog and his faithful and trusted companion, Superpuppy.
They are always on Guard duty.
Saturday morning started with a walk in the park. It went downhill from there, when I had to find some plant leaves to wipe the poop off of my dog’s rear.
Thankfully, I found some cabbage growing in the wild.
My did not seem to care that this was not in our plans.
I took my mother, The Diva, out to dinner on Saturday afternoon, to take some of the pressure off of Sunday’s Mother’s Day, when I was slated to be her indentured servant for the day.
Sunday, after lunch, the servant-status began. There was screens to put in. Some hammering to be done. Pictures to hang. Adoring of The Diva.
It was exhausting.
I kid – it really was not that bad. And The Diva, who has a whole closet dedicated to purses, was happy with her new purse and wallet I got her.
The downside of the day was that there was this weird combination of snow and hail.
It is very disappointing.
We are off on vacation next week – to the ocean. I hope the cold weather and rain does not follow. I have big plans that involve sunshine and warm weather.
Nothing came of the dog class guy after this week.
Well, other than the continuing self-embarrassing machine was in full force.
First, as we were waiting outside for the class to start and we were chatting. Our dogs were being good – as good as dog in need of a dog-training class could be.
And then, I see him looking down at my feet. He notices I have noticed and he looks at my face. “I think,” he said, “your dog is eating rabbit poop.”
I look down, horrified.
Damn it. My dog was laying at my feet, I guess having a snack.
But, sigh, you’ve met me.
So later, in class, we were working with the dogs on ‘waiting.’ As part of the training, the instructor tells us to practice on one of the doors leading outside, commanding the dog to wait was we open it and to sit until we let them it ok to come with us.
Teddy and I go to a door on the side of the room. We practice a bit but he finally gets it. He gets to come all the way outside with me. The steel door closes with a heavy thud.
And, I turn around to go inside, to repeat the trick and the door won’t open. I pull harder, turn the knob tighter. No such luck. No one else is outside. I have freakin’ locked myself outside. Teddy, my sweet dog, is pretty much obviously to the trauma. He is happy for the opportunity to pee on the outside of the building.
I try other doors close by. Nothing. They are all locked as well.
So we have to walk around to the front door and walk into the open building. Everyone else and their dogs are now sitting in a circle, learning about the next step. We open the door with a thud, of course, and everyone looks up at us.
“Pay no attention to us.” I say. “We just somehow locked ourselves out of our door.”
No one even cracks a smile. Clearly they know that Teddy and I both belong in a class for slower dogs and/or owners.
And that was that.
I hesitated to write anything about the news story happening here in Cleveland as it is so close to home.
It is home, in a weird way, even if it is miles and miles away.
And I am no reporter, by any means. But, I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Everyone is talking about. No one can turn off the TV.
It is not just the many, many miles, city block after city block, but the landmarks, mostly emotional, that so many people have.
Everyone that ever watched the local news and saw the mothers of the missing pleading for answers and, over time, to not let their daughters be forgotten.
It is that my friend, Natalie, and her family live around the corner from where one of the girls was last seen. We’d drive by the intersection and note that the fliers for the missing were still up on the telephone poles on the street corner nearly a decade later.
It is that a boy from school grew up to be a postal worker. His daily route included the house the woman were kept in.
It’s that my neighbor’s daughter was a classmate of one of the girls before she moved next-door. They even had the same birthday and had joint classroom birthday parties as small children.
I never knew this until last night, as we were both taking the trash cans to the curb for garbage night.
It’s such a routine thing.
My neighbor asked if I had seen the local news. Her daughter had called her crying, so happy with the news. I was stunned when she shared this.
It seemed so ‘small town’ to know someone who knew someone.
No one can even imagine the horror of the years, how slow time must have passed within those walls. And here we are, rolling our giant plastic garbage cans to the tree lawn, like we had for weeks and years before every Monday night.
The national and international media has exploded. Back when Hurricane Sandy hit, we watched from the office window the caravans of power company trucks pass on the highway, headed East.
Today, we watched the news trucks with their massive satellites pass us.
We are home from our doggy walk for cancer. Thats right – the dogs and i took place in a walk for cancer today.
Bark for Life.
For the American Cancer Society.
The dogs did really good. They are exhausted from the event. They did not growl at other dogs and they let other people pet them.
I could not ask for more.
We usually walk so much further than the mile required. i can only assume that it must have been all the excitement that as worn them out.
So many dogs. So many people!
They both laid down on the homestretch of the forth lap of the mile-long walk in the grass and I had to pull them along to the finish line.
Poor boys- they have a rough life.
But we had fun. We ventured outside of our comfort zone. For a good cause at that.
Again… This text message from my mother begs the question of why didn’t I leave town like my brothers did?