a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

“You know, Hobbes, some days even my lucky rocket ship underpants don't help.” – Bill Watterson

 

When my kids were little they liked a book called Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, by Judith Viorst. My kids liked it so much they asked me to read it over and over again. I hadn’t thought of that book for years until last week, when I had one of the worst terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days I’ve had in a long time.  

 

It started with helping a sick, sad, broken old dog with a sweet spirit die a good death. The dog was not mine; she’d been abandoned after her owner died. The poor soul sat by her lady’s body for three days until the death was discovered, then ended up at animal control. She was a very thin, very small Chow mix - deaf, blind and barely able to walk due to arthritis. All black, except for her white muzzle, this dog was clearly a very old girl, fallen on very hard times. And, she had the saddest, most bewildered look on her face – like, “Where have I ended up…and why?”

 

Once she could be released from animal control, I took her to the vet, who agreed that the kindest thing for this old girl would be to help her over “the rainbow bridge” as animal people say. Honey Bear, as I called her – no one knew her name - seemed to like the car ride. She even smiled a bit and thumped her tail, as she sniffed the air from the open window and rested on a blanket.

 

Our stop for a sausage biscuit really got her old sniffer going and we had a nice picnic together – actually she ate the whole biscuit slowly, but quite enthusiastically – sitting next to me on her blanket in the shade outside the vet’s office. She didn’t seem to mind the exam, which was quick and also on the blanket in the shade. Then, I asked them to leave Honey Bear and I outside for a while longer, as she seemed to be enjoying the sun and the wind and the gentle pats on her head.

 

She fell asleep with her head in my lap and her passage over the rainbow bridge was a quick and peaceful one. It comforted me to think that her last hour was spent calm, happy and loved. One of the things I like most about dogs is the way they live in the moment, from moment to moment. I like to think all Honey Bear remembered, as she slipped across that rainbow bridge to meet her lady on the other side, was how good that sausage biscuit tasted and how nice it was to feel safe again.

 

As I left the vet’s office, the thought of Honey Bear and her lady walking together again, neither of them limping, both finally pain free, helped me through my good long cry…

 

Fast forward a few hours and I’m headed into Hill’s Ace Hardware for a few things to complete a project. For some reason, thankfully, I looked down and noticed that my shirt was on wrong side out – white tags sticking out rather obviously on the sides, the back of my shirt proclaiming its brand and size. A quick trip back to the car for a shirt reversal, crouched down low in the back seat, had me corrected and in I went. I was glad I noticed the wrong-side-out shirt, as Hill’s is one of those places you’re sure to run into several people you know, no matter time of day you’re shopping.

Note to self: turn clothes right-side-out as I take them from the dryer and maybe spend less time at animal control helping out and getting my heart broken…

 

A few hours later it was time to walk the dogs. I usually take them to Ft. Yargo for a good run, which involves loading them all up in the car. We had no longer set out, when I heard the ominous sound of a dog vomiting. I pulled over into the nearest parking lot, which happened to be a bank where a crew of landscapers was busy at work.

 

I’m usually okay with pet clean-up, but the sight of a whole bird and some other assorted things, barfed up in the back of my car got the best of me. I got the bird cleaned up, but then found myself barfing on the other side of the car door. It was so hot and I felt so sick and humiliated and still sad that I just drove away, without cleaning up after myself.

 

I’m sorry landscapers, I’m having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.     

 

I ended the day with a glass of wine. My only criteria for that wine was that the bottle had a screw cap because I had no energy left, not even for something as simple as using a cork screw…I know these are First World problems that only a person with a very blessed life would bother to talk about, but sometimes even in a very blessed life there is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.