The university’s graduation was on Sunday, so I’ve officially survived another year at the job, and my first fully year in the new position. I’m not sure how well I’m doing surviving my non-job life. Sippy has been to the vet twice in the last month, because she’s been coughing again. Josey has been to the vet … I don’t know how many times, because allergies and possible kidney infections, and she’s contemplating another trip due to unexplained barfing. Delicate little princess. There was some concern it could be diabetes, except that unlike Sippy, Josey has not lost any weight. In fact, she’s up a few pounds.
But then hey, so am I. I’m trying out this new psychological effort on myself. Instead of giving myself orders about what I should, need, or ought to do, I’m trying to state what I want. Because I do want to eat better and exercise more. I do want to lose some weight and fit into my summer clothes. Not that I need them just yet, what with it being rainy and 55 yesterday.
My student hourly was marveling at the weather in mid-May and I had to go all old codger on them. Back in my day, they canceled the last day of school field day because of snow. Two years in a row. Nothing like planning to go to school in your shorts and flip flops at the end of May and waking up to a foot of snow. Kansas always has a few tricks up her sleeve.
Luckily, devil dog and fat cat seemed to be in fine health. One of the big changes in our lives is Biggie’s training collar. I spent way too long thinking of electronic collars as “mean,” because I grew up among hunting dogs, and back in the 70s, collars for hunting dogs were not in any way, shape, or form, humane. The new ones are much better, and so my new dog trainer convinced me to try it. It has been amazing.
She still has the occasional meltdown about things. And never anything you can completely predict. Of course, she always hates male joggers, bicycles and skateboards, and white dogs, but she also at random hates old ladies, baby strollers, female joggers, orange cats, trash carts, people carrying cases of beer, and a hundred other things you don’t know she’s going to freak out about until it happens. The nice thing is that she always broadcasts her intent to freak out, and now I can give her a simple vibrating page to let her know that she should not. Now, she frequently obeys this reminder, but not always, and at that point, I do have to deploy the zapper, but honestly, it’s less traumatic for both of us than a pinch chain or a full-on freak out.
You’ll notice that there are two collars, and yes, one is for the pretty pretty princess. She only wears hers at dog park, though, where she is prone to running off and harassing other dogs. The collar works to effectively recall her and tell her “no” more firmly when she won’t leave a dog alone. Proof that she is the proverbial princess and the pea? Biggie’s “zap” function is set on 45. Anything less than that is not persuasive to her when she is in meltdown mode. Josey’s is set on 5. And she jumps like she’s being straight up electrocuted when it goes off.
In other news, I’m languishing waiting for my editorial letter for the real book, so I’m filling time with writing the next smut book. Let me sum it up in four words: Uncle Sam Were-Eagle Sex. I’ll let you know when that baby goes to press.