The Great Escape
Every year, so I have been told, I get a year older. It’s a pretty meaningless contruct in every way except for the obvious marking of the passage of time. I feel the same every birthday, the same as the year before, not one lick older. Basically, I have never felt like a Grown Up.
Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m doing a lot of grown up things because I’m supporting myself, have worked at the same company for ten years, pay bills, file taxes, have a mortgage, all that. But I’ve always felt like I was doing these things while being outside of the realm of adulthood.
To celebrate my 34th birthday a couple of weeks ago, I took a couple of days off from work and did many fun things. I got a massage and ate delicious food and drank wine and expertly crafted gourmet cocktails. I wore a dress each day and waltzed around feeling pretty.
On Sunday night, I was curled up on the couch relaxing, centering myself for the return to real life the following Monday…
When I got a phone call. From the Collingswood Police Department. And then from Camden County Animal Control.
We are lucky enough to have a fenced in backyard at our house. We have a dog door that allows our little terrors to go in and out as they please. Unfortunately, we recently discovered that the dogs (especially the puppy) are good at leaping over short fences, ramming holes into older wood fencing, and getting out of the yard and running amuck around the neighborhood. Wes and I have been patching the holes as we find them, but ultimately we realized that we had to get new fencing installed.
I had already started the process of finding a contractor to do this for us when I got the phone calls from various county authorities. I was informed that Lola had gotten out, trotted all the way over to the vicinity of the police station, and gotten into a fight with some other dog around there. I was then informed that Lola had been taken to the Camden County Animal Shelter (henceforth to be referred to as Dog Jail) and would be spending the night there and that I could come bail her out the next morning.
It was then that I realized that I was a grown up. Not only was I attempting to find the best priced contractor for a vinyl fencing installation, but now I had to go to Dog Jail to bail out my hooligan dog (a hooligan dog WITH A TROUBLED PAST) after she’s spent the night in the, er, dog tank? To think about what she’s done.
I called out from work and retrieved the pooch. This is her in the backseat of my car that morning. I don’t think she thought about any of this at all at any point during the night:
I then called two more fence companies and arranged for consultations that day, went grocery shopping, did laundry, patched more holes in the fence, tripped over debris in the yard injuring my hand, went for a run, made dinner, and then fell asleep on the couch while attempting to watch a show.
Adulting like a boss.
I then realized that working myself to the bone with mundane adultness was perhaps not the kindest way to treat myself. And thus the sticker chart was born, to make sure I do things like draw and eat and all that.
Here’s hoping that the dogs stay out of trouble while we’re waiting for the fence project to be completed. Although, if they get “arrested” again, I might ask the shelter to take a “mug shot” of them. Lola has a great “Man, this is the worst thing ever” face.