As if I wasn’t weary enough from my week, I had a short confrontation with my elderly renter this morning.
I had phoned Rose to let her know that a mutual friend would be featuring half priced fabric and yarn at our downtown indoor market. She complained, justifiably, about pain from a lesion on one foot that hasn’t healed in months. She has been bitter, perhaps without cause, about one doctor who is not doing for her what she thinks should be done. I sincerely wished her better luck with the other doctor or the locum who might still be working in his place while he’s on paternity leave. Rose wanted to argue and debate whether that doctor was here or not here, or working, until I just wished her well again and tried to get off the phone.
And then she told me that she has receipts for paint and brushes, and asked, “You gonna pay for that ‘shtuff’? You’ll remember that she had asked permission to paint the living room, but in the meanwhile, since last October and at her request, I had reduced her rent.
So, I iterated that I was “giving her back” hundreds of dollars per year, and that is why I hadn’t offered. This pays for a little paint and plastic window coverings and such; these are things that might make Rose’s life nicer, but were not necessary (although she told me that three doctors told her to paint her living room to alleviate her depression!).
This exchange, marked by awkward silence, left me feeling sad and uneasy. I dislike conflict, but I would have felt angry and used if I had consented to paying for the paint. I’m so lucky to have Gary as a sounding board. In this case he feels I’m “right”, and he wouldn’t be reticent to tell me I’m wrong (sometimes I am!).
Then this wee soul arrived, so I had something to do while I stewed. Patchy is a young bichon cross, and suffers from a neurological condition. He is incontinent in both bowel and bladder, but as his groomer, I can take all of that in stride. It is not my business to ponder how long his owners can tolerate his condition, though I do. He is such a sweetheart, and his doctor says he is not suffering, so I can understand not wanting to “let him go.”
Then I had this pleasant little guy. He pulls his paw away and yelps occasionally when it’s nail trimming time, but we always get through it. Otherwise, he’s perfect for grooming, very trusting and affectionate. He offers kisses every time our faces are close.
After the two dogs were picked up, I went into town for errands. Often my trips to McBride are epic … I talk at length to people in stores and on the street, have coffee, dawdle around. This afternoon was like a little vacation. The only small cloud was that one friend thinks I should pay for Rose’s painting project; I should be prepared for any answer if I ask others’ opinions.
Zoey and Sandy are going home this evening. Festus, Clemina and Wally arrived this morning for short stays. So we have Roxie & Abby, another Abby, Storm and Luna, Clemina and Wally, Festus and Blitzen … a very nice bunch of guests.
I had to turn down some work today. This morning, I was asked if I could “just” bath and brush a 110 lb. shepherd cross this day. I already had the two little dogs on the schedule and must get little Abby, a pug, groomed before she goes home tomorrow. As I told you, I feel weary. I did not suggest tomorrow for the big dog, as I already have enough work Saturday as well.
I can hardly wait for Sunday breakfast and do not intend to book any grooming work that day. I can play the Sabbath card if I want to.
Thank you for visiting my blog.
Just for good measure. Here is the “sibling” trip that my three daughters and their brother-from-another-mother took this Spring. (Matt is their dad and Marion’s son) I love this photo of the four of them on a train in southern California. If I have shared this in past blog posts, I don’t care. That’s what we do with favourite pictures.
Clockwise from top … Susan, Kim, Shelly, and Matt.