She was in the throes of some kind of evil blood-pressure-yoyo virus for the past week or so, and preferred peace and quiet all around. So no Sunday dinner, no visits and no spoiling the pets.
But today, we went. I had to talk to her about possibly working for her, and I wanted to be generally sure
The guys watched someone get peppersprayed in the face on television and then comment on the experience, then compare it to being tazered. Occasionally, I used Boyfriend's
So I am going to bury myself in the job market. I'm going to send e-mails to embassies. I probably will even translate my CV to German and let someone with more experience read it through before I start using it. I will study manicure and nail modellage online and in huuuge binders J. has lying around. On Monday, I can come and look around at how the salon works for an entire day and ask annoying questions. I have no idea what I'm going to wear. I'm already exhausted, though that might also be because it's late and I've finally regained a normal day rythm that has me thinking bedtime was an hour ago, no matter what Boyfriend says.
Oh, and I was once again reminded why I am in favor of illegalising smoking worldwide and in all situation. W. smokes, and I was raised to not give one peep about people smoking in their own homes, so I sat through it quietly. Eventually, my lungs believed the lie that I didn't need that much oxygen in the air I was breathing, but the longer I sat there, the more my eyes were making me think I have a serious cat allergy. I also get the same symptom of AAAARGGGGHHHH!!! EYES ON FIRE!!!! when I sit in W.'s car for too long without fresh air, and he doesn't let the cats in there. Oh, and I have a marvellous headache. Thank you, nicotine addiction. Nothing quite says 'normal human habit' than having those not regularly exposed to it want to install an eye shower in the bathroom for after visits to those indulging.
Then there was the 'welcome to nighttime Coburg' talk. There were stabbings, beatings, drugs and gay bashings galore. They all circled around people who like going to parties, bars and discotheques. I don't drink and I don't party, but I didn't get a chance to point that out. I am, however, now half-scared to walk down to McDonald's after dark. I'm sure the drop in McFlurrys and McChicken burgers to my diet will be beneficiary for my weight, health and bank balance, but I'm not quite grateful. I like my weekly one day of fast-food. It makes it easier to choose fruit over chips in the grocery store.
And then there were the fuzzies. J. has figured out I'm more of a dog person than a cat person (mostly because I don't get cats and their apparent indifference to being trapped by people they don't really seem to care about), but was still baffled when I wouldn't pet (read: reward) her favorite dog after practically shoving another one off the sofa. I can live with dogs being allowed on the sofa, even though I wouldn't do it that way. I can live with other people liking and keeping smaller dogs. But no one is going to tell me I have to follow the every whim of two pounds of fur with an ego problem. Now, I am being harsh, and I normally love Cindy (Cindy being the two pounds of fur), but Leon, the dog I was petting and that Cindy chased off, was finally warming up to me and then she stole my moment of victory, so I'm a little pissed at her tonight.
Also, Leon has the unique ability among the In-Law pet household of understanding a few commands. They all understand 'come', 'food' and 'outside', but Leon actually makes connections to getting cuddled when I go 'sit' and he sits, or say 'paw' and he puts his paw in my hand. He's not brilliant at it, but compared to Mousy and Cindy, he's 'Leon, Pet Wonder!'. Mousy understands you want something from her, but she's old and arthritic and has never had to listen in her life, so she just sort of stares at you while she tries to breathe. Cindy, the runt and darling of the litter, has been conditioned to respond to attention with 'adorable' behavior, and demand attention when she's not getting any. You don't get any of her obedient attention, either, like Mousy can at least show you. I know I'm probably mostly pissy because my head hurts, my throat is scratchy and my eyes are only slowly cooling down, but I know that even when I'm my normal self, I prefer dogs behave in a way that is acceptable for all sizes. A Great Dane or Bordeaux Dog bulldozing into your legs or shoving at people you're talking to until you pet it isn't cute, it's dangerous. I don't see why smaller dogs should get away with it.
Cindy was adorable at first. The fact that she doesn't understand 'no' made the cuteness wear off quite fast. Even Tim, an elkhound with a similar people strategy as Cindy, listened when you told him to shove off. He'd try again ten minutes later, but he was never agressive in his approach. He'd been taught to be the doggy version of polite because he's bred to tear out an elk's throat and weighs ten to twenty times what Cindy does. I just don't see why Cindy gets a pass to misbehave.
The cats are similar. One's well-behaved, if half-shaven most of the time, the other happily goes wherever it wants and destroys a leather couch that probably once was worth as much as small car. Yes, the destructive one is the more streamlined and easthetically pleasing of the pair.
I want a dog that I'll have trouble tripping over. One that has an inkling about what a leash is and is willing to trade obedience for cuddles and treats.
I managed to be polite enough to keep my opinions about how pets should behave to myself. I've been raised to be respectful towards elders who deserve it, and J. and W. are amazing people. They raised two great children, the youngest of which I claimed as My Man. They're willing to help me, a virtual stranger, for no other reason than that I make their son happy and mind my P's and Q's, and despite the fact that I occasionally have sushi on my lobe plugs and a stud in my nose. They regularly invite me and Boyfriend over, not just to their home, but to events they think we might enjoy. They look out for people they care about, they rescue animals from shelters and give people a chance.
I could have ended up in much worse places than this. What's a little smoke and a tiny dog with a non-agressive attitude problem compared to that?
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