Fourth night in a row. Unable to sleep. Fell asleep about 12:30, woke up at 2:03 with neck pain, again. Back as stiff as a board, head is throbbing. Weird dreams as usual. Too much stress I guess. Well, too much stress and an injured neck and back. Shuffling mom from place to place last few days, making more end of life arrangements. We learned that after dad died in October. Get stuff in order. Have a will more current than 1974. Put your daughter on your accounts so your body doesn't have to lie in the mortuary waiting for her to come up with the cash to cremate you. We try to make it as humorous as possible, joking with the people we deal with, making them squirm at death. But as a daughter, it's exhausting, praying your 81 year-old mother will never die. Add to that a bunch of teenagers calling me at all hours now that their emails are blocked. I am their new play toy. Thank God teenagers have attention spans of gnats. They'll soon find another, but for now, the ringing.
As I wander around the house, Trixie follows me. She begins to eat from her bowl. This in itself is a small miracle. Some people have children that are picky eaters. Hell, some people have husbands!! I have a dog that's a picky eater. Normally I feed her chicken livers, vegetables and rice, but after being unemployed for almost three months, I resorted to a canned food she liked as a baby that I could by for $8 a case. First couple of cans, loved it. Then a hunger strike. The campaign has been waged for almost a week now. She's relentless. "I shall not eat this vile food".
This afternoon I went to the WalMart superstore and bought four containers of chicken liver. I put one container in a crock pot with three cans of dog food, a can of vegetables, rice, garlic, water and a chicken broth cube. It worked. I tricked her. Well, not really I guess, I just managed to get her to eat mostly dog food with a little liver shoved in for good measure. I feel successful, so the blinding headache is almost worth waking up for.
She has me in her pocket, this dog of mine. I am her slave.
As I write this, I hear through an open window a helicopter and a cop making announcements over the p.a. system. "You - at the school, the dogs have been released. You WILL be found." Figures. Which school? The little Christian one a block down, or the other several blocks away? In this sleepy little suburb I just bought a house in? This quaint little neighborhood?
I close and lock the window. I reach in the cabinet for my gun knowing that I'm going to try to go back to sleep tonight...and now it really won't happen.
Welcome to my days. It gets funnier, trust me. My head is hurting too much now to make this witty. But I shall, I promise you, I shall.