Feeling Like I Always Mess Something Up

I wrote earlier about the Halloween party and how Isaac knocked over a dish of candy corn by wagging his big happy tail.  But I didn't really explain how much that upset me.

I want to make it clear that I'm not upset with Isaac.  Isaac was so good at that party.  I'd been a bit worried because he is used to being in the common area of that building when he's not working, not in his vest, and he is used to seeing our neighbors when he is not working, not in his vest.  In fact, many of our neighbors have never seen Isaac in his vest.  I think a couple of them saw him the day I came to look at the apartment for the first time, and Isaac was with me, and in his vest then.  But he doesn't wear the vest in our building, normally.  Most of the time, I keep it in the car.  Since Isaac is used to being off duty when he sees those people, and is used to running up to great some of them quite enthusiastically, I was a bit worried he'd want to act like that when he saw them at the party.

But he didn't.  He gave them his big goofy doggie smile, and his happy tail was wagging like crazy, but he didn't try to climb in one single person's lap.  He did not try to nuzzle anyone's ears.  I could see he was happy and excited to see people he likes, but he stayed calm and professional.  He was even good when the person sitting next to me tried to feed him a bite of a cookie and I told her not to and she took it away at the last second.  Oh, he looked a bit disappointed, and he gave her the sad puppy eyes to try to make her change her mind, but he didn't whine, he didn't beg, he didn't stick his head in her lap and get up to try to sniff at what was on the table.  He was so good.

And it's not his fault he knocked the candy dish off the table.  That was my fault.  I should have been paying more attention.  I should have moved the candy dish or else had Isaac move so that his tail was safely away from things he could knock over.

But I was so embarrassed.  I was so mad at myself.  I'd worked really hard to have things go well for the party.  I put so much thought and effort into Isaac's custom, and I know it looks like a really simple costume, and it was simple to make.  But I thought really hard about how to make a costume that would be cute but also be comfortable for  him to move in.  I wanted it to feel to him like wearing his service dog vest so that he would be in "work mode" when he was wearing it.  I didn't want anything that would feel awkward or uncomfortable to him, because I didn't want him to act weird because he felt weird in his costume.  I tried it on him several times, made alterations, tried it on again.  Yesterday I cut his toenails and brushed him so he'd be nicely groomed for the party.

And things were off to such a great start.  We went in, found a place to put our cookies on the snack table, greeted a few people, found someone to snap a picture of us.  Isaac was behaving beautifully.  And then I messed up by not noticing the dish of candy.

I feel like things never go right because I always end up making stupid mistakes.

The fact that I worked so hard to make things go well is probably pathetic because it should not be that hard to prepare for a stupid Halloween party.  But it did take a lot of work for me.  And even with all that work, I couldn't get through the first 15 minutes without messing something up.

I am anxious and depressed.  I just took some more anxiety meds and I'm going to try a hot bath and then go to bed.  I had some writing to get done tonight but I don't think that is going to happen.  I'm too anxious and depressed to concentrate.

Halloween Party

Isaac and I went to the Halloween party my apartment complex had this afternoon.  I was kind of excited about it, which I guess just goes to show I need to get a life.  Yesterday, I make four dozen pumpkin spice oatmeal cookies to take to the party to share.  They were yummy.  I ate a few last night.  I wanted to take something to the party that was low enough in sugar that I could actually eat it.  I had suggested to the apartment manager that perhaps they should have some sugar free treats, because many of the people that live here are elderly and I bet some are diabetic, but I didn't think they were actually going to listen to me and I guess they didn't.  They had told me there would be Chex mix, which there was, and a cheese ball and crackers, which there was not, but I was glad I took something I could actually eat.

I was excited about Isaac's costume.  I think it turned out so cute.  I had to make a few alterations to it yesterday.  I had initially planned to attach the cow costume to his service dog vest with double-sided tape but that seemed to come off too easily when Isaac lay down or wiggled around.  So I sewed two little loops to the front corners of the cow costume, and the put the front straps of his service dog vest through those loops, so I didn't have to mess with the tape.  It worked really well.

Here's a picture of us together.  I have to add that I think I look terrible in this picture.  I think I look old and haggard.  But Isaac looks cute.

Isaac was really good at the party.  He lay down under the table, until the woman in the nun costume next to me tried to feed him a bite of a cookie.  Then he kept trying to wiggle his way closer to her, lifting his head to give her his sad, starving, puppy dog eyes.  But he was good.

When we first got there, there was this dish of candy corn on a low table.  Isaac wanted to sniff it but I told him to leave it and he did.  Then, a minute later, his big strong happily-wagging tail smacked the dish of candy and sent it flying.  I was so embarrassed.  It wasn't Isaac's fault, I should have noticed that the candy dish was in range of his tail and had him move.  Isaac was so good he didn't even try to sniff the candy that was all over the floor while I was crawling around, picking it up.  But it made me feel really self-conscious and anxious.

Other than that, the party was OK.  And everyone thought Isaac was adorable.

Woman Abusing Dog at Dog Park

Monday I took Isaac to the dog park.  The one nearest my home.  Often we are the only ones there, but that day, there was a woman, a man, and two kids there, with three other dogs.  Two were small dogs, but they had them in the "big dog" section.  The third dog was a big dog and the woman had him on a leash.  When Isaac and I went in, she said he was on a leash because "didn't know how he was with other dogs."  Well, if you don't know if your dog is friendly with other dogs, why would  you bring him to a dog park?  Duh.

