It's tax day in the US today. Mom, Dad, did you get my taxes to Mr. Taylor? Hope so...and I hope I don't owe anything...maybe I'll actually get a refund this time!
Today's plan is to clean house. I know I said that on Monday, but I haven't really done much since then. I did clean the den yesterday, sort of...it's weird because I feel like I'm cleaning someone else's house and I don't know where things should be put away. It's also weird how I felt totally at home here when I used to just be visiting, but I don't feel that way now. Keighley used to hold a certain charm in my eyes before...and now that I'm here without a regularly scheduled departure that charm has faded a bit. I used to think it cool how Simon could go out in his back garden and see his neighbors in the row of houses across the alley/street/whatever it is...now I feel like I'm being watched when I'm in the kitchen. That sort of thing. I'm sure it will get better.
I'm working through a lot of guilt over Jeany's death. The first and most obvious point is that I am still wondering if I'd never moved here would she still be alive? If Simon had moved to the US, would we still have three greyhounds?
The second point is that she could stand up before we took that taxi ride to the vet...so I'm pretty sure that the way that idiot zoomed around corners, throwing my baby girl around in the back like a sack of potatoes, is how her back leg got dislocated. I'm not sure if that's guilt or anger; probably both, to be honest. If we had known about the animal ambulance or if we'd waited until someone with a car could have taken us, she would most likely still be alive, albeit with only three legs. I'm not sure I will EVER get over that one.
First and second run together for me...I knew that Simon didn't have a car and doesn't drive. I knew that there wasn't a vet anywhere near where we would be living. I probably could have surmised that most of the taxi drivers here are of a certain religious group that doesn't permit contact with dogs, therefore they wouldn't be as careful with a dog if they would even pick one up at all. (The ambulance driver told me he'd seen a taxi driver pick up someone with a hurt dog and put the dog in the TRUNK.) I knew that Simon's stairs were steep. I knew all these things, and yet in my typical selfish way I went ahead with moving over here because I needed to be with my husband. I'm just not sure I can forgive myself that Jeany had to pay for my selfishness the way she did.
Some things have gone right, though...we are getting great deals on the dogs' food at Leeds Market. Mills is the happiest I've seen him in ages. I have a roof over my head, heat, clean water, working plumbing...I should be thankful for those things and stop being such a snob about the state of Simon's house (no dishwasher, no dryer, etc). Maybe that's what I'll work on today...if I can ever get off the sofa.
The I Can't Even face. Y'all. How is it that things can go from zero to one hundred so fast when I'm not anywhere near where...
Granted, I have already published all of those books in the Proud Racer and Clobberpaws series about my dogs, but this little baby here is...
#nofilter #goodhairday Yep, that hashtag in the title means what you think it means. But that's not what I want to talk about today....