It wasn’t even noon today and I’d already had what you might call a meltdown. I felt extremely tired yesterday and my chest hurt, which freaked me out a little, and I only felt okay when I was mellowing out before going to bed, while watching television and forcing myself not to think about anything in particular. (Trust me, that takes effort. At any given moment my mind is often thinking about two to umpteen things at a time. Lately, it’s Am I breathing? combined with Why me? garnished liberally with This sucks.) Before turning in, I took Gypsy out one last time and it was then that I realized how much energy one little dog was causing me to expend. I’m not fast enough to chase after her, because I can’t run, so it’s difficult to keep an eye on her and correct her when she’s getting into something she shouldn’t. It takes a lot of energy and breath support to be loud and authoritative, and my breath support is compromised right now. Even controlling her on a leash was tiring. Gypsy and Rex together…too much too soon.
When we were back inside my apartment Gypsy pranced and danced at my feet until we were upstairs and she spotted a sleeping Rex in the distance. Knowing what was about to happen, I protested as loudly as I could, but she ignored me and pounced on Rex, trying to get him to play with her. Rex, however, wanted no part of her foolishness and made this known by grabbing her neck and pinning her head to the floor, growling menacingly. I’d never seen him act like that with another dog before, and it was very scary. It was an obvious alpha dog/superiority gesture, and I had a feeling he hadn’t hurt her. I calmly told him to stop it and slipped between them sideways, carefully nudging him away with the backside of my body. It worked. He went away and I inspected every inch of Gypsy, looking for broken skin. Nothing. She was fine. She wriggled in my grasp, as if to say, That was fun! Where did he go? As if. I crated her and went to bed.
This morning I felt better, but I still had to admit to myself that I didn’t have the energy and stamina necessary to offer an untrained pup like Gypsy. I contacted Rex’s attorney, told her I’d jumped the gun, and apologized for making a hasty decision to foster another dog too soon after my operation. She replied to let me know Happy Tails was expecting Gypsy back and not to worry about it. Before I took her back, I held Gypsy for a good half hour and cried. Having the will and compassion to help a dog in need and physically being unable to is a heart wrenching horrible feeling. I also felt angry, too. While I was crying my nose got stuffed up and then I could barely breathe. I tried to sob and almost choked. I couldn’t even cry right. Pathetic.
After I brought Gypsy back to Happy Tails I got a cafe mocha from Starbucks to make me feel better. Didn’t work.