The Next Steps–‘Racing Red’ Wheelie-Bobber and All

I’m doing better after the knee replacement, which is great news to everyone around me. But I’m not getting better fast enough to suit me, which is bad news for everyone around me.

The worst part is not being able to write consistently yet. The meds keep putting me to sleep at unexpected moments, resulting in pages and pages of a single letter. And the fact I don’t want to take the chance of drooling on the laptop. I think even on battery power there’s a potential risk of electrical shock.

I feel sorry for my sweet hubby who has powered through this bearing offerings of juice, yogurt and prying a protesting, yet rapidly pruning wife out from under the first shower head she’d felt in ten days. (Sponge baths just do not suffice.) And he managed it without injury to either of us! Talented man!

I feel sorrier for my poor dog right now. He’s always been sensitive to emotions, which makes him the most wonderful children’s dog. He’ll sit there suffering a choke hold as the woes of the world are sniffled into his ears. And nothing takes the place of doggy kisses. They’re entirely non-judgmental.

The problem arises when he tries to turn me into one of the kiddies. He can’t stand the fact I sniffle at odd moments. Or that I make pained noises during physical therapy. Snap at people then cry because I’m so mean. So Smokey has tried to handle things in his own doggy way.

My sporty Racing Red walker has been the source of much of his consternation. I makes loud noises of suffering offensive to his sensitive nature while walking behind it. So if I leave it unattended, he puts his front paws on it and ‘drives’ it to the far end of the hall where it can’t hurt me. And will not bring it back no matter how much I beg or threaten! I’m stuck until someone rescues my wheelie-bobber and fetches it to me. Personally? I’m worried someone might open the back door when he has control of it and not pay attention to where he’s going!

I’m overly sensitive to things that normally don’t bother me. Like those little bugs that hang out around the back porch light and slip in with the grandkids’ too-numerous-to-count entrances and exits. Smokey was quick to notice my flailing and shouting at all buzzing things. Some of my efforts have gotten really wild when trying to knock down the tiny ones that fly in constant spirals. Ever tried taking out one of those bad boys with subdued reaction time due to narcotics?  Not only do your eyes cross trying to follow them closely enough to get a good lick on them, but by the time you’ve figured out how to intercept their spiral trajectory, you’ve lost focus on what you were trying to achieve in the first place. At least until the little bugger zooms up your left nostril. The heck with dainty and delicate. I’m snorting and gagging!

In order to alleviate my insect generated spastic fits, Smokey has appointed himself a one dog de-bug squad. Moth, house fly, teensy little light bug, even the rare wasp, all are on his extermination list. I’ve never seen such canine focus. Such tracking capabilities. Neither have I seen such feats of acrobatic athleticism. I waved off a tiny moth without thinking, and Smokey locked on like a heat-seeking missile.  Three laps around the coffee table, an all out charge toward the French doors, he finished with a somersaulting side twist as it disappeared with a snap of his jaws. Other times he’s dived nose-first into the area rug. Raced across the back of the couch. And when accidentally locked in the other room, from my side of the glass resembled a horror-movie snail with teeth  as he chased a small beetle in a series of ‘love-bites’ until he caught and annihilated it. None of his actions shabby for a forty pound dog!

Crud. My lack of attention span has left my walker unguarded. That means my sole mode of self-transportation is now wheelie-bobbing its squeaking way down the hall, and it’s sure not me behind it! Guess I’m stuck here on the couch until Stevie-do gets out of the shower. And here comes Smokey back to sit beside the couch with his head cocked at me, tail thumping because he’s so pleased with himself.

Wait. He just went very, very still. What on earth has he focused on now? Uh, oh. I stroked the touch pad and his laser gaze followed followed the cursor! Nooo! Not that!

Sorry all. Need to shut this down now. Not sure what he’d do to the laptop!  But I’m positive his intentions would be good!

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4 Responses

  1. Runere…I love you and Smokey! I’m laughing so hard right now. I’m sorry. Really, I am. And I’m jealous. If I were laid up, my dog, Mia, would more than likely attach herself to my lap to keep me from moving so she could sleep more comfortably. She thinks Mom was put on Earth as her personal comfy sofa. There would be no protecting me from insects or walkers or evil laptops. No, if I swatted at an insect, she’d grumble at me for moving. *sigh* Smokey sounds like a top-notch protector. You’re so lucky.

    • Smokey is actually a pound puppy one of my grandsons picked out. But he stays with us. He definitely keeps the days from seeming too long! lol Or maybe longer than normal, depending on his antics!

  2. Good dog. He’s such a grand helper! I can just picture him strolling down the hallway with your red wheels! What a picture!

    Keep on getting better-

    • Been a rough day today for some reason. Wrapped in my ice pad right now to curtail some sudden swelling. (But then, maybe I’m doing more!) The ice plant loves me! I’m going through 40 pounds of ice every other day! hahaha

      So glad Rita’s daughter, Laura, did well with her knee surgery! I don’t envy anyone having to endure it. Now if we could ensure Rita doesn’t over do things . . . Worry about her, too. That maternal streak runs so fiercely through her! Gotta love her for it! She’s one in a million.

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