I Love My Dogs, But Sometimes I Want To Strangle Them

 I used to be a cat person. I had five cats when I finally decided to get a dog. Remember back around 1998, when Taco Bell had that cute chihuahua in all of its commercials? I think that might be what caused me to want a dog. I got a mini Dachshund, Rose, and fell in love. I not only fell in love with Rosie, I also fell in love with dogs, in genera. I mean, I've always loved dogs, but never wanted to own one.

Skip several dogs forward and I have found myself getting torn up on a regular basis. First, about two years ago I adopted Charlie, a black lab mix. I had forgotten how sharp puppies' teeth and toenails are. Being a large breed dog, I was always getting big scratches on my arms and legs from Charlie trying to jump on me to play. It wasn't so bad in the winter when I could wear sweatpants and avoid most of the scratches but, in the summer I looked like I was being frequently attacked by the scratch monster.

Charlie has grown out of that phase (the sharp teeth and claws) and doesn't want to jump up and scratch me most days. He still does jump sometimes, but never causing the injuries he used to cause.

Charlie has a lot of energy so I decided to find a playmate for him. I had forgotten about the teeth/claw issue until finally found a candidate. Enter Benny, a very mixed breed who looks like he will end up being just a little smaller than Charlie who, at last weigh-in weighed 106 pounds. Benny is a very playful puppy (born approx, Nov.1, 2021) and he loves to jump up on me, which results in the same painful scratches I got from Charlie. To show you exactly what I mean, here is one of most recent scratches. It's getting very warm in central Texas so I've been wearing shorts.

Remember I said that sometimes I want to strangle my dog(s)? This is why. Both pix are of my right leg. (I know you can figure that out on your own, but I wanted to save you some time.)

This is Benny.

In case you're wondering, here is Benny's DNA report.

So you can see that Benny, as I said, is a very mixed breed. 😁 I love him very much. 💜

F*ck Everything!

Yesterday was my birthday. Two people I know wished me a happy birthday - my brother and a former boyfriend. My brother sent me a card and wished me a happy birthday on Facebook, while the former boyfriend was only on Facebook. One stranger on Google+ wished me a happy birthday. I got some birthday acknowledgements from people who want my business or my money, or both. Those don't count. Silk sent me a $1.00 coupon which is actually very much appreciated, since I buy a lot of Silk Soymilk. (I quit buying cow's milk and started buying soy milk mostly because the soy milk lasts much longer in the refrigerator.) My mom has dementia and/or alzheimers (I'm not sure there's a difference), so she doesn't have to remember my birthday, and I don't expect her to. She did, though. She called me two days before my birthday and said she knew I had a birthday but couldn't remember the day. People forgetting my birthday hurts a little, but that's not why I feel the way I do.

There are days when I neglect to take my meds. If I do that two or three (or more) days in a row I get very angry and extremely short-tempered. I don't exactly "forget" to take my meds. I say that I "neglect" to take them, instead. I'll think about it and think that "this isn't really a good time," because it's too close to bedtime or something like that, and I'll skip the meds until it's a better time. But then I'll forget until later, when it's not a good time again. On and on it goes until I've skipped my meds for a few days and I'm ready to start killing cats. I haven't killed any cats as a result of skipping meds, but that's probably an accident.

I have a lot of cats, and they often annoy me to a breaking point. A few of them spray urine everywhere. I've had it on my computer, my coffee maker, up on the kitchen counter, all over walls and cabinets - everywhere - and it makes me want to scream when I am well medicated. When I've been off my meds it makes me want to kill them. Literally.

So I've been off my meds for a few days (took some a couple of hours ago) and it was my birthday and I'm out of money (like every month at this time), and my house is a mess and my yards need to be mowed. So F*uck Everything!

I'm sick of people. I'm really, really sick of people. I've all but given up Facebook for the last couple of weeks. I post things that are important to me and a vast majority of the time they go ignored by people who are my "friends." No they're not. They're "Facebook friends," which is a term that does not mean anywhere near the same thing as "friends," and which needs to be changed. Let's call them "Facebook connections." You can't ask for a favor. You can't ask to borrow money. You wouldn't expect them to help you move. You could pour your heart out to them, but they would only be confused, wondering why you're pouring your heart out to them. Did you possibly confuse them for someone else?

I'm a loner. I've evolved this way mostly by accident, but it suits me. I don't feel there's a person in the world who I'd want to "hang out" with. There's no one around for thousands of miles who shares my thoughts, ideas, definitions, etc. I have had people I've called friends in my past, but the Army always interfered and sent us off in separate directions. And since I retired in 1993, I've had no one I could honestly call a friend. That's okay. I'm not lonely. My dogs and cats (yes, the cats, too) provide me with any companionship I might need, and I don't have to compromise. I'd have to do that with any human companions - compromise. I'm not sure I could. When you reach your 60's and you've been alone for many years, you tend to not want to compromise with anyone about anything. Oh, the little things don't matter, like what to eat for dinner. But when it comes to big things like the color of the house (inside or out) or how many pets to have, I want my way. I guess this is more of a partner issue than a friend issue. Although, if I painted my house moss green and my friend hated it, that could be a problem, depending on how she/he handled her/his opinion.

Enough about my mood. I'll take my meds for the next few days and I'll feel fine. Yay for chemistry!

Sleeping 30+ Hours

I did it. I slept over 30 hours straight. (Well, except for getting up to pee.)

With this "chronic fatigue" that I have been experiencing I keep telling people that I'm sure I could sleep for 24 hours if I didn't have to get up and feed the dogs and cats. Now I know that's true. The dogs and cats had plenty of food and water, and I'm having a three-day weekend, so I decided to sleep the whole first day. I went to bed Saturday night and slept until Monday morning.

I don't recommend it.

It was no problem sleeping. I never once woke up and felt like I'd had enough sleep, so I'd just get up and use the bathroom when I had to and then go back to sleep. That is the essence of this affliction. I never feel like I've gotten enough sleep.

I got up at 9:00 Monday morning and I felt lousy. I suppose it was the lack of food and water, mainly. I felt like I was only about 75% there. It took some time before I felt normal. About four or five hours. I ate, drank, watched TV, got on the computer. Now it's just about 3:00 p.m. and I feel fine. I've just had an energy shot ("5-hour energy" shot) and I'm going to go out in a minute and mow the lawn.

Incidently, I could have slept longer.
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