That Giant Sucking Sound

Is the sound of my week so far.

On Monday, someone left an anonymous letter in my mailbox complaining about Scout barking. Because I am really working on living mindfully and checking in with my body and feeling my emotions as they happen and not stuffing them with food, I noticed almost immediately that, for the most part what I was feeling was pretty freaking pissed off. Not that someone complained about my dog (because let's face it, no one complains more than I do about Scout) but because they chose such a cowardly, unneighborly, mean, unanswerable and chicken-shit method.

Also, I know they have a point.  He does bark too much.  We are really working on it. We try to keep him inside as much as possible and to bring him in as soon as he starts barking.  He's always in by 9:00 at night. We think he's gotten better by influence of the puppy, who is not much of a barker at all and who is smart enough to recognize that if someone has just gone outside and steps back inside the house, that person has probably just forgotten something.  It's not an entirely new person who might be Very Scary.

Anyway, we bought and installed a device that emits a high-pitched shriek when Scout barks and that seemed to deter him for the several weeks during which he cowered in the back room and refused to even go outside.  It seems to have worn off, though. Next, we're going to try one of those citronella bark collars, because even if it doesn't work, maybe it will help with the mosquito problem later in the summer. We will continue to try to train him, to buy expensive gadgets aimed at this addressing this issue, and we are even willing to bring in a dog trainer on a regular basis.

I would have loved to have said all this to the complainer in person so the person would know that we really are trying to do something about Scout, but I won't get that opportunity.  I hate anonymous cowards--I mean, have the courage of your convictions and don't hide behind snarky anonymity. (That first sentence in that letter is snarky, snarky, snarky.)

Then on Tuesday, I went back to my podiatrist to get the results of the latest MRI on my foot.  And the results are.... there are no results.  The MRI didn't pinpoint why I am once again in so much pain.  I mean, y'all, there are days when I CANNOT WALK on that foot.  Clearly something is wrong.  I was kind of hoping for an answer. It just doesn't seem like that much to ask.

And now to Wednesday: I started the day today by exploding Ana's clay creation that I was trying to bake in the oven.  Apparently, we did something wrong because BOOM, the next thing I know I was vacuuming out my oven.  (You do that, too, right?)  The smell was so acrid that Jane burst into tears and I had to open all the windows, thus letting out a bazillion dollars worth of heat.  Because, oh YES we have the heat on even though it is mid-May because it is in the freaking 40's, not that I'm bitter.

Also, today is one of those gray, rainy gross days. I mean, it wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have a zillion errands to run.  In the rain.  Most of them completely fruitless.  To wit: during Edward's latest illness, he peed on my couch.  The good couch, as opposed to the one the puppy has been gradually eating.  I was able to wash the micro-suede couch cushion covers but the foam on the inside was a complete loss.  About two weeks ago, I finally found someone who could re-stuff the covers (most places refused since they weren't actually getting to recover the cushions themselves, which just... I... WHATEVER.  I have stopped taking it personally when people don't want to take my money.  Even when it's for doing next to nothing.  (Okay, I haven't TOTALLY stopped taking it personally.)) I've made two trips over to the store to pick them up and NO CUSHIONS.  The first time the woman didn't call to tell me that the special five inch foam hadn't come in as ordered and just now I went back and the shop was locked up tight with a closed sign on it.

Y'all, this IS New York.  Do you think there is a black market for couch cushion covers?? IS THIS THE WORK OF ORGANIZED CRIME???

Meanwhile, I decided to have this woman also give me a bid on recovering the couch that the puppy keeps nibbling.  I packed everything up into my van (did I mention it is raining?) before I went over there just now. So, now I have one couch that looks like this:

And another one that looks like this:

And house guests coming tomorrow.

The cleaners are here.  Where are they going to put the couch stripes??

You know, maybe Scout barks so much to keep from just hauling off and biting people.  I kind of feel like biting someone.