In an attempt to get this little Yorkie dog house trained once and for all, my son & his wife looked up methods of torture for both the dog and me. Since they’ve moved in I haven’t had the house to myself at all. It’s been fine, just that I was looking forward to FINALLY doing some stuff around the house solo. Instead, I’m trapped upstairs pretending I’m not home.
This method is putting him in a small space all day, a little cage. The day before the method was going to be putting him outside in our backyard all day. I volunteered to drive to Salina’s to pick up some fuel tanks for an airplane that day when an email popped up while I was in traffic. The neighborhood email informed us there was a coyote coming down our street. I sat on it for a half hour before I finally decided to do the right thing and call my son to put the dog back in the house.
I know, a whole half hour of wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t seen that email? I called a neighbor to check on him, the thing about this dog is he bites and I didn’t want her to put him in the house if he was going to bite her. My son had to do it, I was too far down the road to turn around.
Now I’m trapped in the house with a barking dog the last few days while they’re at work. The good news is, I’m going to see my other son for a week tomorrow. When I came home the other day, this little Yorkie had peed all over the place again and the dishwasher was broken. I just went upstairs and cried! Today I’m just going to do what I want to do and suck up the barking.
This really isn’t where I thought I’d be at this point of my life. Maybe I should just go back to work? There were 2 incidents last month where guys my age had found their niche to make their marks. One was our friend in Seattle that’s a surf historian. The other one was on 60 minutes cataloging an “ark” with photography. One thing he said was he was 55, soon to be 56 and was about half way done. He wanted to catalog as much as he could because his life clock is ticking.
I wouldn’t think that at 55 my life clock is ticking? But maybe I’m in denial and it really is about seeking that niche before you’re dust (or eaten by a coyote). Something that makes you feel good about this life. I’m a scatter brain, I try so many different things that I’m jack of all trades & master of none. Plus all this internet stuff has given me the attention span of about 2 minutes, if that.
I’ve been writing though, I’ve been playing piano a bunch to at least focus for an hour. My beautiful piano smells like dog pee, I sure hope this dog gets trained!!