In my defense...

Another twelve hours of sleeping and five of napping.  If only the thought of my glasses waiting on me was not hanging over my head.  SIGH.  Still, I am bundled up in my quilt and electric blanket, intent on not doing a single productive or laborious thing about the house today.  I probably would have napped more had Amos not been defending the homestead.

Well, I did make one attempt at productivity today.  I called the insurance company—yet again—about the second lost check for my prescription premium.  I discovered that to stop payment on a check is $25, so I actually left the first check alone, hoping it will never be cashed.  The second check, for two months now, also has not been received at the alternative address I was given.  Frankly, I do not want to keep writing checks and putting expensive stamps on the checks.  And, seriously, in 2014 there should be an electronic way of making a premium payment.  The woman I spoke with today said that she would "investigate" the matter since it is now two weeks since I mailed the second check directly to the insurance call center.

I think I shall lose what is left of my marbles if the third month's premium does not actually come out of my disability check, as has finally been set up.  It will be debited five months after I agreed to the charge.

When Sandra was here ... sometime recently ... she made Amos lay down before pre-cleaning the proffered dish.  I thought that was brilliant, and in her dog-whisperer-ways, she had him grasping the concept quite quickly.  Becky encouraged me to make Amos stay in the down position before I released him.  Whilst we are not quite there yet, all I have to do is hold up a dish before him and Amos will sit, first, then lay down without my even having to ask.  I sure do with I could hire Sandra to train him.

His biggest flaw is that, ever since the pit bull attack, Amos defends the homestead rather vigorously and vociferously. And, despite the fact that I absolutely adore my little nurse puppy dog, it can be rather annoying.

The UPS man loves Amos' display and calls encouragement to him through the front door.  The mailman will scurry off the porch faster than one would think is possible if Amos is downstairs when he stops to deliver my mail.  If you are not actually looking at the ball of fluffy curls that is my puppy dog, you might think that Cujo was on the other side of the door.

Of course, if you actually watch Amos when he is defending the homestead, you can see the tremors of fear rippling through his body.  And, if you come inside, though his defense will remain vigorous and vociferous, he will back further and further away from you.  We are both scaredy cats still, terrified wimps though it has been two and a half years.

I now have four folk who have verified that when I am not in residence Amos does not defend the homestead at all, even with someone else there.  So, I believe that is evidence enough to say that he is actually defending me, the way he did that terrible day when he would not let anyone close to our bloody bodies, rather than the homestead.  How in the world to I train his defense out of him???


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!