Day Three: Doggie Departure
Yeah, they're cute. So what?
I took our foster dog, Rosette, (above, left) back down to L.A. today, and we have returned to our status as a one man, one woman, one kid, one dog, one tortoise (creatures not sorted in order of importance) family unit.
About five minutes ago Cookie (above, right) expressed her feelings about Rosette's departure by piddling on the floor at the foot of our bed, under which she is now cowering. I understand, she has no idea why her sister is gone and she's upset, so of course I didn't whack her or anything. I just said BAD DOG and now I hear her sighing beneath me.
Some people thrive on the chaos of a large family, as Melissa once pointed out, and some of us need not to be needed so much, we function better when things are pared down. It's a choice between being productive and happy in a sane, controllable environment or just letting go and responding gaily to whatever gets thrown at you.
I've picked up about eight pounds of dog shit in the last three days, and granted, it wasn't thrown at me (though I had to do some bobbing and weaving through Double Dog Diarrhea Week), but seriously, I've got enough shit to deal with in my life. I'm still trying to do NaNoWriMo, for heaven's sake.
*This is where you think about buying another t-shirt from me. Would it help if I made one with a dog on it?
I know the comments were running about 100 to 1 in favor of keeping Rosette and so I hope the Internets will forgive me -- just this once -- for not doing what they told me to do.