Thursday, December 1, 2011

Our Escape Artist

     'Twas the night 'fore Thanksgiving and all through the crib;
     We waited patient for dinner, Patrick wearing his bib.
     The oven was baking sweet tasty good treats;
     And we all wore our socks, to keep the chill from our feet.
     The In-laws brought dinner, tamales and dip;
     Then escaped, our dear Sumo, out the door he did slip.
     We all took off sprinting, including the dog;
     Barefoot and hungry, we slowed to a jog.
     Desperate to catch him, we yelled out his name;
     We stopped all the traffic, a frightening game.
     A capture was made, not a moment too soon;
     Because Patrick's poor lungs spiraled down wind to doom.
     There was no one to blame, except naughty dog nature;
     But we must find a way to keep that damn dog from danger.

     Seriously. That really happened, minus Patrick wearing a bib. . . . . okay okay you got me. . . . . .we also didn't witness a cat driving a vehicle . . . . .but if we did, that would have been quite a show! We chased Sumo for what felt like a decade. Around the longest blocks ever made. Into a dark alley, where he was finally distracted by other barking dogs. It was the most Patrick's ran in about 4 months, and his lungs were not happy. It must have been a combination of poor conditioning and cold air that we aren't used to that really set them {his lungs} off. He had the most terrible wheezing. He sounded like a 500lb man just tried to run a mile, and failed. Obviously. I set him up with humidification, hot tea, vapor rub, and codeine cough syrup, but he still had some residual symptoms by morning. All the clinics were closed due to the holidays, and I was seriously thinking of bringing him up to the NICU to get a breathing treatment. On top of it all, my man's feet were bruised the next day from running so far on the sidewalk barefoot. So he went from running with the lungs of a 500lb man, to walking the next day like a 90 year old man with broken feet. Poor thang. . . . . .

    Patrick and I both needed some medication . . . . . . . . . or meditation skills to calm ourselves this week from our newly turned Hellion, aka Sumo Wrestler Carruth. The next night when I left for work, Patrick went outside to do a couple of things, and the little turd pushed his way out of the screen door! Patrick wouldn't even have realized, but he heard something jingling in the dark, Sumo's collar, and decided to check it out. Luckily, he {the Hellion} was cornered into a privacy fence for an easy capture; and Patrick was able to dog-proof the front door the next day.
     In a vaguely related note, have you ever tried meditation? It's hard (unlike that comic girls ex...get it?!?!?!). My mind never shuts down. It wasn't long ago that we watched the movie Eat, Pray, Love. During a scene in the movie, Julia Roberts' character is trying to learn the practice of meditation in her journey to happiness. She looks at the person in front of her and becomes pissed that the lady looks so peaceful and blank-minded; all she {Julia} can think about is not being able to stop thinking about things. THAT'S ME!!! I've never felt closer to that red-headed-hooker than at that very moment.
     I think the closest I ever get to successful meditation is during a back massage. Despite my efforts to stay as awake as possible, to enjoy every half second of the wonderful heavenliness, I manage to slip away somewhere between a un-medicated conscious sedation and a comatose alertness. It sounds strange and impossible, but I it's the best I can describe it. I need a massage every week. Problem solved. Someone find a way to make this happen. Now. Please and thank you.

Have you ever tried medication.....I mean...meditation? What do you do to relax and calm yourself from stressful situations (besides hittin' the bottle)?

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