Today is a big day for me. First, it's once again moving day, but I'll get to that a little later.
Three years ago today, was the day that some insane doctor accidentally poked a hole in my heart during a routine procedure that caused me to have to have open heart surgery to correct it. The entire story is outlined under "Has This Ever Happened to You"? I consider today my 3rd birthday as I probably should have died that day. In addition, I've been alcohol free for 3 years as well. I just kind of felt that if I was going to be given the privilege of life, that I didn't want to go through it in an alcohol induced stupor. Getting back to moving day....
Some time in December, the "Lovely Jules" convinced me to re-take up residency in the upstairs bedroom of my Luxurious Palatial Estate (joking here). All kidding aside, this is the largest house I've ever lived in, particularly alone and it has a downstairs guest suite complete with restroom. Sunday is Bogie's birthday and he'll be 10 years old, rather old for a Great Dane, particularly one his size. I know I've mentioned it in the past, that Bogie is between 275 and 300 LB. the biggest Dane I've ever seen, personally. He has trouble making it up the 17 stairs to the second floor causing me great concern. When he falls, as he did last night, it causes a great panic in him, as well as me. Last night, we were almost to the top step, wearing his magic collar. Bogie thinks the collar has magical powers and carries him up the stairs, but it's really me pulling him upward. As I was saying, he fell and his 275+ LB was just caught in an awkward position with his feet in front of him and his big butt plopping down one stair at a time until I could gain control of him. Try picking up a Great Dane of his size, while he's screaming in panic and resembling a bag of jello. These was no place to grab a hold of and all I could do was stop him from dropping down all of the steps, one by one. If he falls, there is a great chance of him breaking a bone and then what will I do? With my 61 year old back, I was trying to stop him, pick him up onto his feet and get him going up the balance of the stairs. Bogie, being smarted than me, turned around and made it to the larger stairs of this circular stairway, where he once again could turn and attempt the stairs again. This time he made it, running around the bedroom in victory yelling to everyone his accomplishment. I collapsed on the bed, gasping for air and feeling like I just smoked a pack and a half and waited for the heart attack to take me, but that never happened. As I regained my ability to breathe in a normal fashion, I decided I can't do this again and need to move down to the guest suite again. Bogie's all for it!
The "Lovely Jules" called this morning and wants to go hiking this weekend, so after I get all of the dog's beds down to the new sleeping accommodations, I'll dust off my old hiking boots and get out my hiking gear. Where will I ever find a mountain that only goes downhill? Between that woman and those dogs, I'm a dead man... I wonder if Bogie would loan me his magic collar???