Scoob doesn't understand why or how much I enjoy walking with him. If it's just me walking, I'll find a perfectly rational reason to blow it off, so I like walking with him. I also just like spending the time with him, even if we're not talking. When we spend time together at the house, it's either mealtime or TV/movie time, or there's some other distraction.
Another reason we've postponed our walks—Scoob is injured! We're still not sure what he did, but he laid down on the living room floor with my one evening and when he tried to skooch close to snuggle we heard a pop and he started howling in pain. He thinks he overworked some back muscles working in the yard. I think he torqued something in his back when skooching around on the floor. (I don;t think he wants to admit he hurt himself doing something so "everday.") Either way, he has been in a lot of pain for about a week and a half.
Even though he wanted to wait it out, I finally called the doctor to make an appointment for him and made him go last Friday (his last day of work). Scoob almost never takes anything for pain, headaches or whatever. But with this he had been taking the maximum dosage of ibuprofen, graduated to taking some of the Vicodin I have for my migraines, and then to the Percocet left over from my surgery. The doctor couldn't really do anything for him except give him his own Vicodin Rx and some muscle relaxers. I've noticed he's backed off on the pain killers a bit, so I think he's getting better, but he says the pain is still the same.
In other news, I have spent my Labor Day sending out invoices for my freelancing work, sending out my resume and cover letters for job postings, applying for unemployment (but I need more info from my employer before I continue), and debating the wisdom of cleaning house on Labor Day.
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