Owning a dog

I'm not of the group that thinks that you don't "own" a dog. I believe I do. But my dog is unbelievably neurotic--more on that later. Meanwhile, I've just started a part-time job that has me on my feet for my entire shift: tough on my arthritic hips and all those other joints above, below and in any remote way involved in locomotion. So.

I came home from a 7-hr. shift (six plus a 1-hr. break) and my feet & legs were killing me. I came in the door at about 8:20 p.m. and wanted to feed Holly-dog immediately, since I'd been gone since about 9:30 a.m. (extended office hours for my LIB105 students that day--and I actually had students up through 12:00!). Poor Holly had had diarrhea, and I, not realizing this, stepped into it right inside the door. So of course I tracked it through the kitchen a bit. Caught it and then cleaned from about 8:30 until after 10 p.m. Holly was, of course, mortified. But I let her know I wasn't mad and she seemed to pick up on that. But sheesh, this part-time job stuff seemed to be a big mistake after that! Not really. I'll come home if I have to, to let her out. it was just really really tiring to have to come home and clean, with bleach and Spic 'n' Span and paper towels and carpet cleaner, etc., etc.

I know why I've never lived alone.