We had to take Boots back to his previous owner. He was miserably unhappy being fenced in. He'd stand at the fence looking in the direction of his old home. He didn't want to play. He was just pitiful. Younger Son and I took him back yesterday afternoon. As soon as we let him out of the car, he was off to the pastures hunting rabbits again. YS is sad that it didn't work out, but I've reminded him that the cocker spaniel will be joining us very soon. Hopefully that one will work out.
Older Son is doing well. He's still stressing sometimes about the fact that he only remembers the beginning and ending of Monday. I've tried to tell him that there's nothing worth remembering. I *wish* I could forget it.
I can understand that it's probably not pleasant to have lost so many hours and not have been drunk at the time. No one should have big blanks in their memory. Those are the breaks where this is concerned, though. Luckily, he's coming around to my belief that Monday is OVER for all of us. None of the rest of us get a do-over, so neither does he. We're moving forward.
Today is the boys' last day of school; half day actually since they get out at 12:30. They tried to get me to let them stay home today since nothing was going to happen anyway. No dice. I sent them to school anyway. They won't see some of their friends again until August when school starts again, so I figure another half day with those friends won't hurt anything.
Monday Older Son will go to the grandparents for a week. Wednesday Younger Son will go to church camp for four days. I'm looking forward to a few days of quiet. Still trying to decide what I'll do with my solitude. Maybe go see Star Trek. Most certainly get some yard work done. Slim possibility of a visitor - maybe. We'll see.
...Not that I'm trying to parent the dog, but...well, I'm sure you'll get the picture.
Boots is finally starting to act like a dog - at least for now. He's dropping the cat/beagle/homing pigeon creature act for the moment. I got one of those corkscrew spike things today so that I could secure him out in the yard. He seemed to enjoy that much more than being cooped up in the garage. He started making a racket just after dark, though, so I put him back in the garage for the night. I think maybe he could tell there was yet another thunderstorm brewing and didn't want to be stuck outside in it. Didn't bother me, though. I'm not ready to risk another cat/dog incident.
Older Son has 8th grade graduation Thursday night, but he'll probably miss it. He got up with a fever this morning. Turns out there's some icky stomach virus going around and it landed square on my son. He's absolutely pitiful. I'm going quietly crazy keeping an eye on him. Older Son has a mild form of epilepsy. He only has seizures when he's had a fever. His last seizure was about a year ago. Most people who have fibrile (I think that's how it's spelled) seizures outgrow them. I'm hoping Older Son will.
It's usually very easy to tell when he's going to have a seizure. A seizure for my son always follows a period of severe confusion/disorientation. Confused to the point that he can't even count to ten or remember the name of people he's known for years. The actual seizures are pretty traumatic. He'll lose control of *all* bodily functions, chew his tongue to hamburger, stop breathing. Granted he always starts breathing again when the seizure is over, but no parent wants to see their child stop breathing for up to a minute and a half. I swear it's the longest 90 seconds of my life.
Then, when the seizure is over, it takes him several hours to put himself back together. He'll sleep for a while, then wake up, then sleep more. Every time he wakes up, he'll be a little less confused. After his last seizure, it took about eight hours for his mental functions to return completely. I can always tell when he's back from the "land of the lost." He'll start asking what time it is, why he wasn't at school that day, why he's got a big blank spot in his memory where the previous several hours should have been.
I'm always thankful he doesn't remember the times when he has one of these spells. I think it'd scare the hell out of him.
Anyway, I'm off to check on him, possibly give more med for the fever, ask a few questions that require more than "yes" or "no", then get some sleep while I can.
Ta!
I've been wanting to get a beagle for my younger son for a while now. I've always figured their personalities would match really well. A friend of mine heard I was looking for one. He just happened to have two, and wanted to get rid of one. He gave me my choice of the two dogs. I chose the male because the female, while slightly older, is shy around people.
I spent a few days making sure the backyard was secure and picked the dog up Sunday evening. Boots and Younger Son seemed to hit things off pretty well. It took Boots all of ten minutes to find the one hole under the fence. We caught up with him easily, got him back in the yard, and fixed the hole with a couple of large rocks from my garden. Older Son mentioned a few times that he thought Boots would be able to get under the gate. I disagreed. Younger Son fed and watered his dog and went out to play with him several times during the evening. He whined a bit, but was otherwise fine. There was one howling incident during the night, but I went to the back door and scolded him a bit then left the light on by the back door. That seemed to satisfy him.
Later in the night, (more the wee hours of the morning) it started raining HARD. Apparently, Boots has an aversion to getting wet that rivals that of a cat. Boots does NOT like getting rained on. When Younger Son went out to feed him this morning, Boots was going quietly insane. He had also, somehow, gotten out of the backyard. We thought, at the time, that he'd somehow gotten the back door to the garage/workshop to open up. We made sure the gate and garage door were secure and went about our business.
I had a break during work today and came home for about an hour. When I got home, Boots was outside the fence AGAIN. This time, I put him in the garage/workshop and put a baracade of sorts in front of the front door so that he couldn't get out.
Or so I thought.
When I went out to go back to work, I checked on him and...you guessed it; he was gone. I called his name several times and he didn't show up. Sons Older and Younger were just getting home from school so I then had the oh-so-pleasant experience of telling Younger Son that Boots had run off. I had to go back to work so I couldn't stick around to look for him, but both sons were going to go around the neighborhood looking.
When I got home from work, Boots still hadn't been found. Younger Son and I got back in the car to go look. No such luck. One of the neighbors had seen him about 45 minutes before, but since she didn't know he was ours she ran him off. After an hour of looking, we've called it a night. We made sure the gate is open as well as the back door to the garage/workshop. I've fixed the front door so that there's 0% chance of escape that way. There's food out for him. The neighbors know what to do should he show up.
I've explained to Younger Son that we've done all we can. If he had his way, we'd be out in the pastures surrounding the house looking for him. Not happening. Silly dog is probably out hunting rabbits.
In the mean time, my neighbor offered me a female cocker spaniel that I've accepted. Her name is Lani and she's the prettiest strawberry blonde. The neighbor is going to hang onto her until things dry out enough for me to get out there and fix the gate, which is how I'm positive Boots has been escaping.
So now I've got Younger Son all sad and depressed because his dog of less than 24 hours has gone missing and Older Son reminding both of us that, "I TOLD you Boots could get under that gate! But did you listen to me? Nooooooo!!"
If I ever find that dog I'm going to lock him in the garage untl I get the gate fixed, then he's getting tied in the backyard for at *least* three days so that he can learn where HOME is.
ETA: Boots the Intrepid Homing-Beagle has been found. He returned to his previous home. He apparently got into one of the pastures behind my house and traveled cross-country about one mile to get there. Jeff called to let me know he'd shown up there, Younger Son and I went to get him. Now he's 100% locked in the garage/workshop until the backyard dries out enough to get out there and fix the f*cking gate.
contemplative
anxious
frustrated