The furniture guys were here.
They were moving the new sofa into my family room. We had the carpet guy in on Monday. Lucy was in surgery while he was here and I was sort of grateful that DH and I had finally decided to get around to doing the carpet and replacing living room furniture, because I had something to distract me from sitting here worrying myself into an ulcer while waiting for the vet to call. It ended up being a very pleasant experience with the carpet installer. We chatted the entire time he worked on the carpet. He turned out to be a dog person too, his breed of choice is English Bulldogs and he drove about as far as I drove to get Mugen, to get his puppy. So we had a lot in common. Talked about all sorts of interesting things and I got some great dog friendly vacation ideas for this summer, which I am really thrilled about.
Today, it was the furniture guys and this is the last step in the family room re-do until next pay day. We had planned to spend money on wall art and all this other… froo froo stuff, but Lucy’s need for surgery came up out of nowhere, so.. we have our priorities. Surgery first.
We needed a new sofa badly. The whole thing for this came about when I looked at DH just after Christmas and said, “You know, the furniture stores run great sales at this time of year because nobody does rooms in the winter.” He agreed, that was why we’d chosen to do my bedroom last January, because of a really awesome furniture sale where we got my bedroom suite for a decent price and it’s SUPER nice furniture too. DH wasn’t too keen on getting on new furniture right away though. Our old stuff is structurally in good shape. We could have it reupholstered and use it for another ten years if we really wanted to… but then I smiled at my DH and said, “Come here.”
When he did, I showed him the hole in the back cushion that my foot was poking through in the sofa.
He laughed and said, “Okay, a new couch is happening as soon as we find one.”
He found one the following Monday on his way into work.
I saw it, I liked it, but it was too big for our space, but we found another one in the same store that I fell in LOVE with. So… we made the arrangements and ordered the furniture.
Moving a sofa into my house is sort of tricky business. It requires them getting it through the front door and immediately around a corner and into a hallway, where they will turn another corner and then have to lift this ginormous thing OVER my kitchen counter and from there, it can go into my family room.
I can’t watch when people move furniture into my house. I love my house, it’s gorgeous. But it has so many switch backs and twists and turns just to maneuver through it. The 180 degree turn going up the stairs into my bedroom was terrifying when they were moving a five foot square chest of drawers up the stairs. When they finally got it up there, after an hour of fussing and sweating and swearing, I went upstairs to find that the factory had shipped the wrong chest. I had wanted the chest of drawers with the marble top. The chest I received, had a wood top. Instead of calling to complain, I called the store and told them that the wood top was fine and that I actually liked it better and could they please reimburse me for the price difference. That wasn’t entirely true.
I still like the marble topped dresser better. A large portion of my reasoning for that decision was that I really didn’t want to watch them try not to break my house again. So when the sofa guys came, I sat in the dining room with my laptop and my best girl.
Lucy is wearing a hoodie. My daughter suggested it to keep her warm after her ultrasound because they shaved her like… practically naked. Lucy has been oddly clingy the last few days. Like with her previous surgeries, Mugen has gotten too close to her wound within 24 hours following a surgery and she lit into him last night over it. Since this is the third time it’s happened, I have now recognized the pattern. And rather than freaking out, which my DH did, I just stood up and I shouted “ENOUGH!”.
Funny how quickly that works when you refuse to tolerate any other response from your dogs when you issue that command. Lucy, because she is my angel and my sweetie pie, always immediately stands down and sits at my knee in a heel. I seriously, seriously love her. She has every right to be peeved. She’s in pain and Mugen is obnoxious and overbearing, but when Mom says enough, the world stops and she listens.
She is a GOOD dog.
So rather than force Lucy to put up with Mugen’s crap this morning while all the fuss is going on with the furniture movers, which I knew would have him bouncing off the walls in excitement, he sat in the box until they were gone. While I sat in the dining room, Lucy did something a little uncharacteristic for her. She always keeps me in her line of sight, but she does not glue herself to me. She just has to know where I am at all times. Mugen is on me like white on rice, but Lucy is not… velcro.
Today, Lucy was velcro. I sat down in the dining room and she got up and sat next to me with the hood of that ridiculous hoodie hanging down almost into her eyes and she gave me the dog face and laid her head on my thigh, a trick she has learned from the master of all pathetic faces, Mugen. I bent down and gave her a kiss on her nose. She kissed me back and then she laid on the floor with her head hovering over my foot with a big, goofy doggie smile on her face and her tongue hanging out on one side.
My daughter, who had late start this morning, looked over and laughed. “Look at her mom! She’s a gangsta!” It was funny, but I didn’t see what she saw. All I saw was my baby girl, sticking close to me, comfortable, safe and happy.
This is what rescuing a dog is all about.