Tales

I've been gone.
Sorry.
These days turn
churn and hurry.

Mornings burn
through fog
stumbling out to pee
(Scout, not me)

Breakfast is just
Cheerios, eggs, vitamin pills
and still takes two kids a total of 80+ minutes to eat
the puppy hoovers everything that's dropped
but eats nothing from his untouched bowl
I give him treats so he can keep growing

I know I'm an irresponsible "dog caregiver."
(It doesn't help anything that I've taken to referring to myself as "mama.")

I steal glimpses of the city as I drop the kids off
I wear my work clothes as a harness
so I'll get to work
(and leave the puppy in his little gated room for at least a few hours)

all alone :/.
And it's not really a room,
just the entryway,
but it's bright and airy,
and nicer than a crate.

And every time I get home he's quiet and fast asleep
but skooched as close
as he can to the gate
and the latch where my hand lingered last* (pictorial footnote below)

He doesn't like his leash and is constantly trying to bite through it
so he mostly runs around without one
so when we're outside I'm doing a lot of puppy carrying
--away from the mellow (bigger) dogs across the street
(who are the enemy--at least according to our young whippersnapper)
and also, he likes to run into the river.
We need a fence to keep him safe
and more cash to make that happen.

I thought Scout was going to sleep by himself at night
so I could get some time when I wasn't being constantly adored me time
yet he ends up in our bedroom every night
because he just sleeps better that way
(otherwise, he feels abandoned?
or may be he's afraid of the dark?)

TL; DR: The puppy's kind of taking over my life

_


* pictorial footnote

I took this picture through the front door

--and perhaps that explains the beautifully surreal reflection on the closet door.