Channeling Cujo, Wallering Ma and Doing the Quasimodo

It's a little cooler in the holler this morning, offering a little relief from the heat. The Cubicle Asylum is quiet, Bossman never showed up, his desk is clean and the GM said he hasn't heard from him. I'm not sure what's going on, but I'll enjoy the quiet while it lasts.

I'm swamped with work, but trying to recover from my Sunday before I dive right in.

It was rough, ya'll.

I got up pretty early, Ayla was barking and pitching a fit at the butt crack of dawn. I led her to the back door to put her outside and heard Ma calling from her bedroom.

"Can you come in here and do something for me?" she asked.

"I'm not up," I answered. "I'm just letting the dog out. Can it wait?" I was still doing my early morning stagger n' stomp.I needed to go back to bed.

"Well I'm LAYING in the FLOOR but THAT'S OKAY. You just go on back to bed," she replied.

I sighed deep and let it out slowly. It's no easy task getting her out of the floor when she falls. Two weak knees and one bad arm kinda limit the ways you can get hold of her and to her feet. It usually ends up with both of us getting wallered all over the bedroom.

I'll spare ya'll all the gory details... and there are many.. but we ended up with me, Aunt Moses and my trashy big boobed cousin with the lazy eye's youngin' wrapping a sheet around Ma and trying to lift her enough that she could get up on her knees and on the bed. The execution of our plan resulted in some titty trauma and embarrassing indignities for Ma while my "good" foot was stomped a few times and used for traction when the carpet proved too smooth for her... but we eventually got her situated.

She told the youngin' she was fine, Aunt Moses that she thought her knee, her shoulder and her head were all broken and told me to just leave her the hell alone and bring her a Coke.

I think she'll be okay.

Then, last night, just as I was really starting to feel the effects of all the pulling, stomping and wallerin', I was relaxing on the love seat after folding a bunch of laundry. I had my "bad" foot.. ya know.. with the gimp toe, propped up on the empty laundry basket. Pupzilla, having a momentary lapse in judgement, decided it would be a good idea to hurdle my leg to grab Miss Kittypuss on the other side. The result was a jumble of leg, dog, hair and basket followed by screams, growls and yelps.. mostly from me. Before I got tackled, my toe looked bad enough, all scabbed over and weird looking. Afterwards, it swelled up like a radioactive cherry tomato.

I soon gave up hope and decided I should probably just go to bed. I put the dogs out and sat down a minute with a bottle of tea (Arizona Tea comes in those little water bottle packets now. It's good stuff if you can find it ) to relax while I waited. I didn't pay much attention to Yoda's barking at first, he's a yippy little mutt anyway, but then I heard Ayla and Sammy too.

I went to the door and witnessed Yoda, trying to ya know.. make a poopie turd.. but every time he got in position, Ayla would jump at him and bark, sending him after her like Cujo.. which was funny as hell when you consider she could easily pick him up in her mouth.

Yoda has harassed Ayla since the day she came home. It was sorta funny to see her get her revenge.

I soon realized, however, that it was midnight and my neighbors might not appreciate all the barking and growling and carrying on in my backyard, so I called them to come in. Sammy came trotting obediently to the back door, satisfied that he'd done his business. I called Yoda, who made it clear he was not "ready" to come in, so I called for Ayla, who was busy running circles around little squatting Yoda.

I was being ignored.

I just wanted to go to bed. I carefully slipped my feet into my flip flops and made my way down the back steps in nothing but a nightshirt, yelling at both dogs to get in the house. I was moving like Quasimodo after pitching a three day drunk, hobbling alternately on my sprained left ankle (compliments of me and Ma's waller session) and my right gimp toe, which was looking a lot like this:

Usually, once I step out on the back step, the dogs are all like, "Oh chit, it's the lady. What's she doing out here? We must be in trouble," after which they look very disturbed and go flying back into the house.

But not this time.

No. Yoda made me chase his little Cujo growling butt all over the back yard in my nightshirt and flip flops. Every time I'd bend over to pick him up, he'd take off running.

At least we all slept well once we got to bed.

I'm feeling it today though.

I hope ya'll have a kick ass Monday. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters.