Dog Days!

Since the dog days of summer seem to be over, Neighbor Terri and I have started walking two miles every morning after I get the guys off to school. Our old dogs come along, too. One morning last week, Riley Dog refused to go. Usually one to start jumping up and down and running in circles, he wouldn't even come out of the garage! He had walked three days in a row and must have been feeling it.

I'm not leaving this garage today!

Yesterday, he agreed to go. He really wasn't that into it. I knew he was tired when he hiked his leg and started to pee. Mid-stream, he had to adjust his tripod. He dropped his right leg and raised his left. As far as I could tell, he didn't dribble on either leg!

She did NOT just take a picture of me peeing!

The best walks are when our buddies come along, too. If you get tired, just walk in the middle and the others hold you up. Isn't that what friends are for?

Bear, Zoe and Riley...friends forever!

Bladder Control

Fifteen years ago, I had my first child. After that, I didn’t seem to notice any changes in my bladder. But after my second child thirteen years ago, I think I sprung a leak.

It doesn’t help that I drink gallons of liquid a day. For example, right now, it is 9:14 am. I have had two large glasses of water (to swallow my hand-full of vitamins and tablets), a can of diet coke, a tall cappuccino from Starbuck’s (same as a small cup of coffee), a bottle of water, and two sips of a 20 ounce bottle of diet coke. More will follow as the day goes on.

I never pass by a restroom, public or not, that I don’t evaluate my bladder. If there is the slightest bit of pressure, I will stop in for a visit.
The problem comes when I am in the car, sipping away. Once I turn onto the road where our house is, the pressure starts. When I pull into our driveway and debate whether or not to get the mail, it ramps up and I pass the mailbox. In the garage, I have to talk to my bladder before I open the car door. “We’re almost there. Less than 50 yards and we’ll be in the bathroom,” I tell the cramping organ. I pause at the steps to squeeze my knees together. The door to the house is opened while simultaneously unbuckling, unbuttoning and unzipping. I do the knock-kneed speed-walk to the bathroom. Just turning on the light is akin to a baby crying to a breast-feeding mother. The let-down begins, but my pants aren’t down yet! Deep breathing, pants being shoved down while maintaining the knock-kneed press and quick flop on the potty! Finally, relief! Once the panic is gone, I evaluate my clothes to see if a whole new outfit is needed or just undies.

There is something about my chicken house that brings on an immediate need for a bathroom. While my chickens dawdle around the yard on their way to their safe place, my bladder goes from zero to sixty in thirty seconds or less. I confess that, more than once, I have hidden behind the shed, dropped my pants and peed in the woods. So, if you are riding by my house in the winter time just before dark, there’s a good chance you will see a moon rising between the leafless trees.

In my next house, I will have a toilet in the garage and the henhouse!