My first morning wake up in the new place. I rose a bit before five, enjoying my morning coffee as I scrolled my favorite blogs on the internet. Then I glanced out my window and saw this:
I spend a lot of my home time at my desk, or should I say, on my laptop, so I decided to take advantage of those windows to the outside world:
I had coffee on the patio with Swan before she left for her Sunday “me” time.
Lots of questions about what happens next are filling my head, but the rent is paid in full for the next twelve months, so I don’t need to hurry to resolve them.
I went back to the old place and fetched Lucky today. He was sheepish around me but allowed me to leash him up and walk him to his new home. I’m leaving him out in the yard for now until I can decide whether he can be trusted again or forgiven for his transgressions against his master.
I’ll be doing the Hideaway feeding later since I’m home alone anyway. After that, who knows? I reckon it will involve my partaking in some additional San Mig Zeros. Hey, it’s what I do best.
Here’s a chart I came up with to illustrate the likelihood of my giving up the bar life:
And I’m not a whiz in the kitchen, but I’m thinking I could make this low-calorie meal:
And this one struck just a little too close to home:
One day at a time and see what happens next. That’s the mode I’m in. But, I’ve got both feet firmly on the ground so I won’t have far to fall if things go wrong.
I get this feeling I may know you As a lover and a friend. But this voice keeps whispering in my other ear, Tells me I may never see you again. 'Cause I get a peaceful easy feeling. And I know you won't let me down 'Cause I'm already standing I'm already standing Yes, I'm already standing on the ground
Here’s a chart I came up with to illustrate the likelihood of my giving up the bar life:
I guess you’ve made your choices, then. Hey, if the bar life is what you love, then I’m rooting for you. Hit those beers hard. Drink yourself stupid. They’re your brain cells to kill. But you can’t have the life you’ve led up to now and expect to have a deep, fulfilling, committed relationship. Superficiality and depth don’t mix. So you can save yourself a lot of trouble by dropping one or the other now rather than later.
re: hand/arm
Did you see a doctor? I saw no mention of that.
I admit I’m morbidly curious to see what happens next in your ongoing soap opera. For what it’s worth, good luck.
More seriously, good luck as you continue to settle in. I hope you like the new digs.
Please visit the doc.for those wounds…rabies or tetanus are dangerous. Infections too…
1. See doc for dog bites.
2. Dog gets the bootsky.
3. Swan on double secret probation.
Splitting for “me time” on literally the first day is not a real encouraging sign, even if agreed upon.
Sincerely wish you two the best for this new chapter.
Can’t win if ya don’t play.
But gotta know when to quit.
Cheers!
Well, I for one McCrarey, hope you can see it in your heart to give Lucky boy a second chance. I wasn’t there so I don’t know the particulars of the incident except what you posted in a prior blog. Dogs can’t talk so Lucky is unable to tell me his side of the story. Since he bit you, he apparently felt threatened in some way. Maybe he saw the household goods being removed and thought he was being thrown out. Maybe prior to your rescue of Buddy the same moving scenario played out and he wound up homeless. Was he ever aggressive to you in any way before? Take Care.
Oeace Out!
Soju, Lucky didn’t look scared as much as disobedient. It could have been ignorance or apathy–I don’t know, and I don’t care. Seriously though, what bothered me the most was the viciousness of the attack. It wasn’t a leave me alone warning nip; it was a full-on frenzied killer mode. It is scary living with an animal you can’t trust. That said, I let him back inside the house last night, and he’s pretty much acting like nothing happened. I’ll have zero tolerance for future incidents, but for now, his life goes on.
DS, yep, good advice, and some of it I’m actually taking! Got some meds, gave Lucky another chance, and assessing the relationship status day-by-day based on her actions more than her words. So yeah, I’m still in the game for now, win or lose.
BW, taking some antibiotics now. I’ll be fine.
Kev, the chart was intended to be humorous. I’ve been a bargoer literally all my life. Some of my earliest recollections are sitting in a beer joint with my dad (I was drinking cola, of course) while he held court with his bar buddies. I think it is fair to say that the bar life is in my genes. That doesn’t mean it has to be the primary focus of who I am–before I retired, I had a successful career, albeit with the government. So, I know I am able to change my priorities, and I’m willing to do so as circumstances warrant.
I did sorta see a doctor. I got some lunch to go at Sit-n-Bull a couple of hours after the bite. Dave (the owner of Wet Spot) was there eating and couldn’t help but notice my hand. Dave is a retired physician, and he gave me some cleaning/disinfecting suggestions. He asked me to send him a photo of the wounds the following day, and I did. Dave replied that there didn’t appear to be signs of infection but gave me a prescription for some antibiotics (name, dosage, etc.). You don’t actually need a paper prescription to buy most drugs at the pharmacy here. I’m taking those now.
I’m taking a step in a different direction; we’ll see where it leads.
There was a massive study out of Sweden about a decade ago purporting to (I felt) reluctantly prove that the negative effects of persistent long term consumption of alcohol were offset by physical activity, particularly cardio. Heavy walking gigs probably qualify. So if you don’t correlate those pissy looking beers with sitting on your arse all day, you might get away with it for a whiles yet. My problem is the bar food, all that orange breadcrumbed oily anti-sustenance. Bet you love hearing all this criticism aimed at YOUR one life!
Haven’t commented of late because I wanted to bite my tongue about the live-in, love-in drama, which good men can’t make head nor tail of. That plus I can’t get the lame racist-sounding.pun about it being a potential black swan life event out of my head. No racism. But I’d like to amplify other commenters’ apprehensions and add that dogs know things. This one just gave you his opinion on the new set up in brute canine fashion.
Dan, thank you for the feedback.
Yes, I could make some changes for a healthier lifestyle, but at this point, I’d rather enjoy whatever time I have left. I actually don’t eat much bar food, and when I do, it is usually delivered from a nearby restaurant. Still, I suppose those breaded chicken fingers are the “orange” food you despise.
When you wear your heart on your sleeve and then write about it, you open yourself to well-intentioned criticism. I don’t take offense and value the input, even if I don’t always change my behavior. I don’t think Lucky’s bite was intended as a rebuke, he just didn’t understand what was happening and was afraid, so he lashed out. It’s still unforgivable, but he isn’t very bright.