Saturday

I took my significant other to the air port  today, for what will be a separation of approximately three months. While for some, this would be a gift, for me it has been a difficult day for transition. I thankfully have occupied the preceding hours of the day with the needs of our dogs. They have been a glad distraction.

This post isn't going to be a complete one. This is just a quick notation of thoughts I've had today:

No matter how much I sweep and mop and launder, I wage a losing war with dirt, twigs, and rocks.

All the bleach in the world won't keep my floors paw-print free.

A queen-sized bed isn't big enough to share with a 115lb Rottweiler and a little German shepherd when they decide they need to smother me.

They gang up on me. Often. Even when there is no food involved.

One of them will take their pills. The other will fake it like a person trying to escape a mental health facility in a 60's-style movie, a la Girl, Interrupted. And I will find them in the bedding. (My bedding. Not her's.)

If one of them is chewing on a bone, and the other is chewing on a plushie, one of them will try to steal the other's toy. Worse than toddlers.

All the cuddles and pats, kisses, wags, and woofs won't make today good, but they will make it more bearable.