Things Happen

Things happen. Roll with it.
Things happen. Roll with it. I did. 

I’m not good with the phrase: “things happen.” I don’t like variables. I’m a planner and things happening mess up my plans. Let me give you an example: When our new puppy has to go out and do his business he has a designated spot. Everyone in the house abides by this rule. Except of course, the puppy who sometimes decides he’s going and he’s going right now and too bad we’re not near his spot. He’s a dog. Things happen. I need to roll with it. Here’s what I can’t roll with. Cleaning up his mess. Now why do you think I clean up after this puppy? So no one will step in it since they won’t know to look because he went in a place we said wasn’t okay and so my entire yard isn’t a toilet.

Well, guess what happened to me? And at the one time I accidentally wore my best sneakers. It wasn’t until I was already outside with the puppy that I realized in my absent-minded way I’d even put those sneakers on. I must have confused taking the dog out with taking the kids to the bus. I’m always taking someone somewhere, but I digress.

Now I have to throw my sneakers in the garbage because even an OCD cleaner like me has limits. It’s a shame, I like those sneakers, but they are a year and half old. I’ve probably walked enough miles in them they can’t do their job well anymore. This is really an excuse to go out and buy a new pair of sneakers.

The Noodges will tell me the sneakers are a fair trade for the dog. I guess they could be right. And let’s face it. Things happen. 


7 thoughts on “Things Happen

  1. We had a Great Dane who chewed sheetrock–IDK how he started, but he managed. He also tore up his foam mattress and ate the insulation off the water heater. Ironically enough, it was the Dane before him who died at 16 months b/c of stomach issues.

    I’m bad with letting go of sneakers too. I might have hand washed/soaked the shoes first then tossed them in the washer for good measure, lol. I’m sure you’ve earned that new pair 🙂

    1. Sheetrock? Oh boy. I’m not sure I could handle that. I’m impressed you had a Great Dane. My German shepherd puppy will be 85 pounds someday. We’re going to be about the same size. LOL! The sneakers are still on the back porch waiting for me to put them in the garbage. This is my mourning period.

      1. We had two Danes. LOVED them. Talk about a presence in the house. When my brother and his wife bought their home, it HAD to be accessible to Kazue, whose hips were horrid with arthritis. At my mom’s, where they lived the first year they were married, my brother would CARRY that 150-lb creature up/down 7 steps so that he could go out. Now that’s love.

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