He’s still just a dog in a cage.
I love this photo of The Super Duper Cooper Pooper Puppy. It’s from a simpler time. May 2010, BF.
That’s “Before Fleas.” Before my dog cowered in fear at the mention of the word “shower.” Before I lost enough money in flea elimination products to finance a small business. I am happy to report, however, that the last attack seems to have done the trick, and The Great Flea War may, in fact, be over.
I really do love this photo though. I’m proud of it. Rarely do I find that sepia is the way to go for photos… in fact, Kelly and I were just talking about this a week or so ago… but for this picture of my poor, gated-in little monster, it seems to be right.
The photo doesn’t really have much relevance to my current state of mind, but I read somewhere that showing people a cute puppy before filibustering about testing purgatory and murderous impulses makes them less likely to slash their wrists, curl up in the corner and suck their thumbs, or run screaming, never to return.
Maybe that’s me. Looking at a cute picture of a puppy always makes me feel somewhat better. It even curbs the murderous impulses a bit. So deal with it or go away.
Tonight, Coop and I had a play date outside with Casper, Copper, and Dylan, and their mommies, Jenny and Una. I’ll try to take some pictures next time, but this meeting was impromptu and I found myself without a camera. We’re starting to have a nice little community of doggy free-rangers here, and I love that. And I’m making friends.
It’s weird, this liking people thing.
Cooper had a blast, and is completely passed out on the floor next to me. I, however, am considering making an emergency run to an all-night drug store to buy some benadryl. And baking soda. Why?
I sat in the grass.
I’m allergic to grass.
Now I itch.
I know better, I really do. But it was mostly worth it. Poor puppy needs to get out and be with others of his own kind on occasion. Anyone who spends that much time trapped with me deserves a break.
Did I just refer to my dog as an anyone? I think I need help.
But wait, you say. Don’t you have exams? Didn’t you just make a post about how you were going to be a shut-in, doing nothing but slaving over your sociology book for the next four days? How, you ask, did you manage to find time to PLAY with your dog?
Funny story, that. Brings me to the murderous impulses.
Among other things that have happened in the last 28 hours (remind me to tell you about the Displaced Ducks tomorrow), I went to take the first of the Sociology exams today only to find out that – SHOCKER – they hadn’t actually been sent in after all. At which point, I had a minor hissy-fit. See, these exams are due on Monday. Today is Wednesday. I have four of them to take. I’ve been trying to take the second one since mid-June… but my professor can’t seem to get them sent in. To top it all off, the Office for Students with Disabilities (OSD) told me about a week ago that the exams had been sent in. They were, obviously, wrong.
I know that it isn’t intentional, but the people at OSD can’t seem to give me a clear answer as to what I’m supposed to do in this kind of situation. It is unreasonable for my professor to expect me to take four exams for one class in a three day period, when it was his absent-mindedness that caused the problem. It isn’t fair to expect me to completely alter my testing schedule because his exams weren’t there on time. I need an extension. On the other hand, fall classes start in approximately 20 days. It is equally absurd to expect me to be taking exams for summer classes at the beginning of the fall semester.
Rock. Me. Hard Place.
It just infuriates me. I am only in this situation because I exercise my right to test in OSD. I’ve done my part – I’ve provided my documentation, sent in my accommodation letters, gone to the interviews, and dealt with the hassle of having to schedule all of my tests personally because I happen to have a disorder that makes filling in testing bubbles on Scantron sheets a nightmare. I have the right to take these tests on a normal schedule – either when everyone else does, or at my convenience, if the class warrants that. Not, under any circumstances, at the convenience of the professor who may or may not send the exams in time for me to take them.
Tomorrow, I’m going to have to have a serious conversation with someone who can do something about this.
Tonight, though, I decided to play with my dog.
Yes, I probably should have studied for one of the other tests I have coming up. Or cleaned my apartment. Or done anything that was actually productive.
But there comes a time in every woman’s life when she has to say, “Aw hell, I give up.” So I did. For tonight, anyway. And what’s more, I enjoyed surrendering to the chaos.
I just wish surrendering to the chaos was a little less itchy.