Discombobulated. That’s me.
Right after I scheduled poor sweet Barnaby’s castration and gastropexy, I found my day planner still sitting open on the table where I left it, but with it’s guts ripped out and devoured. That is one way to cancel an appointment.
So, I’ve been trying to remember my schedule, which has led to some amusing moments, like arriving to a meeting one day early. These things happen. Unfortunately, not according to Barnaby’s diabolical plan. I still remember that Barnaby is going in for surgery tomorrow morning. Plus Companion Pet Clinic called to remind me. (Thanks!)
Barnaby turned one last week and weighed in at 140 pounds. My Pirate gave him a massive cow bone for his birthday, which Barnaby loved. Unfortunately, the bone upset his stomach and gave him explosive diarrhea throughout the night after My Pirate left for work. I will never forget his first birthday.
And somewhere in the midst of all of this, my spring has sprung. My Indian Plum is blooming, we had our first work party at the community garden, I attended the Yard, Garden, and Patio Show and I’ve signed up for my community garden plot. In the lull before my life pivots from spring planning into spring planting, Barnaby will get his surgery and need to quietly heal for three weeks. My boisterous boy, quietly lay around? This is going to be a challenge for both of us. Tranquilizers and wine might be necessary.