God has a sense of humor. No surprise since He is the creator of all things that He would also create humor and use it. Sometimes, though, I think He saves testing his really big jokes on me.
As I neared 60, the “spare tire” began to increase in size. Couple this with a high cholesterol reading (always been in the almost too low range) and you have the making of a not too good old woman. I am active but needed to step up my game. My motivation was sparse so I prayed for God to help me with the problem and provide a solution to my weight loss. I was thinking He would give me a taste for Weight Watchers Food, free Nutrisystem meals or restore my knees so I could run again. It also occurred to me he could just have me wake up pounds lighter with no work at all. I go to bed overweight and wake up svelte. That kind of thing.
Instead, God sent me a dog.
I have been the owner of 2 cats (actually 2 sets of 2 cats) for over 20 years. They travel with us, are independent, use the litter box and easy to manage. Except for the demand for treats and food at 6 am, they have been lovely pets. The dog, on the other hand, has disrupted the household (and me) in ways you cannot imagine.
He has to be walked. Several times a day. We live in a zero lot line home with no yard and also travel extensively in an RV. The dog has to be walked for exercise and my husband has a bad back which precludes him from walking long distances so guess who has to walk the dog. Me.
The dog has to be walked early in the am. No more lounging in my jammies drinking coffee until noon. Nope, it’s feet hit the floor, brush teeth, throw on walking clothes and walk the dog. I don’t even get a sip of Coffee!!
The dog has to be walked late morning and it has to be a long walk to calm him down. He is still a puppy weighing 42 pounds. When that wound up energy comes at you ... well.... it’s good to keep him exhausted.
The dog has to be walked in the afternoon. The dog likes treats. The dog responds to training with treats so I have to walk him for extra exercise so he doesn’t get any heavier than 42 pounds. We don’t need a 60 pound lap dog. (Did I mention the dog thinks he is a Chihuahua?)
The dog has to be walked before bedtime to prohibit being rudely awaken to a wet nose in my face or howling in the middle of the night. He takes great pride in being housebroken.
I am not sure if it is the 10,000 steps per day or the profuse sweating that occurs during my walks that has started the weight loss but a few pounds have been shed, I am sleeping like a baby and my stress seems to be less.
God has a sense of humor but he also knows what we need when we need it. Even if we don’t.
As you are aware, I am in the RED ZONE for retirement planning. This weighs heavily on my mind so I am always looking for opportunities to cut our household expenses. In my quest for savings, I have turned to "The Dollar Store" (insert appropriate brand name here) for certain items. One of the said items is the sticky lint rollers you tear off in sheets.
I have 2 cats so fur and lint management is high on the list of things to do in my home. I keep lint rollers in my closet, suitcases, tote bag and car. It's amazing how cat hair can show up on your clothes in New York when you defuzzed yourself thoroughly before leaving home, while riding to the airport, in the airport bathroom, and in the hotel room before leaving. But, sure enough, during a crucial part of your presentation you look down and there is a big fat cat hair riding on your boob. Could throw you off of your game OR you can pretend it is a part of your accessories and saw Carrie Bradsaw from Sex in the City wearing the same thing on one popular episode. You get the point.
During an especially busy time in our lives I let our lint roller stock get low. To be honest, every lint roller stick was bare. Not a sticky sheet to be found, even in my secret stock I hide from my husband. Luckily, there is a Target right across the street from my office so I breezed by and picked up a dozen on my way home. Just whisked in there with my pants on fire, talking to 3 people on the phone, typing up a proposal on my iPad and weaving a blanket while stalking and buying those jewels. Never even knew what the total price was until I got home and reviewed the ticket.
"$36! $36! You got to be kidding me! I paid $3 a piece for lint rollers! (It's ok to suck all of the air out of the room while reading this. Resume when ready).
My mind began to run the calculations in my mind. No sweet tea for the next 24 meals, work another 12 years, buying cheaper cuts of meat. Horrors! What have I done to my family? I dare not tell my husband as we might have a hospital bill on our hands from shock therapy. So I put those little precious items in their appointed places (closet, car, tote bag, suitcases etc.) and pretended nothing had happened to adversely affect our budget.
The next morning I nervously grabbed the lint roller, unveiled the sticky paper and rolled it across my black pants. What, what?? One roll and the cat hair dissipated. It was surely a fluke so I tried again, this time across my gray jacket. Eureka! Gone. Then the true magic happened. I grabbed the used sticky sheet to reveal the next layer and it came off straight and neat.
No rolling around in the floor to get the used sheet to release, no tattered and torn sides as it ripped halfway revealing part of the stickiness of the next layer, no using 50 sheets to get one unfuzzed leg. I might have stumbled upon the 13th wonder of the world.
That is when it dawned on me that I could actually save money by using these $3 lint rollers. It also dawned on me that the reason I was always covered with cat hair was from rolling around on the floor fighting with the cheap ones.
