I am having a *very bad* day and am completely bummed...
(Chicago this weekend was amazing and I'll post some pics later when I'm feeling less dreary.)
I did something stupid this weekend, knew it was a bad idea even, and shore 'nuff, did it anyway. It's another shining example of how fortunate I am to have survived to the ripe old age of 38 with all my parts intact.
Instead of taking my beloved demon pup to the kennel which she hates but is not a bad place altogether, I left her with a co worker, who offered to have Maggie stay for the night. I figured since she has some property, a fenced in kennel and a couple dogs and it was only for one night, Maggie would be happier there than holed up in the smelly old kennel.
When we dropped her off, we were initially freaked out by her gigantic dog, who was acting pretty aggressive towards Ms Maggie, but we had to get going to catch the train and didn't have much time to quibble.
When we went to pick the girl up, she had what appeared to be a cut on her leg-- co worker has no clue how it got there, no big deal--we'll get Maggie home and check it out, clean it, etc.
When I start to clear away the hair, turns out it was a *giant* laceration, about 2 inches long, and deep-- and then I notice that there's more small lacerations on her hips and belly, which start to look an awful lot like a bite pattern. So then it hits me: Maggie was almost eaten by a St Bernard! ACK! Soon after, we notice that she's crying and limping... and I'm freaking out-- she cried throughout the night and wasn't walking well this morning. Sure enough, I get her to the vet and he tells me it's bad, and already infected. She'll need to be sedated and have stitches, antibiotics, etc and etc... poor thing.
And it looked like they were shooting tons of fireworks off while she was there, too, which she's deathly afraid of-- so now, in my lazy ass effort to save a few bucks we have a gun dog who is very likely going to be gun shy, might have a raging deep wound infection, and a gigantic vet bill.
@#$%ing idiot! So here I sit, holed up on a vacation day waiting for the vet to call so I can pick her up, pondering how to approach the co worker: is her dog up to date with his shots? How could she not know he was aggressive and would bite a puppy? (she's having a baby and should probably be a litte worried... esp if she didn't know that the cut was actually a bite). Anyhoo.
It's a wonder my kids are still alive...
That, and we got a notice in the mail that the priest wants to build a 3000 square foot DAYCARE center behind our property. He is not legally within his rights to do so, but since he's richer than anyone on the town board, he's been cleared to break all sorts of rules throughout the years, some of which have become a problem for us. We have incredible drainage and flooding problems due to the GIGANTIC nun mansion he built a couple years ago and paved (which he wasn't supposed to do, because of our water problems, but whoopsie!)-- and where the hell would he put his sign? Right on/adjacent to our property, that's where, with all sorts of people driving up and down that stupid service road all day long (which is not actually a road, and thus has no drainage ditch, etc). Good god, it's depressing. And in light of all the recent media coverage, why anyone would allow priests access to their children is beyond me, seriously.
I need a cocktail, and it's only noon. Boo.