SANAFU: Situation abnormal, all fucked up. Or what my name would have been today if I was an anime character.
What a day, what a doggie debacle. My dear pal Spill had offered to help out my fam and take care of my parents’ dog, Duffy, for a week while Dad’s in the hospital and Mom is getting a brief respite from her exhausting life as a caregiver to a very ill person. Spill lives down the street from me here in the West Village and was psyched at the prospect of having a pup around for a bit. (Her own beloved pooch died very recently.)
I was psyched that I could take him for walks and runs along the river and possibly meet some guys (black labs are dude magnets, aren’t they?). Spill had also lived through the grueling long-term illness of her own Mom … so this seemed like a nice thing that she could do to do to help friends (and a pup) in need. Well, we gave it two nights, but Duff wasn’t down with the whole situation. He was totally restless, terrorizing Spill’s cat (odd given the fact that he had grown up with cats) spazzing out non-stop and marking territory, namely by pissing on Spill’s bed.
Clearly it was untenable for him to stay. I live in a very small studio apartment with a cat, so there was no way I could host him here. I called around to places here in the city to see if we could board him but they required papers with proof of inoculation, none of which I had on the ready. My brother gave me the name of a place in NJ where he and his wife boarded their dog a few weeks ago. Thankfully they were less formal with the paperwork and were actually a vet’s office that doubled as a boarding place. The challenge was getting Duff out there on a weeknight. I went to reserve a Zipcar and was shut out because my driver’s license expired on my birthday. Fuck. Spill generously lent me her Lexus SUV. Drives like a dream but of course I was nervous as hell driving it, mindful of the sweetness of the ride and my expired license. I had to leave work earlier than I would have during such a busy time in order to get there before the place closed at 8. Just as I was getting close, around 7PM, the vet called me to say they were out doing a housecall and couldn’t admit Duff until 9 PM.
So I drove over to Bro Bri’s to stall for 2 hours. Wouldn’t be a problem except for the fact that Gus (Bri’s dog) and Duff were going apeshit. We were trying to get the Nudger down to sleep and it was a crazy ruckus. Whining, wimpering, bolting and jolting. Ceasar Milan would have had his work cut out for him. The bonus in all of this is that I snuck in a visit with Bri, Ali and Liam, who is now pulling himself up to stand. I even got to give him his bottle tonight.
I finally got Duff over to the vet and was relieved that they took him in spite of my lack of intimacy with the dog (What kind of food does he eat? Dunno. Does he have Flea Guard? Dunno. Does he have a microchip? No idea.). Blasted music on my way back, a sweet mix that K made me for my birthday and this song was my anthem:
An hour and a half later, with guidance from a kind dude in a golf cart who took pity on me with my lame Lexus wandering, I awkwardly navigated my way back to Spill’s parking spot at Pier 40. There I was exhausted, beat down, covered in baby drool and doggie slobber, walking up the West Side Highway late at night with a big frown on my face when some dude in a passing car yelled out the window: “Hey lady, get over it!”