A writer's day is always fragmented. Time spent procrastinating on social media and more spent figuring out how to promote on social media, time spent staring into space supposedly thinking where on earth the work in progress should go next, time spent responding to the latest demand from the publisher related to another book in final proofs (this latest a "dear reader" letter to accompany the ARCs), time writing this bi-weekly blog, and time reading another author's manuscript for a blurb. If I'm lucky, I have time to walk the dogs and talk to my friends and family.
Don't you love it when people ask "How's retirement?"
So this week started off with great intentions to get all of the above done, especially the things with deadlines. I had arrived at the cottage in late afternoon, planning to cook two lovely little beef tenderloins for myself and my sister, who was joining me for the week. Then we would sit on the dock to enjoy the sunset over the lake, share some wine, and then I would retire inside to continue reading the blurb book.
I had the table set and the food all prepped, and was down on the dock having a swim and enjoying a beer while waiting for my sister to arrive, when my dog Kenzie took off up the hill, barking furiously. By the time I got to him, he was in full tussle with a porcupine. Those of you with dogs know that the dog almost never wins. But my dog was determined, and by the time I had got him corralled and leashed, he had probably 100 quills or more in his snout and face.
This can mean a very expensive and time-consuming trip to the Kingston emergency vet hospital an hour away, which I've done with previous dogs and wanted to avoid. So I got him up on the dining table and spent some time trying to pull them out with pliers. It took a while and an increasingly frantic dog to realize this was never going to work. So I phoned the vet to alert them, phoned my sister to tell her to fend for herself when she arrived, and piled the dog into the car. I had to tie him to the back seat to prevent him climbing in front and scratching me.
The sunset, what I could see of it from the car, was spectacular. Possible the most beautiful of the summer so far. I stopped to take this photo, which really doesn't do it justice. The sky was on fire.
An hour and a half later, after some confusion about the hospital's location, I was waiting in my car in line to be seen. Kenzie was apparently the third "quill dog" the vet was seeing that night. So we had another hour and a half wait and they finally took him in at 11:30 pm. I had meanwhile grabbed a take-out fast food burrito, while thinking fondly of the steak I had planned.
The vet returned my de-quilled, slightly wobbly dog to me at 12:30 am and we began our return trip to the cottage along the dark and deserted highway. I arrived at 1:30 am, tried to persuade the dog to take his pain med with a little food (he was having none of it) and finally stumbled into bed.
Not quite the day I had planned. And all those things on my to-do list are still there, except this blog, which is thankfully done!
I too once got a good essay out of the experience with our quilled dog! Lemons to lemonade!
ReplyDeleteSending get-well wishes to Kenzie and hoping you can enjoy some relaxing time with your sister another day. Being a good pet mom definitely comes before work deadlines. That's the philosophy in my house.
ReplyDeleteAnd in mine, Tanya. But now I have to worry about him seeking revenge. Thank you for your get-well wishes. So far it's a lovely day today!
ReplyDeleteOuch! Poor Kenzie. Fabby sunset, though.
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