Therapy Dogs Are Everywhere

I'm having a really difficult week.  I'm still recovering from a flu (this is week 3). There's been a heat-wave, which is never good news. Something horrible happened to my back yesterday and there have been muscle spasms going on for the last 36 hours or so that make it difficult to walk and breathe. Sitting hurts. Standing is exhausting, plus there's the worry of falling down due to the feeling of muscle weakness. Laying down hurts. My boss has been extra difficult lately.

I'm just really, really tired lately. Tonight I didn't even go to the library! Normally I go every Wednesday night, because it's the only night during the week they're open late.

Today I'd agreed that I would take the earlier lunch hour rather than the later one I prefer, as a favor to the Office Manager. He was going to a Thing, and wanted to take an extra-long lunch to attend it. So at noon I hobbled off to lunch.

Because of all my back problems I decided to go nearby to a little Japanese place for lunch. Got the food. Sat down. Promptly had soup go down the wrong pipe. Did that choking cough you do when that happens. Over and over. People looked. So I tried to stop. Except, I was still choking. Then, all in the same moment, three things happened. I was choking, suddenly about to throw up, and realized I was over-heating.

I had to get the hell out of there, immediately. Looked at my not-quite-half-eaten food. Looked at the long line at the register. Made the decision to let it go, and just throw it out - no time to wait in line to ask for to-go stuff. Apparently I was feeling worse than I realized, and weaker too, because when I tipped the tray into the trash can for all the food to slide in, I lost my grip on that tray and it slid right in also.

My first instinct was to plunge an arm in there and haul that tray out. That's the proper thing to do, right? You make a mistake, you fix it. My second instinct was pure self-preservation. If I leaned over, I was going to throw up. Fact. Looking around, it was clear nobody had seen. I'm not proud of what I did next. I left. Walked right out.

I just wanted to avoid throwing up or passing out in public, and if at all possible, doing either at all. An office building with a lobby full of chairs called my name, and I sat down. Made a phone call. An airing of the grievances, if you will. Ten minutes left of a lunch hour, and I headed back to the office. Popped a piece of gum in an effort to get rid of the throw-up taste in my mouth, and decided to pop into my favorite store near the office.

When I walked in, I saw an older couple with two dogs looking at home furnishings. My hesitation only lasted for a half a second before I zoomed over. "Hi. I'm having a terrible day. Could I please pet your dogs?" Must have looked suitably pathetic, because they smiled and introduced Sadie and Ivy as I sank to my knees. For five or so minutes, I sat on the floor of a very expensive store where old monied ladies have their drivers park in no-parking places while store employees carry out bags to the car.  The couple discussed vases and coffee table books while I sat at their feet and a dog with very large eyes looked into mine and kept kissing my hand.

Eventually I hauled myself back to my feet, thanked the couple, and went back to work. While sitting in the office lobby I had contemplated leaving early for the day, citing illness. After being emotionally fortified by the dogs, that was no longer necessary.

Tomorrow I will see Le Pooch, and her snuggles will be even better, more meaningful and more healing. I am sorry for having cheated on her with other dogs. Clearly, I am the perfect candidate for a therapy dog.