What Annoys Jeff this Week?

1. Numbers. This blog is my own little catharsis and never really intended as clickbait, but sometimes I really do wonder what sorcery is behind the numbers. My view and visitor numbers have been all over the map for the last few weeks. There’s no seeming rhyme or reason for days that are up or down. Posts that I think should be a hit end up idle and those that I thought fairly bland rack up visits. After fourteen years of doing this, you might be tempted to think I’d have a clue. If you thought that, however, you’d be 100% wrong.

2. Incredulity. The number of times in the last six weeks that I’ve been asked some version of “Aren’t you starting to go stir crazy?” is telling… if only because it reveals how many people don’t really “get” me at all. I’ve got books, critters, ready access to food and liquor, the ability to have almost anything on earth delivered to my front door, and can leave at any time for goods and services that need to be sourced locally. I feel no fear of missing out. Staying home isn’t punishment for me. It’s the life I thought I was going to have to wait another 15 years to have for myself… and after sampling it, I can assure you going stir crazy is the very least of my worries.

3. Persistence. Maggie has been quite a trooper, never so much as attempting to lick or scratch her enormous incision. Keeping a certain white and brown young canine sibling from trying to lick it all the time has been my other full-time job this week. Seven days into healing and he’s mostly stopped – though not before a few full-blown screaming fits on my part. I can sense him still searching for an opportunity. I usually appreciate and even respect that kind if persistence, but in this one case, I’m going to need him to knock it the hell off.

The new routine…

We all know I’m a creature of habit and it’s safe to say that having an invalid dog has generated quite a few changes to a schedule that had been popping along happily for the last fifteen months. After three days, I think we finally hit on a new routine that might be manageable, especially tomorrow with me going back to work. The killer is that the two dogs have to be separated to do everything that they use to do together… eating, going out, hanging out in the living room, everything. The problem, of course, is that where feeding the dogs use to be a plural act, it’s now singular, in that I have to feed one dog, take them out, and crate them before repeating the process with the other. A twenty minute morning routine is now something closer to 45 minutes and creeps up towards an hour when it involves breaking out the ice packs. Of course I’ll keep doing it, knowing that the first two weeks of the healing process are the worst and it will get better over time. Even so, I’ll be much happier when I have a pair of dogs again instead of two dogs who just happen to be living in the same house. Until then it looks like I’ll be setting a 4AM alarm to get it done before heading to work. Yeah, tomorrow morning should be a real treat.