Chill people Just chill

I've spent a lot of time recently just petting the dogs. Rumor is petting a dog can reduce stress. I'm all for reducing stress. I'll just sit there and pet, pet, pet until one or both get sick of it and wander off.

Yesterday as I was getting everyone ready for the drive north, I put some of Orion's Rescue Remedy (a natural anti-anxiety for pets) on a treat and gave it to him.
"Okay Orion, this is so you can chill out on the car ride," I say, dropping the fourth drop on the treat.
"I need some of this for humans..." I mutter.
We load up and off we go.

Today in the Natural Food Store:
"Hi I was wondering if you had any vitamins for stress reduction/anti-anxiety?" I ask the sales lady.
"Actually yes, we have two. This one is for more immediate affects," she says turning to point behind her.
I start laughing.
She looks puzzled.
"I'm sorry, I was JUST telling my dog I needed some of his Rescue Remedy for humans, and they actually MAKE it for humans."
"Oh, I'm sure there's a slight difference."
I'm still smiling.
"Oh, I'm fine even if it doesn't. I'll totally try it."
And off I roll to put my four drops in water and resume my position on the front lawn with the sun pouring down on me, and Chloe at my head. Pet, pet, pet...

Maintenance

Chloe's nose pops up over the rim of the claw foot tub.
"Chloe, it's not going to happen," I say as I eat my piece of pizza while soaking in the tub. Orion's crazily tossing his plastic dice around in the other room so he can capture the bits of kibble that filter out of the hole in the center--my temporary safety net for the household whilst I'm slightly at a disadvantage.
Her ears perk.
"You're never snooping in the bathroom; I know you're just after the pizza."
She nudges the shower curtain.
I am getting sick of this thick dough.
Her little eyes sparkle.
The cute little white dot on the tip of her nose says, "but I'm so cute..."
"Fine."
I hand her the last bite.
"I'm still going to have to treat your tail you know," I say to excuse my temporary softness.
Eventually I climb out of the tub when the little yellow dogs whining implies Orion has finished his dinner and could I please move the chair that blocked the kitchen off so Chloe wouldn't eat my dinner?
I slowly creep up next to Chloe who has positioned herself as usual in front of the fridgerator, bacitracin in hand, and I pet her head while scooping up her half balding tail.
"Here honey, this will help that little cut heal. You and I both are a little banged up this week," I say, brushing the remaining fur over the little bald tip.
"Now don't go licking it off."
I notice Orion is no where near Chloe and I. His head is low, as if he's peeking but hopes I don't see him in the other room.
"Chicken are we?"
I stand up and move towards him.
"I just need to check your ears." I snag his collar and peek inside each ear before patting his head and releasing my grip.
"All clear. No need for cleaning tonight. Not so bad, eh?"
He slinks into his crate and refuses to participate with Chloe and I for the rest of the evening.

Guessing

I opened the door from work and smile down at my yellow dog's happy face. I set my bags on the floor from the first job and assess the room--I kept Orion and Chloe in the kitchen to try to cut down on the elements of destruction.
"Got bored of the order in the recycle bin Orion?" I ask as I look at the newly arranged box, cardboard on the floor papers thrown about. Not too bad.
I step into the kitchen.
Where's Chloe?
"Orion what did you do with Chloe?"
He trots behind me, and we move into the bathroom where Chloe has taken refuge on the one cloth component in the kitchen--the bathmat.
"Hi Old Friend, did you get sick of the who-rah's of the young one and decide to designate the bathroom as your territory?"
She wiggles her tail and starts to get up to greet me.

I return from the second job and open the door, wondering how round two will go.
"Hum."
My backpack is on the floor, the blanket pulled out of it.
The floor is visibly wet.
I'm curious.
Beer glass bottles from the recycling bin are tossed about.
I move closer--those should have been empty.
The can of Ginger Ale that very much was NOT empty until a little yellow dog opted for a drink and opted to quench his thirst by piercing the can.
Sigh.
Well, at least I took the iPad out of the bag before I left.

The boy has been throwing up. It sounds sad. It looks sad. Sadder still when it has some red in it. I frantically call Pam, "Should I be worried?" She tells me what to look for and I feel slightly better, but still worry that something may be cutting his tummy.
"You know I was kidding when I said you have only up to my Apple stock value for what I can do to fix you, I really don't want to see you be sick at all." I give him hugs and he twists between my legs. I am happy to have the evening off. Happy we spent time snuggling this morning even if it did cause me to be nearly late for work.. It was a tough night with him up on and off.

Week down

Sunday: shredded dog bag
Monday: ink jar held strong. Italian dressing on the comforter lost wicked bad
Tuesday: acrylic paints everywhere
Wed: who needed those shoes anyways??

Someone besides myself doesn't like that I work two jobs.

