Three Days of Illness - My Billy Goat, and I.

Today, I ventured out.

Had it really been THAT long since I had stepped outside into the vast,
     winter world,
breathing in the fresh, cold air,
squinting my eyes at the brightness of the massive,
                  cesious colored sky?

LONG ENOUGH.

As I looked up at the high-reaching, tawny-brown trees;
     their naked limbs, unprotected, beneath the pale, shapeless clouds . . .
I thought to myself,
       didn't those branches still have some of their leaves intact?

Today is WEDNESDAY,
     and the last time I left my house was FRIDAY (Christmas Eve).

Saturday, of course, was Christmas, and Sunday morning . . .

                                              BAM! 

THAT'S WHEN IT HAPPENED. 

Like an unexpected, heavy object falling from the sky.

I woke up feeling miserable.

Me, and my four boxes of tissues spent
    Sunday, Monday, AND Tuesday

                     IN BED,

watching one movie after another (after another).

   Some, good.

   Some, not so good.

During this time, my 16 month old puppy
     (who, according to the dog experts,
                                      should no longer be BEHAVING like a "puppy"),
transformed into a desperate, attention seeking "little devil",
                                      who attempted to eat all of my used-up tissues.

GROSS.  

While that could be considered a very efficient and convenient,
     as well as environmentally friendly way of disposing of the SNOT RAGS,
I am sure that, had I allowed him to consume all four boxes of tissues,
                             it would have resulted in an emergency trip to the Vet. 

Not to mention, he did not just EAT the tissues,
     he SHREDDED them,
leaving little pieces of confetti . . .

                  ALL OVER THE HOUSE.

I do not own a dog, I said to myself.

I own a billy goat.    

   

And, did I mention his constant need for "field trips" to the backyard?

AND, his constant demand for a playmate?   

Not just ANY playmate; the "chosen" one - ME.    

DID HE NOT KNOW AND UNDERSTAND        THAT I WAS SICK????

Now that I am out of bed, dressed, hair and make-up done,
     sitting upright at the table . . .
he rests, calmly, in a nearby chair. 

Oh well.

I still love the little guy.

Even thought he IS a billy goat, in disguise.  

.