Last night I was all set to write a post on being an iPhone knitter. It was to be a sweet little post about how wonderful it felt to sit on my bed, knitting a sweater, logging the rows on my StitchMinder app, checking email, reading different blogs while listening to my radiator clank and wet snow drip, dripping on the windowsill outside. Really romantic.
But now I just feel mad...at the dog (above) that I'm taking care of temporarily. Yes, I'm a foster mother to a beagle. I don't know if I should name her? She's just a canine...out of control. Ok, I requested cute little dog who doesn't bark (got that), low maintenance (not so sure about that part)...but did I know she would jump on me constantly (I hate that!)? Did I know that she basically has to go to bathroom moments after she eats? Did I even know she also leaks mere seconds after drinking water? No, no, and NO! This dog has had....four accidents in the last 48 hours. Four! I'm ready to...hurl. Yes, I'm ready to hurl. First accident was inside the crate No. 1. Accident number two, nameless pupster did number two on the kitchen tile. Number three? Combo of No. 1 and 2 in THE CRATE. Yeah, I had to wash her this morning. Yuck. Then nanoseconds after I cleaned her and inadvertently ignored the "I gotta, gotta go. Take me on a walk!" dance, she did no. 2 in the office.
For the moment, nameless puppy (she's two years old, still a toddler in her canine world) is in the crate and has been there all day. I'm not dying to let her out...only to let her jump on me. This is a roundabout way to say, maybe this dog isn't for me? Never mind I haven't had her chew anything significant in the last two days. Never mind she hasn't barfed as dogs sometimes do....I'm just ready to hit "Return to Sender." I can only cope with so many mishaps in a 24-hour cycle.
does that make me a bad foster mother?