Have I mentioned that I hate Tuesdays?

For whatever reason, Tuesdays are always especially difficult for the b-dog. And as a result, they are very difficult for the other two non-canine residents of this home. B started to act a little funny yesterday afternoon (after a long day of sleeping) and it just seemed to go downhill over the course of the evening. In honor of the recently departed Leslie Nielsen, I felt this clip aptly depicts how I felt long about 4:00 this morning (the good times travelled into Wednesday):





So I should start with the good news that he slept from around 8:30 in the evening to 2:30 in the morning. Then he started crying. I went down, helped him up, and got him some snacks. I also let him outside for a potty break and then got him to lay back down. That didn't last long. I should mention here that the acoustics in our house are phenomenal. Probably has something to do with the size. Either way, when he's up and walking, all you hear is a constant creaking and clicking of the claws. I am thinking of shipping him to Guantanamo as a torture device. All you hear is click/scrape...scrape/click...nonstop. Until he stops. Then you worry why he stopped. So I got up and checked and sure enough, christmas came early in the form of an accident on our newly steam cleaned kitchen tile floors (FYI, grout is a like a sponge for pee. now you know. though this was not pee). Clean that up and lay on the couch while he circles me like a furry, clicking landshark. Finally he lays down and I head upstairs, circa 3:15. It's then that the heartburn sets in. So I pop some tums, lay back down and I guess he fell asleep because I didn't hear any movement until around 4-ish, when I heard the click, click, scrape, pee noise. I then sent Ricker down, because I was beginning to lose my mind at this point. While I was listening to my dutiful husband clean up the pee, I rubbed my eyes in preparation for sleep when I must have gotten something lodged back by my optic nerve. I then had to get up and flush my eye out while Rick remained downstairs.

I finally drifted off to sleep around 5:30, only to be startled back awake by what can only be described as the squirrel version of WWE right outside our window. That kept up to varying degrees until I decided to just give up and get on with the day. I will spend the remainder of today avoiding bear traps and wet paint and hoping things improve tonight.