Sunday, August 29, 2010

Dead Man Walking

I have settled into a routine now, and barely notice that The Boss is absent.

Each morning it is up early, release the hounds and feed the hounds, shower, walk the hounds, then off to work at the glue factory. I head home for lunch to release the hounds again and have a bite to eat before heading back to the glue factory for the remainder of the work day. After work, it is a simple dinner, and some light chores before retiring to the recliner for some TV and then bed by 10:00pm where I toss and turn most of the night due to the huge empty space created by the lack of hounds. Because, as I’ve mentioned, in some bizarre doggy practical joke, now that there is room the hounds refuse to sleep in the bed.

This morning started out like every other Monday, I am stirred from sleep at 23 minutes to alarm o’ clock by doggy breath, and open my eyes to see large scary teeth and a huge tongue panting a “get up and let me out before I am forced to cold nose your neck” warning. Like usual, any movement perceived by Cy to indicate I am getting up triggers the jumpy jump, mouthy arm, air snappy, hoppy dance that is designed to block total access to the bathroom and cause deep ironic regret over ignoring the Help-I’ve-Fallen-and-Can’t-Get-Up TV commercials. I have learned over time that release the hounds is first above all other activities no matter how urgent, or very bad and painful things happen to me.

This morning on my way to release the hounds, I noticed something horrifying out of the corner of my eye that stopped me dead in my tracks and instantly filled me full of horror and dread. I have likely walked past this scene 1000 times since The Boss’s departure, and either I had a psychological block, or the vision simply did not register. We have INSIDE PLANTS!! Or, more accurately, we USED to have inside plants and now have pots on stands, on shelves, on the floor and hanging from corners, that contain brown dry leaves on spindly sticks.



I think I remember The Boss telling me to remember to water something. Honestly, I was not really paying attention, and I figured that eventually I would figure out what I was supposed to do by the lack of water somewhere in the house. I really don’t remember us even having inside plants, and likely, she has placed these here as a test which I have horribly failed.

I “watered” the sticks this morning before I left for the glue factory, and I “watered” them again during my lunch stop over, but I really don’t think there is much hope. On the way home this evening I am going to buy a few cans of green spray paint and some drinking straws and try to repair the damage. Maybe, just Maybe she won’t notice..

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