-a mama, munchkin and mutt story
So our Marine (I guess I should call him our Soldier now but Marine has nice alliteration so bare with me) deployed last week. The first one for our family and the goodbyes were a little rough to say the least. But it was right in the midst of 4th of July prep so we decided to stay busy. And boy- did my little family deliver.
It started with a knock on the door. I open it and two of the girls we know from from the neighborhood were on my front porch with my dog.
How the hell did you get out? Is the gate open?!
I go to the backyard and this dog has chewed a hole through the fense and the chicken wire to escape like a raptor from Jurrasic Park. I have no skills to fix this so I quickly send a picture to my dad asking for advice. He promises to stop by later and check it out.
Okay no problem- we’ve got this!
Later we went to a picnic, had some fun swimming and ate some good food. Right before we head home, Godzilla baby starts waddling over to me like a penguin.
Me: “Baby why are you walking like that?”
Godzilla: “I was farting and it went like pshhhhhhh and then it fell out”
Me: “WHAT fell out?!”
Guys. He shat his swim trunks. SHAT IN HIS SWIM TRUNKS because his fart was not exactly the fart he had planned on. I had to hose them out in the yard because they were so gross.
Still okay. I am a strong independent woman. I can handle deployment!
But the night wasn’t over yet…
With corona all of the local townships cancelled their fireworks show. Well my neighborhood went above and beyond to make 4th of July a whole week long celebration where the fireworks never end.
My dog hates fireworks. The only thing he hates more is dealing with fireworks without my husband. He is panting and shaking like a leaf. I put his Thundershirt on, diffuse oils, put the air on for noise. Nothing works. Finally the exhaustion of the day gets to me and a decide to throw in the towel and head to bed. The dog follows me, still terrified.
He is so terrified that eventually he decides that the safest place to be in the fireworks apocalypse is underneath my bed. Now- my bed has *maybe* six inches of clearance, and my dog easily weighs 65+ pounds. My bed is not meant to be a cave him, that is why we have his kennel set up with a blanket over it. But does he want his kennel? NoOoOoO. He wants to be under my bed, where he doesn’t fit. And he’s shaking so much my entire bed is vibrating. The whole time I am desperately trying to fall asleep because I’m tired, depressed and just want the day to be over.
I really want him to stop shaking so I can sleep, but when he finally does stop shaking I still can’t sleep because I’m terrified that he gave himself a heart attack so I still have to keep checking on him. Two hours later he is calm enough to emerge from his bunker. But he’s stuck. I then have to get out of bed and lift the whole thing up in order for him to escape.
Finally. Rest for my weary soul.
Until someone decided to set off more fireworks at 1am, restarting the whole apocalypse bunker process. This time I let the vibrations of the bed rock me into a not-so-restful slumber, until he needed help escaping. Again. At 3am.
Bring it on deployment. Bring. It. On.