Conversations of an unbalanced life

I push open the door, puzzling over my lack of balance with work and life after another great meeting with librarians, writers and illustrators in the basement of a historic tavern. Orion greets me, tail wagging, his eyes looking tired. I glance around the kitchen for poop piles as he seems to be under the weather as of late and leaving me said presents to remind me both of my lack of balance and his lack of interest in my long hours away.
"Oh what's this Orion?" I ask, pointing to the shredded brown bag on the floor.
"Oh, that's your lunch that you didn't finish this afternoon, that you thought you'd pack again for tomorrow..."
"Yeah? And how did it end up in pieces?"
"Oh, I thought you were so kind for leaving me a peanut butter and honey sandwich. You know how much I love peanut butter and a challenge to get to my food. Plus that chicken broth and rice diet? It's just not cutting it. That's why you left me dessert!"
He wiggles between my legs to get his butt scratched again.
"And that was extra nice that you left me carrots. I do love carrots."
"And, well, I know you mentioned how important peas are too, so I took care of that bag too just in case there were any left... that's in the living room."
Wiggles back through.
"Oh?"
"And well, don't worry, I pulled down enough silverware for Chloe and I because I know how important it is to eat properly. I tossed down some bowls too."
"Did you see the towel I pulled out too, to properly wash our paws?"
"I kind of wish you would've left us some water though... that one bowl wasn't quite the same as the toilet lid left up...."
He's smiling as he goes back and forth between my legs, appreciating his back scratchies.
I move into the living room. See the shredded pea bag.
I move into the bedroom.
"Oh, and Orion, did you just want to remind me how much I love to pick up poop in the house too?" I ask my trailing companion, as I see a pile in the bedroom.
"Well I know how much you want to relax in the evening, and how you are just about done with your paper towel roll. I just wanted to make sure you could use it all before the weekend. Just trying to help is all."
I go back into the kitchen to get the cleaning supplies while the voices in my head combat with my mood: "YOU'RE EXISTENCE IS NOT BALANCED. HE IS ACTING OUT. IF YOU WERE HOME MORE THIS WOULDN'T BE HAPPENING." verses "HE'S SICK. HE ATE A TON OF FOOD TONIGHT. BE PATIENT. THINGS WILL WORK OUT. CATHOLIC GUILT DOES NOTHING FOR YOU. YOU'RE DOING THE BEST YOU CAN. HE WENT FOR A TWO HOUR RUN TODAY. YOU'RE DOING THE BEST YOU CAN."
The light heartedness wins out for tonight. A precarious seesaw, and I kiss the tired boys head and tell him it's okay and we crawl into bed (of course after depositing the stinky poop)

Old Fart

It's dusk and it's the first time in awhile I have this deep happy swelling in my insides. Chloe trots along, little tail flipping left and right, her bald patch not bothered by the flurries twisting in the air. Orion springs ahead, a wound dog wishing to be set free to sprint along the sidewalk rather than patiently stepping one foot in front of the other.  Snow is melting despite the light flakes falling in the air, and I have never been so happy to see mud in my life. I proudly stomp through it, celebrating the sign of spring. I listen to the bustle of downtown traffic and think about how much I miss the ground beneath my feet but how happy I am to be putting down roots in this place, this place where friends invite me to be a part of their community, coffee shop owners tell me when they're going to Aruba so I won't worry when they aren't there to wave to in the morning dog walk...and my apartment with it's purple curtains and wood floors.

We round the corner and Orion's control bursts. Suddenly Chloe and I are in a jog, a run, down the sidewalk... my singing ceases for the moment, as I call ahead, "Orion! I'm sadly too old for this! I'm nearly thirty Orion!" And then I start to giggle. Almost thirty?
"But Mom the night is lovely, and we're out for a walk, how about a nice job instead. Hold tight to those mittens!" I say out loud, as Orion's voice carrying back to Chloe and I... and then I start into song, again, "Here I am a happy yellow dog with my best friend scruffy Chloe, and best friend human Molly and we're walking down the sidewalk..."

It's a wonder the record company hasn't called.

We pass the house with the dinosaur in the garden, and I think of the little boy with blue eyes pretending he was big enough to shovel, telling me about something in his little boy language during Nemo the snow storm, and the parents, with their foreign languages, and the odd baby face in a plastic flower attached to their fence post that scared the bejesus out of me the first time I saw it.

Neighbors.

I love neighbors. And I think of Zachary, my nine-year-old buddy and how I should give him call...and my old friend, who's name's escaping me for the moment, Herb, who use to walk his tiny dog everyday and tell me not to get married...

Boredom

"Hum." I walk in the front door, dragging my six grocery bags in on my dying arm. I plunk them on the floor and look around. It is surprisingly clean in the kitchen. Too clean. The frying pan has disappeared from the stove. The plate as well.
"Liz?" I had left a key for a friend who may have arrived before I made it back from shopping.
No response.
Did someone come in and steal my frying pan?
Orion's following at my feet as I peek in the middle room. I flip the light switch.
"Orion."
Orion cocks his head.
My couch looks as if the recycling bin exploded. There's my strainer, or a piece of my strainer. There's a spaghetti jar, the packaging for the ham that I was going to recycle, the juice box. Pieces. Pieces. Pieces.
"Bored?"
He trots back to the kitchen.
I follow, eyes rolling to the top of my head.
But what about that frying pan....
I look under the table, I look in the bathroom, and then I see it--frying pan and broken ceramic plate, beside the stove.
"Really??!"
I sigh.
I start collecting pieces.
"Honey if you break these and eat them they can cut up your intestines and then you'll be a dead dog. I don't think my Apple stock can cover that kind of repair work. If you have to, stick to the recycle bin okay?"
Chloe wanders in. She sniffs the pile of broken pottery.
"What were you, the driver when the robbery happened?"
She struts back out.