“Man proposes, but God disposes,” goes the proverb. For example, Man has a certain way he planned Saturday, but instead the dog crapped the crate overnight.
I have no idea why Minnie did that. She was in there no longer than usual, had nothing unusual to eat before she went in.
I dragged the crate outside, washed everything down, went to PetCo to buy a new crate because I couldn’t figure out how to get the cover off the old one, laundered her bedding, and got everything assembled again in my office in time to put her to bed again.
I also stopped off at the drugstore and got a haircut. My hair was almost long enough to need combing, and I hate for it to get that long. I was a longhair when that was fashionable and I had enough hair for it to be a good look for me. But now my hair has receded enough that the only thing that looks good on me is a No. 2 cut or shorter. And I like the convenience of hair short enough to not need combing.
When I came into my office Sunday morning to let Minnie out again I led nose-first, as I did back when she was a pup and we were still figuring out how to crate-train her. The air in my office smelled nice and clean. No repeat of Friday night’s mishap – yay! The air was cleaner and fresher than it usually is, actually; even before her mishap that crate was overdue for washing out. She hasn’t soiled it in a couple of years before this weekend, but the crate and the area around it were very full of shed dog components.
In the process of dragging the crate in and out of the office, I wrenched my back, so I had some trouble bending over Sunday. The slouched position in which I usually sit on the sofa certainly didn’t help. On the other hand, the tall stool I sometimes sit on when I’m at my standing desk is fantastic for my back. As I write this, it’s Sunday night. I seem to be mostly improved now, if not entirely well.
And now I can wear flip-flops, which pleases me.