Oh No! C-C-C-Corn Dog. She's Trying to K-K-K-Kill Me!

Corn Dog did indeed try to kill me last night. She left her rubber chewy bone cleverly hidden on the stairs to the basement, about halfway down. You know how this ends, right? Yes, with me stepping squarely on the bone and slip sliding my way down half a flight of stairs. On my ass. And apparently on my wrist. My right wrist is super tender, sore and poppy now. As an old friend would say, Gooooooood Corn Dog.

Tonight, Corn Dog has been faithfully barfing all over the house. First a nice liquid version over a shockingly large area of the rug in the family room and then a nice chunky version on the hard wood floor. Don't worry sister Jenn, she's just getting it out of her system before she comes to stay with you and her boyfriend Indy. Isn't that nice of her?

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous about leaving the dogs for another 10 days after just leaving them last week. It's not that I don't trust the people that are so kindly caring for the dogs while I'm traveling for work, not at all. It's that Cassady has visibly aged in the last couple of weeks. His back legs are fairly worthless all of a sudden - I have to wheelbarrow him up the stairs if he goes down them. And he can hardly get up on his favorite sofa anymore. The most disturbing though is his recent lack of appetite. He's still eating, just not as much. Without warning, the same amount of food he used to lustily devour at dinner is too much - there's always some left in his bowl now. It wouldn't be a big thing except that his thyroid medicine is mixed in, so I'm worried he's not getting all of his meds.

And I don't have the travel dogs right now. Surfer Boy is back in his home state of California for the time being and before he left, I sent the travel dogs along with him. I know it's a small comfort to have the travel dogs, but it is some comfort when I'm abandoning them for such extended periods.

So yeah, all the hemming and hawing here about what's going on in my life basically stems from that fact: Surfer Boy is in California. Which in case you weren't aware, is a long way from Ol' MO. Long story short is that I came back from Barcelona in time for our sixth wedding anniversary, only to wake up that morning crying. We talked, we agreed that neither of us were very happy where we were in our marriage, in our lives, in our skin, and we decided to take some time apart. To see what maybe we were taking for granted. To see what we'd be missing without one another.

It's been real, real hard. We're talking a lot on the phone and via texts and we're hopeful we can bust this thing loose and get back to loving, living, and laughing. I'm trying to live this life one day at a time; to not fall into the trap of self-hate and despair; to be grateful for what I have; to see the forest for the trees. I couldn't do this without the support of Surfer Boy and my incredibly supportive and loving family and friends.

So there it is. Life. It's not easy for me to put this/myself out there, but as you can tell from recent posts, I've got nothing else on my mind but this life stuff. Who knows when I'll have the guts to post more about this, but this is a start. And there you have it.

Oh, first person to name the movie the title of this post is from gets a virtual cookie. Which isn't near as tasty as a real cookie, but what're you gonna do?

Here's Cassady and the rug Corn Dog just barfed on.