Oh, yeah. I got the flu.
So instead of spending the weekend working the ponies, pulling manes, and just generally enjoying the sunshine, I was laying on my chaise, wrapped in blankets having an epic movie marathon/nap time.
The poodles were all for it for about the first two hours. Bacon was characteristically concerned for me and took up his post as my protector, keeping watch should anyone try to intervene on my convalescence. Tempi heaved a huge sigh and curled up on my legs.
Of course, unlike Bacon, Tempi is just not the cuddling kind of girl. Her patience for sickness is even shorter than my own (of course, I was still moping in self pity and hacking up what was left of my lung) and in no time at all (or so it seemed to me) she was squeaking her squeaky tennis ball and pushing it at me to try to entice me into a rejuvenating game of fetch. I was not amused and curled even deeper into a ball of self pity. Even then, Bacon didn't abandon his post curled above my hip. He believes that positive thinking and cuddling are all a person needs to get better.
If only those poodles knew how to brew tea, make soup and do the dishes, we'd have been set.
Instead, there is a mound of dirty soup bowls and tea mugs sitting by my sing waiting for me when I get home today, along with two hyper active poodles who spent the weekend watching Disney movies and old action movies (come on, who doesn't like a little vintage Will Smith?)
|"I coulda been at a barbeque!"|
|"Faster, Must go faster!"|
So now that I'm back up on my feet and moving back at 80% efficiency I have to focus on getting Ponita Uno up to shape for the Ken Borden Jr clinic in less than three weeks. No sweat, right?
Anyone have a weed whacker handy to get her mane to a manageable thickness? No? Darn.