Of course, her dog wanted to run around with the other dogs off leash.  So he was barking.  A lot.  And she didn't want him to bark.  So she was screaming, "Shut the fuck up!" at him.  And smacking him.  In the head.  Over and over and over again.

I was shocked.  I was horrified.  I've seen  people give their dogs a smack before.  But not over and over and over again and not in the head.  It was horrible.  And the man and the two kids were just sitting there like nothing was happening.

I thought about asking her to quit hitting her dog.  I thought about pointing out that cussing at and hitting a dog isn't the best way to get him to stop barking.  I figured she probably didn't want my advice, though.


I ended up getting Isaac and leaving after just a few minutes.  I couldn't stand to be there, watching her hit her dog.  Even if I didn't look, I couldn't stand hearing her scream at him over and over again.

On the way out of the dog park, I looked at the sign posted at the entrance with the park rules, hoping it had a phone number for the Humane Society or something with it.  I wanted to call someone to report the woman abusing her dog but I didn't know who to call.  There was a number for the county dog warden, so after Isaac and I were safely in the car, I called that number.  The guy I talked to seemed unsure about whether or not I was supposed to report animal abuse to him or not, but he took the information and said he would check with his boss about what to do about it.  I hope they went out to investigate.  I did not stick around to find out, though.  I wanted out of there.

I was really upset and anxious.  I took some anxiety meds and drove home and gave Isaac a big pork skin roll chew-thing.  I feel so bad for that dog.

Soda Bottles

Have I ever mentioned how Isaac loves plastic soda bottles?  He likes water bottles, too, but they seem to be made from thinner plastic in many cases and don't last him quite as long, champion chewer that he is.  He loves the 16 ounce single-serving bottles and two liter bottles.  You'd think he had no toys whatsoever, the way he gets so excited over a soda bottle, chewing it and throwing it and catching it.  He adores them.

My neighbors think it's hilarious to watch him play with one.  Many of them have taken to saving their soda bottles for Isaac.  They leave their empty soda bottles in the hall outside my door sometimes.  When a new guy moved into the building, more than one neighbor informed him that he was supposed to save his soda bottles for Isaac.

It's a bit of a problem when Isaac spots one of my neighbors drinking a soda and wants the bottle before they are finished with their drink.  He seems to expect them to pour out their drink so he can have the bottle right away.  Of course, the fact that one of my neighbors actually did that a couple times probably encouraged him to expect that.

Isaac and I just came in from our before-bed potty outing and found three soda bottles outside the door.  I put two away for later and Isaac quickly chewed up the other.  Now he is lying on his blankie, snuggling it.

Storing Medications

I recently heard a sad story about a woman whose service dog got a bottle of prescription medication off the kitchen counter, managed to open it, and ate about 90 pills.  I'm not sure what the medication was, but 90 pills were not good for the dog.  The dog's owner rushed him to the vet and after several days of veterinary care, and several thousand dollars, I'm sure, the dog is recovering at home and will probably make a full recovery.  He may have some lifelong kidney problems, they aren't sure yet.

This dog had never gotten anything off the counter before.  He'd retrieved prescription medication bottles for his handler but never chewed on them or shown any interest in doing so.  She doesn't have any idea why he decided to get this bottle off the counter and chew it open and eat the pills.

This story worried me.  I keep medications in a few different places.  Most of my medications, including prescriptions, over-the-counter meds, vitamins, and herbal stuff, are in my linen closet.  I have a small supply of meds to be taken as needed in my purse, which is normally on my kitchen counter.  There are some pain meds and anxiety meds in a small vinyl bag on top of an end table in my living room, which is what Isaac fetches for me when I need him to do that.  Then there is about a one-week supply of meds and vitamins sorted into one of those weekly pill containers that have little boxes for each day of the week, which I'd been keeping on my coffee table.  The meds on the coffee table are what I worried about when I heard the story of the service dog that ate the prescription meds off the kitchen counter.

I'd been keeping them on the coffee table because I take pills from that container three or four times a day.  It needs to be within easy reach so I don't put off taking them or forget to take them.  When I first got Isaac almost a year ago, I was careful to keep meds out of his reach.  But he never bothers them.  Isaac never counter surfs.  He never chews anything that is not a toy meant to be chewed by him.  He's never chewed a single shoe.  If I drop a bottle of pills, he picks it up for me and gives it to me with no interest in playing with it or chewing it.  Sometimes if he picks up something like a sock, he gives it a playful little shake, but not pill bottles.  Never, not in a whole year.

That's what the owner of the service dog that ate the pills thought, though.  She thought her pills were OK on the kitchen counter.  Then her dog almost died.

I decided I cannot keep pills on the coffee table anymore.  I have a plastic container, about the size and shape of a picnic basket, that holds craft supplies.  I keep whatever craft I am currently working on in it and keep it beside the couch.  I put the pills in that container.  I imagine Isaac could knock the lid off the container and get to the pills if he tried hard enough, but I think they are safe enough in there.  It's not like when they were just sitting on the coffee table where he could grab them, or knock them off wagging his big tail, and then decided to snack on them.

Those of you that have dogs, do you store medications out of their reach?