Another busy weekend for us.- Installed track lighting in the dining room. - Fertilize plants - Install outdoor thermometer on side of house - Rake leaves - Install new door handles on closet doors. - Cut up old trim around picture window for the trash - Laundry - Soak the tortoise - House cleaning - etc. Any weekend now we should be able to have a nice, relaxed weekend.
Dalla has a mild case of conjunctivitis. We took her to the vet on Saturday after we noticed one of her eyes was red and discharging a small amount of matter. Of course, in the time between making the appointment and going to the appointment, she ate a screw(!) that was part of the track lighting we were installing. The vet prescribed two pieces of bread for screw consumption and a triple anti-biotic for the puppy pink eye.
The following is a brief window into the experiences Sarah and I have as dog owners:> I took Dalla out to go to the bathroom as Sarah was leaving. When we came back in, I made a peanut butter and dog biscuit sandwich. I thought about putting her in her kennel, then and there, but decided she could roam the house a bit more while I surveyed the kingdom. I pushed the peanut butter treat to the back of the counter to prevent treat poaching by a certain furry member of the family and head for the throne.
I sat there, reading my magazine, as I heard all these high-pitched yips coming from the other end of the house. My first thought was that she was looking out the back door at a squirrel on the patio. So, I called to her (with the door closed). I could hear her tags come trotting down the hall. Apparently, the closed door was boring because she quickly turned and trotted away.
A short time passed.
More high-pitched yips could be heard from the other end of the house. I started to worry that Dalla had damaged herself in some way, but not so much that she wasn't still mobile. So, I called to her again. Again, trotting and tag jingling. I stood up and cracked open the door to visually inspect her. She took this as an invitation to come in, so I tell her "No." while I eyeballed her body. No blood. No dangling body parts. Nose still plenty wet and cold. Hmm. All appeared well. Shut the door and go back to my kingdom.
Another short time passes.
High-pitched yipping could again be heard from the other end of the house. I finished my survey, so I opened the door while I brushed my teeth. I hoped that she would hear the door open and come to make sure that I was okay (her usual routine). Nothing. Finished brushing my teeth and proceeded to the other end of the house to determine dog's source of distress.
Dalla was lying on the floor of the kitchen between the refrigerator and the cabinets on the east side of the kitchen. Her tail was wagging madly. Her mouth was slightly open. She was staring intently at the counter-top where her peanut butter treat was located. She yipped because she hadn't gotten her treat yet! I took the treat off the counter, and she ran to the basement door. I opened the basement door and she took the steps to the basement in one big jump. Into her kennel she ran, tail wagging the whole time.
I placed the treat in the dog's kennel and shut the door. She happily starts licking and chewing the treat, all thoughts of yipping forgotten.
I think our dog is addicted to peanut butter.
We saw the movie Better Luck Tomorrow the other night. It was a really interesting movie with deeper characters than most and a very surprising, morally ambiguous ending.