Boy, did I have a shitty and tough night last night. A night I chose to say little of and would rather forget about. Mental illness is a fickle beast and can strike at almost any time.
Today was the first day of the fall season I turned on my heat. My comfort range is around 78° to 80° degrees and it was 74° degrees in this house when I woke up this morning. I wore a jacket and long pants and finally relented when it grew uncomfortable and set the heat to 78°.
My father has just left after administering my medications. I was so very glad when I heard that knock on the door and the dogs went wild at his arrival. Dixie has learned, too, that Papa’s arrival is a special time around this household. She gets just as excited as Maggie does. I always just let her out the front door to go greet my father and she stays outside the front door so dad can spend some time with Maggie. I then call her and she comes right back inside.
Dad had to work all morning opening and closing the pharmacy at noon. Now, he has a wedding to attend this afternoon. It seems his responsibilities continually get heaped upon him.
I’ve got to get down to Wal-Mart today and get Maggie some nail clippers pronto having misplaced my pair. When her nails get too long then she starts to slightly and then increasingly limp. It is pitiful and painful to see her hobble about the house. Her nails grow faster than any dog I have ever owned. I guess it is because she never goes outside except to use the bathroom.
Photo credit: http://www.ukmix.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=12&t=109569&p=5746879
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