Needless to say, I was relieved to discover my initial panic was unnecessary. Our budget would survive and sweet tea can be consumed at future meals. Life is good.
I believe enough time has passed to adequately protect the innocent parties that were involved in the incident about to be documented. Also, I wanted some time to pass so my Husband Unit would not call the men in the little white coats (again). But, I digress.
This all started when Husband Unit (HU) decided he and his best buddy were going to take a little road trip down to Florida to visit the folks. History has a tendency of repeating itself and previous trips out of town where he left me here unattended have equated to me backing into a tree, breaking several valuable things and general chaos. I don't know what happens but I seem to lose my mind when he is gone. I think it is because I have to pump my own gas and the fumes make me dizzy and ditsy.
Well, as you know, we are the proud parents of a 17 year old cat - Big Girl. She has a thyroid problem and takes medicine on a daily basis. The veterinarian we have been using was having some problems getting her condition under control so I decided to change to a new (and highly recommended) Vet. Since I was taking a "staycation" during HU's absence, I volunteered to take the little kitty to the vet. No problem right? Put the cat in the carrier and transport her to the vet. After all, HU had assured me there was no problem putting her in the carrier and "she rides really well." He lied.
Our appointment was at 10 a.m. so I put Big Girl in the laundry room at 8:30 a.m. so I would be assured of finding her when we needed to leave. Needless to say, she was not happy to spend 1.5 hours in the same room with the dryer. For some reason, she just doesn't like the dryer. At 9:15 a.m., I retrieved the cat carrier from the attic, placed it on the floor, grabbed Big Girl from the laundry room and walked across the floor to place her in the carrier.
Her arms and legs went out and attached themselves to the four corners of the carrier. Superglue should have so much staying power. I pushed and pulled and tugged and coaxed and twirled to no avail. I think at one point the cat was upside down and inside out. She finally gave out of energy at which time I made my move, unattached her from the corners of the carrier and pushed her inside. By this time, the overwhelming amount of activity has caused me to have a hot-flash which has caused me to soak through my clothes. We are now at 9:30 a.m. and I run to the closet to change clothes and dry my hair.
Running back into the den, I grab the carrier (noting it was very hard to grab) and place the entire package in the car. Screams begin to emit themselves from the carrier. (Reference the earlier comment HU made about "she rides good."). I swear you could hear her 3 states away. The long, LOUD screams of a cat that has been turned upside down and inside out is a little discombobulating but I successfully back out of the garage and begin the drive outside of the neighborhood and then... I spot the car.
I had noted this same car sitting at the entrance to our neighborhood over the last several days which caused my Miss Marple gene to kick in. Being a good Neighborhood Watch participant, I promptly called the police and reported this suspicious vehicle. Unfortunately, about the time the dispatcher picked up the phone, Big Girl let out a deafening scream which caused the phone to disconnect. I redial and explain to the dispatcher that I am taking my cat to the vet, she is not happy, and the screaming she hears in the background is not someone being murdered but an unhappy cat. She begins to laugh hysterically but restrains herself enough to take the information and assures me she will dispatch a car to check out this potential terrorist.
I am pulling into the parking lot when my cell phone rings, I answer and promptly greeted by an investigator from my local police department.
"Mrs Citrone, Sgt so and so here." I hear a little snicker from his end of the phone about the time Big Girl lets out another eardrum bursting scream. "I just wanted to let you know I am the person sitting in your neighborhood." In other words, I have called the police on themselves. Great. Now I have a screaming cat, I have had another hot flash and the police think I am a blooming idiot. He did thank me for being such an observant neighborhood watch member and wished me a good day.
Now it's time to get the cat into the vet. I run around to the passenger side of the car and retrieve the carrier. As I pull it out of the car, I note the handle is on the bottom. Oh! That is the reason it's so hard to carry. I have the cat in the carrier upside down! No problem. I just put the carrier on the ground and slowly rolled the cat over until she was right side up.
Of course, by this time the screaming from the carrier has caused the entire vet staff to come to the door to see what is going on. Here I am rolling the carrier across the parking lot to get the cat right side up. Oh yea, this is a great day. I have never seen these people before and the first glance they have is of me rolling my cat across the pavement. The cat is now right side up, the police have been called off, I have the handle in my hand and we are proceeding into the reception area. As soon as we get in the door, Big Girl quiets down and doesn't squeak a peep. The vet tech pulls her out by the scruff of her neck, pokes, prods and other things we won't mention here. When they bring her back in the room., they put the carrier on the floor and Big Girl jumps right in. That witch!
Needless to say, it was a very upsetting day and one I do not wish to replicate. I finally confessed to HU who just shook his head and called our Son to chastise him for not checking in on me more frequently. He also explained that the cat won't go into the carrier if it is upside down. NOW he tells me!!!
