I’m running like a crazy woman, which isn’t at all unusual for me for December. Tuesday, I had dinner with an old friend I hadn’t seen in awhile, and yesterday, I taught the class that I teach, and tonight, I’m meeting a friend for happy hour and a lecture and it’s just like that for the next few days. And I don’t enjoy being this busy and overextended, but the friends I’ve seen this week are people I seldom get the chance to connect with, and the class is a commitment about which I feel strongly.
I was careful to come home early, today, to spend time with the pup, only to find that he shredded the bed that I bought to replace the other bed.
I don’t feel as desperate about this as I did the last time he did it (just over two weeks ago). Last time, I blamed myself— I felt like I left him unprepared, on the day that he started shredding the bed, and I had left things in harm’s way, after that. This time, I feel like it’s on him. I left him walked, he hadn’t been alone long, he had food in a couple of different puzzle toys, and water. He might be punishing me because I’m gone more than usual, or because I’m walking around wound too tight, or he might just be shredding things because it’s entertaining. But it’s on him this time.
I do wonder how much my funk is playing into his bad behavior. It doesn’t make me feel at all better about the upcoming slumber party, but I guess we’ll cross bridges as we come to them.