Tuesday, May 9, 2017

What a Difference a Day Makes

Last night Scrappy kept waking me up with his pacing.  Usually, he sleeps like a rock and Midge is the one who paces.  The tippy-tapping of toenails on the tile floor is like fingernails on a chalkboard for me.  I took advantage of Midge being sick last week by clipping her toenails when she was too weak to fight back, but Scrappy and Stewie are still a battle.

You may remember that I was stressing over who will trim Scrappy's toenails now that he has that humongous tumor on his toe.  I figured I'd have to pay the vet to do it.  However, the vet put him on a medication that may or may not shrink the mass, and Scrappy turned out to be one of the lucky few who it worked for.  This week I noticed that the swelling was almost completely gone, which is amazing when you consider that the vet was talking about amputating his entire toe a few weeks ago.  I decided to take him and Stewie to the dog salon and say nothing about Scrappy's toe.  I wanted to see if the groomer would notice a problem and bring it up.  She didn't.  She just mentioned that because he's so old, he has a hard time standing up on the grooming table, so she had to get someone to hold him while he got his pedicure.  All's well that ends well.

So, that's happy news.  Since things were going my way, I decided to try again to set up all those appointments that eluded me yesterday.  Someone answered right away at the hair salon, so I was able to get some personalized service.  I was disappointed to find out that the lady who answered the phone will be my stylist.  That means they don't have a receptionist and I'll have to deal with her answering the phone during my appointment.  I also found out that she only works Wednesdays and Saturdays, so I have to wait over a week to get my hair done.  It's pretty ratty right now.

Then someone actually picked up the phone at the pedicure place.  I couldn't believe it.  I've been calling them for over six months without so much as a pulse being at the other end of the line.  I got my appointment for that.  I had the same trouble with them that I have with most people where I say I need an afternoon appointment, and they say, "How about 11:00?"

It's amazing how many people graduated from high school without knowing the range of time that covers an afternoon.  After noon.  Get it?  Noon is 12:00 PM.  After that.  Every one picks appointment times between 9:00 AM and noon for me, and that's right when I like to ride my horses if the weather permits.  I always keep that time clear.  I said, "No, I need an afternoon appointment like..." and I was going to suggest 2:00 PM, because the dogs are always sleeping then and I have no animals to feed or chores to do, but she said, "I have a 1:00."

I took it.  I'll have to feed and potty the dogs early, but it shouldn't be too much of a hassle.  Then I called the vet, hoping for a triple crown, but no one answered.  I left a message and vowed to just keep my phone with me all day... or week.  I tend to catch vets when they are on vacation.  

Last night my husband came home from work with a bunch of new flavors and brands of Kombucha tea.  He shopped at a Walmart in the city where he works.  So, we have some of that in stock now.  I'm not holding my breath waiting for my local grocery store to order it for me.

Going to the dog salon is always a struggle.  Neither Stewie nor Scrappy like it there, so I have to drag them.  Even if I can situate my purse in such a way that I can carry one dog, I still have to drag the other.  Everybody watches me struggle, but nobody ever offers to help.  I keep hoping that one of these days someone will at least hold the door open for me.  Anyway, Scrappy is completely obsessed by the smells of other dogs, so I couldn't get him to leave the planter in front of the salon.  I had to push him along with my foot, and this lady was looking down her nose at me like I was being abusive.

Despite taking the dogs out to do their business immediately before driving to the salon, Scrappy both peed and pooed in the planter.  I've learned to carry plastic sandwich baggies in my purse at all times so that I don't get stoned in public.  While I was waiting for the dogs' nails to be done, a lady drove up in a crossover and pulled into the parking spot right next to my truck.  She parked so close that there was no way that I could open the back door and get my dogs into my truck.  To top it all off, there were dozens of empty spaces she had to choose from.  There was no need to block me like that.  I was going to pick up Stewie and run out there to ask her to move her car when she read my mind and pulled forward into a spot directly in front of the salon.

She then proceeded to step right in front of me at the cash register and throw several twenties down on the counter.  I was waiting to pay for the toenail trims and I had been there about five minutes already.  All the groomers were busy and the owner was on the phone, and this lady just yelled out her dog's name and demanded that someone bring him to her.  They let her pay before me, even though I'd been waiting, and I thought she must be someone terribly important who is in a very big hurry.  However, once she got her dog, she made all of us wait while she exclaimed how wonderful he looked and asked each of us if we agreed.  She then reached down and grabbed Stewie and held him still so that she could pet him without asking me if it was okay.  Poor Stewie was terrified.

She let her dog run around off leash despite my dog being right there.  Her dog ran up to Stewie to sniff him, and Stewie tolerated it for about two seconds before her bared his teeth and growled.  She saw all this, but did nothing, so I had to pick up my dog to save her dog from getting bit despite me being the responsible one keeping my dog on a short leash.  Oh, how I love to crouch down and bend over with my arthritis pain.  I really dislike people in this world who think they are superior to everyone and must have the right of way.  That's the vibe this lady gave off.  The Queen is here.  Make way.

I run into one of those almost every time I go to this dog salon, so as you can imagine, it's not my favorite place.  However, I was so pleased to be free of the tippy-tapping on the tile for a while that I could tolerate dealing with Miss Haughty Pants for a few minutes, knowing that the luxury of a full night's sleep is on my horizon.

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