Day 2235

It's taking longer and longer to get Dot ready for physical therapy. You can't rush an old dog. She likes to sleep in the morning, so it's hard to get her out of bed and put her harness on in the first place. When I take her out to pee before we get in the car, she wanders around forever, smelling everything in the yard before she finally does her business. At this point we're already five minutes late. I try my best to get her positioned comfortably, but inevitably she tries to creep towards the side window and ends up getting one of her front paws stuck in the little space between the edge of the seat and the door. When she does this I have to stop the car and re-position her before she panics and starts to struggle. At this point we're usually ten minutes late. Sometimes we avoid construction zones and traffic jams. Sometimes we don't. I wish Dot's vet made house calls. She suggested giving Dot a low dose of Xanax to reduce Dot's anxiety before we get in the car, but that would make me more anxious. I have an irrational fear of drugs like Xanax and Prozac. When I was asking the vet what Xanax does and how it would make Dot feel, the vet gave me a puzzled look and said "You've never taken a Xanax, have you?" Nope. I wish I could ask Dot what she thought about the whole thing.

Personally, I don't think drugs are a good solution for anything. Maybe this is hypocritical, since I do take meds to control blood pressure and cholesterol. These seem different than antidepressants, sedatives, and anxiety medications though. I've noticed that sedatives sometime have the opposite effect on Dash. They make him hyper and anxious. My Mom experienced terrible side effects from the antidepressants she took. I'd rather just learn to become comfortable with being depressed. Who knows. Maybe Dot does need a Xanax, but there's got to be a better way to keep her calm in the car.

The weather was nice again, but the day didn't leave much of an impression on me. I must have done something other than take Dot back and forth to the vet and clean up poop, but I be hard pressed to describe it now. Walk, eat, clean up poop, repeat. That was about it. It's anybody's guess whether trash will be picked up tomorrow after the mystery trash pickup on Wednesday. I took my can out to the street anyway, just in case. The neighbors seemed as confused as I am. There were other cans on the street, but only about half as many as usual. Probably my can will end up being run over and squashed by a piece of road paving equipment.

I didn't bother watching the presidential debate tonight. Been there, done that. Why do we need so many of these debates? Jeez, if you don't know what these guys think by now, you probably never will.

Molly is today's Dalmatian of the Day

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