Still in recovery from extreme dog sitting last week and dealing with the cleaning hangover from the same dog, glimmers of normalcy light up my day. There are still things to clean and put away but there is a sense of becoming civilized again.
There are still three bones beside the fireplace and part of a ripped up cookbook peeking out from under the couch. Tumbling in a hot dryer as we speak, three different heavy throws from the winter couch decor that the pup wanted to snuggle in, thump themselves clean, soft and dry. Floors quickly swept and mopped will do for the time being until I feel an increase in floor mopping coming on. Dog dishes, rinsed and set aside for the next visitation.
Yet, still, the cat has not quite decamped from my bedroom, existing still in the cat condo set up hurriedly erected to avoid unpleasanties. While the dog was here I didn’t sleep in my bedroom but the cat did. Dog and I slept together in the recliner. If I tried to sleep in my bedroom the dog demanded attention and that sent the elderly cat toughing it out in a big soft wool nest in a big wicker basket right out of her mind.
Tomorrow, tough love continues with my goal of removing the cat from my room and establishing myself in the sanctuary.
Once the cat and dog crud is dealt with, that is when I face my income taxes. It just can’t get any better than that.