Sick in bed, eating blueberries, drinking tea with honey, sage & thyme, downing cinnamon, turmeric and oregano oil supplements, and spritzing throat with homeopathic zinc spray. Hubby just brought me Cup Noodles (could have sworn there was an ‘o in the brand name, perhaps Nissin brand doesn’t use the ‘o). Yes, I know that the ramen noodles are not particularly healthy, but it’s quick and hits the spot when you have a cold. Once I finish the blueberries, I have a couple of tangerines waiting. My neighbors’ tree fruits abundantly.
Dogs are barking. Thumper had a growth removed on Thursday. He mustn’t jump up and down for it pulls at his stitches. Hope that the laboratory results for the growth come back negative (benign). He and Coco were working on removing the tumor themselves, something they do not do with fatty growths or sebaceous cysts. The growth was bleeding and angry looking. Thumper would scratch it and Coco would lick it.
Now Thumper is wearing my NAMI Walks tee shirt to keep Coco from licking his sutures. Since Thumper has done some running about, the shirt now has blood stains. Need to keep my big boy (he’s a huge labradoodle) from running, jumping and playing with his smaller younger playmate Coco. Together they get worked up protecting our home from any and all possible trespassers, human and animal. They spend the day barking at the neighbor’s dogs, pacing back and forth, and jumping up and down at the fence line dividing our yards. Coco jumps so high that he gets 3/4 of his body above the 5′ fence to see his two canine antagonists on the other side.
I am ambivalent about posting these dog photos. Although I love my dogs, I am still suffering from PTSD from an incident in which I could not control them, and they viciously attacked a greyhound who had just been attacked by another standard poodle the previous week. I took full responsibility for the attack and paid the poor dog’s veterinary bill. Still, I fear walking Thumper (the big guy). He’s too big and I cannot control him.
Interesting metaphor just occurred to me, piggybacking an interpretation offered by my psychologist Friday when I described my fear of violent and agitated men (specifically, agitated and violent seriously mentally ill men). She asked if I may fear that part of me that rages, that goes to that red zone where my rational mind cannot control my behavior. Yes. Yes, I do fear that part of me, and regret the damage done to those I love when I rage.
Evidence of the Crime
Okay, so I just got back from a lovely birthday dinner out with my husband and son. What did I find on the floor of the kitchen upon our return? My birthday box of See’s chocolates! One or both of our dogs (not sure if it was a solo job or a conspiracy) had taken the box from the counter and eaten ALL the dark chocolate and coconut candies. I hadn’t even tried one yet. The dark chocolate walnut clusters and the dark chocolate covered marzipan were left untouched. Thumper tried licking the floor clean of all traces of chocolate even after we returned and reclaimed the box. Not sure if that absolves Coco of blame, for he is the more wily of the two. He knows to act nonchalant as if completely unaware that a crime had taken place.