ambush

I was not expecting today to be such a bad day. I took boris to the beach. I sang some songs, and even sang one of our songs - and that was the start. The last line of said song is "I love you, til I die," which now I sing a little differently. Bam. Okay. Pulling it together. Then on our way back home, I noticed boris' usual limp was a lot worse. Really a lot worse. I made myself leave the house, telling myself I was worrying too much. I'd planned for a morning of being Out In the World. Normal things.

Eh. I don't even want to write this. Today has been a shit day of multiple ambushes, all while trying to be out of the house for once, somewhere other than work. Hard not to think - man, see what happens when I try to be normal? Back home, I see Boris is in pain today, he's whimpering when he moves, and he's stuck close to me. I made an appointment to see the vet tomorrow, likely for x-rays and discussions of surgery. I need to go to work soon, and am forcing myself to not call and cancel. I was not expecting such an ambush filled day.

That's all. Venting the ambush. Think good thoughts for the dog and me.


~ an addendum: Feeling a little better now. I can't believe the number of drowning references the world packs into just under an hour, in one place, in one morning. That and well-meaning but oblivious acquaintances wanting details of "how I am"... not realizing that my "fine, thanks," coupled with turning my head away from them and back to the newspaper means "I am done talking." The non-response and tear-filling eyes should really be a clear signal. I'm thinking I might bring a fly swatter and ear plugs next time. That should help with "being normal."

And on the dog front, reminding myself that boris is injured, not sick, helps too. One moment at a time - get through the vet appointment and go from there.

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