Sunday, January 20, 2008

The Dog's days are numbered

Sort of a bad-ish day anyway. With a slight hangover from yesterday--

1) Still haven't received vaccination records from the rescue service that I had requested over a week ago. I had signed Kody up at Petsmart with the understanding that I'd have the records at the 2nd lesson. So I'm a bit perplexed at having not heard from the rescue woman...this on top of having had some doubts as to whether she'd oversold him beginning to make me wonder if I'd placed a bit too much trust in her. Petsmart said go ahead and bring him in.

2) A warning light on the dash had caused me to stop and look at the tires, so we were a few minutes late walking in to a very full class with a barking dog and the uneasy feeling that the other class members had wished we weren't coming. We were unfortunately positioned directly in front of the glass separating us from the doggie daycare. ALL the dogs in doggie daycare clustered to the spot where I was restraining a nearly uncontrollable, hysterical, lunging and plunging Kody.

Called AAA when we got home; they came out and changed the tire.


Gary's still gone on the mountain.

Took Connor to a friend's for 'garage band practice'. Because Scott had done so well with cooperating with vision therapy, I was going to take him to Toys R Us to pick out a transformer toy. On the way the tire warning light came on. Around that time Scott is saying something to me, not understanding that just because he knows what he's saying doesn't mean I can hear or understand him. When I ask him to repeat he yells so loudly that I jump. So I'm rattled with him as I pull off this country highway onto a smaller country road and look for a slightly wider place in the road where I can stop and reset the tire pressure. I'm always a little self-conscious stopping in front of houses, so I pull a little forward of a driveway. After resetting the pressure I back into the driveway to reverse direction, and, distracted by my irritation with Scott I misjudge my angle and get wedged into the culvert that's just to the side of the solid part of the driveway. Can't drive out. Get out to look and get yelled at from the house, "Are you enjoying marking up our yard?" "I'm really sorry" I replied, and get "That's what you get for using other people's driveways to turn around!" Awwww, sh*t. No mercy today. She slams into her house in a huff and I'm at least grateful that I remembered to bring the cell phone so that I don't have to throw myself on her scanty goodwill to ask to use her phone. I call AAA, 2nd time in 2 days. The dispatcher at least is nice, but I'm discouraged that it may be 40 minutes before a tow truck can get there. I say, "If there is anyway they could make it sooner, I'd sure appreciate it, because I've really irritated the people whose driveway I'm in." He said he'd see what he could do.

After a long 40 minutes of entertaining an impatient 6 year old the truck comes. When the driver rolls down his window I said, "Do you think you'll be able to pull me out without doing any further damage to these people's property?" To my dismay, he took offense and thought I was saying he couldn't do his job. He wanted to know if I preferred to have someone else come. It was clear that this was one of those situations that had gotten off to a bad start and that just about anything I would say was only going to dig me in deeper--how ironic. I did say I was only asking because I was hoping he could tell me that he could, since I was worried about having done damage to these people's driveway. Somewhat mollified he commenced to hook me up to his vehicle (which to my further dismay he'd positioned behind me in their driveway rather than in front of me on the public road). I was so rattled that I forgot to put the van in neutral (though I DID remember to remove the parking brake) and so left a divot when he winched us out. He said, "I'll get this cleaned up. You're good to go." I hesitated, thinking maybe I should walk up to the house to apologize again and maybe offer some sort of restitution, but he said again that he could fix it.

So I left, unhappy about the whole thing. Wondering if I should come back later and apologize again, and if I should call the AAA dispatcher and ask him to tell the guy that I really hadn't meant that I thought the driver was incompetent; I was just anxious and embarrassed at what I'd done.

By the time we were done at the toystore it was time to go get Connor anyway, so I drove back past the house. The driver actually had done quite a nice job of fixing the damage so I decided I'd eaten enough crow and that no more was required of me there.

So (and this is where the dog comes in), home at last, 3 hours after leaving. Home to plaster on the floor where the dog had chewed the molding off the front door and dug a significant hole into the drywall surround.

The day before yesterday I had been writing and he had been pacing so restlessly that I thought he needed to potty outside. I put him on the leash (no fence) and put him out for a while. When he barked I went to get him but he didn't want to come in. I really didn't want to leave him out there because I wanted to be upstairs and I was afraid he'd get tangled in the leash and hurt himself. When I took his collar he set his feet and pulled backward. I manhandled him through the door but when he heard the lead release he redoubled his effort and overpowered me. Corkscrew maneuvered, raking my face with his paws in the process. Broke free and ran like hell. At that point I was angry enough to hope he'd get hit by a car and be done with it. I do not want a dog I have to walk every day! I do not want yet one more demand in my life. With a great effort my responsible side resurfaced and I tried the ruse that had worked the last 2 times he'd broken free. I went and opened the car door: "Want to go for a ride???" (high, squeaky voice). "Go for a ride???"

I'll admit it may be the shadow of a very awkward day influencing my response to coming home to our damaged door, but I don't think I'm the one to do the work it's going to take to reclaim this dog from being nearly unmanageable. Maybe in the context of a life that was a bit happier and a bit more stable. Hopefully the rescue service can find him a home with a fenced yard or a lot of property to run on.

1 comment:

Lori said...

Oh, what a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day!

I completely understand your drawing the lines for what you will and won't do with the resources/support you have.

It sounds like your household, the dog and the timing just may not be a match.