Power trip

Tuesdays are not my favourite – they’re a bit of a juggle.

I go into the city for work and leave the dogs in the apartment for the day. Then I fret about it.

I can’t leave the balcony door open because they cannot be trusted. They bark their heads off at every little noise and I still haven’t gotten around to having them formally accepted by the body corporate.

I know, I know.

Anyways, I got home last night and the drama wasn’t how much wee I had to clean up, it was the youngest announcing there was no power.

It had tripped at some unknown point for some unknown reason.

So gawd knows how long the fridge had been on the fritz.

This was slightly anxious-making because there were four pieces of fresh salmon in the fridge for our dinner.

I hate waste, so I decided to risk it.

We appear to have survived unscathed.

The eldest was missing in action. No message to say they wouldn’t be home for dinner. I sent a few where the eff are you? messages and got no response.

At around 8.30pm I had the most horrible thought. Had the power tripped because the eldest had electrocuted themselves and was lying in their bedroom, on the brink of death?

I ran to the bedroom door, opened it and breathed a sigh of relief that there was no one unconscious on the floor.

It turned out the eldest was at a movie and had forgotten to tell me.

I may be a catastrophist. DD fields frequent “Are you alive?” messages on his phone.

I still have no idea what tripped the power,

The incident brought back unhappy memories of the time my rabbit chewed through every electrical cord in the house after being accidently left uncaged for the day.

You can read about it below …

Frodo had form in that department, as you can also read about in a blog post called Eeek, I don’t think this will be covered by insurance …

He was a VERY naughty bunny, but I adored him. Probably because he was purchased at a very low point in my marriage and I needed something to love. Unusually for a rabbit, Frodo was quite affectionate. Whenever guests came over he’d jump onto their laps for a cuddle.

He was a little too affectionate with my ex-husband and enjoyed using his leg for sexual stimulation.

It’s been so long since those incidents occurred that even I was shocked when I read about them.

The blog posts were also filled with so much anger, which I was too unhappy to process at the time.

Anyways …

In other weird news, I took the dogs downstairs for a wee at 10pm and they started sniffing at the chainsmoking neighbour’s courtyard fence.

Next thing I knew a rat jumped out of the shadows, started screeching at the dogs, then scampered away.

I had the most horrible thought: had it bitten the dogs and given them some terrible disease?

Unlikely, as the fluff balls are both complete wusses and didn’t squeal in pain.

Being a foxie with mental health issues, Bilbo was both overexcited and terrified by the incident. Once at a safe distance upstairs, he danced around like a mad creature at the front door, barking and eager – in theory – to race downstairs and re-enter the ratty fray, when the reality was that he would have wet himself in panic if the rat had approached him again.

I’ve decided that despite the challenges of having dogs in a third floor apartment, ground floor living isn’t for me … at least not when living a block away from a street full of restaurants …


Song of the day: Jefferson Airplane – Somebody to love

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