Sunday, July 8, 2012

How Do You Do That?

Over the last few weeks, I've been showing Lou how I do various tasks around the house.

Like running the clothes washer for different types of loads: bedsheets vs. black tee shirts vs. towels...

Lou already does almost everything anyway. I really don't have that many jobs assigned to me.

Oh, one of my jobs was to scoop all the dog poop in the back yard the day before the lawn gets mowed. We hired the neighbor's kid to handle that one! (Did I mention how smart Lou is?)

Yesterday we ran through the dog's monthly anti-flea/tick/heartworm regimen.

First I give Bailey a prescription "cookie" for heartworm, and then I squirt the anti-flea oily goo between her shoulder blades.

The toughest part is removing the goo dispenser from the plastic packaging without leaking the goo all over your hands. (Explains why I have no fleas on me.)

Making squirmy Miss Bailey stand still long enough to get the goo out isn't trivial, either, espec if you are attempting it as a one-person job.

There is the rub: the one-person job. I am showing him all this stuff in preparation for when I won't be here anymore.

We hadn't actually talked about that aspect, till yesterday. It was just this un-said thing.

But I got a little upset yesterday.

Every month, for years, when I have done the flea thing, I have made a note with date and whatever is going on that day. It started just as a way for disorganized me to keep track of whether the dogs got their flea stuff done every month.

Like, one old note commemorates the first time Sam got the flea stuff as an "only dog" --- after Molly died.

Like, a more recent note says that Lou took Bailey for her first 3.5 mile walk, which explained why Bailey spent the rest of the day wonderfully asleep and therefore not underfoot at every turn.

Yesterday, I wrote that this was the first time Lou had done it all himself, and I drew a smiley face, even though I was actually a little teary.

So a few hours later, when Lou told me that he thought I had rushed him through the process a little, I admitted that I had been trying to hide being upset. I wasn't upset because I won't be there to squirt the goo and write the note. I was upset that I won't be there, period.

So we held hands for a little while, and I felt better.


Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone

11 comments:

Mary Mcenteer said...

I was just thinking this morning that it's time for the flea stuff regimen. I laughed out loud at your comment about not having an fleas yourself........I have none either! Thanks so much as always for your incredible sense of humor. Thanks also for sharing your pain/sadness with us. I am continuing to pray for your comfort and happiness. Much Love!~

Jenn said...

It's the little things, isn't it? Something seemingly small that will remind us of something really big. The flea stuff did it for you. Eating Oreos did it for me when I remembered how Michael taught me how many dunks in the milk was juuust the right number (17, if you're curious--16 and it's still too crunchy, 18 and it's a soggy mess). Anyway, Karen, thank you, again, for allowing us all to share this journey with you.

Thandi said...

Being the voice of inexperience, I'll just offer virtual ((HUGS))

Anonymous said...

Hugs Karen. Small steps, small goals, and you face everything with your wonderful sense of humor and the irony of facing life with those that love you so much! You are blessed to have so many friends, and, I for one am so amazed at your ability to put the tough parts into words.
Love you, Aunt Peggy

Anonymous said...

We're with you, dear Karen, through the good stuff and the bad. Every time I plant a tree, I know I won't be there to see it grow to its greatest heighth, but I pretend that that time won't come. It will, though. But you've given us the gift of sharing your life in "real time" and we love you so much.

Jeannie, Eric, Tom, and Phil.

Tinalynne said...

I am so glad to know that you do not have fleas! HA!

Karen said...

I love Oreos, but I would never ever dunk. Maybe as a child, I lost a cookie by dropping it into the milk. That's a blow you never recover from.

Anonymous said...

I'm always impressed by your ability to take whatever comes your way, accept it, and then move forward. You've shown that strength and grace at work countless times, and now you continue to teach that lesson from home.

Of course, I'm sure part of that grace due to the lack of fleas... :-)

Hugs,
Meredyth

Anonymous said...

Speakig of Oreos and dunking and loving them:
I knew of a guy who LOVED Oreos but never to rarely would eat them because they dirtied his teeth so much.

Kind of makes you go Hmmmmm,
--Heidi

Anonymous said...

who knew flea goo would have you saying some of the unsaid stuff and Lou reassured you. He is a gem and you are a true inspiration with a wicked sense of humor...Oreo trauma...ha, ha, ha...that must be it.

I just try not to buy them because just one turns into just one row.

Love you,
Kathy
ya know from Kirkland

PS my nature card that will be on the way this week kind of has to do with trees...but animals too, Jeannie, Eric, Tom, and Phil reminded me of this.

Donna McPartlan said...

Karen,
Thinking of our walks around Littleton at lunch back in Digital/LKG days. You are amazingly clever and funny. I remember a while back you said you like 'Big Bang Theory'. I just got the app for my verizon phone so when I get a text sheldon says bazinga! And when I get a call Howards mother shouts "who's calling at this ungodly hour" Thought you might get a chuckle if its not old news.
Sending love and prayers to you and Lou and Tinalynn.
Donna
Xoxo