The One With the Aftermath

Well, my Muggsy is not a happy camper. Taking the blood is over, but I guess the training never is. He didn't eat for three meals after the blood draw and he spent that whole evening lying alone in the bathroom, which he has never done. When I got home, he attacked Chubbs pretty viciously and growled at me from his crate. He spent the night in there. Yesterday, he finally ate dinner, but I was home the whole day worried about him and kept him in his crate for a lot of the afternoon when a bone. The act of chewing releases seratonin, which Muggsy needs more of to calm down. I also kept Chubbs in his crate when Muggsy was out. He was fine then last night, but I went home for lunch today, he tried to attack Chubbs for walking in his crate. I stopped it and put them both in their crates. I didn't close the door and they stayed in there the rest of the time I was home. Muggsy won't come out until he's ready to be friendly, so I guess that means I probably would have gotten snapped at had I gone over to say good-bye. I hope he settles down soon.

Tonight, I won't be going home after work to check on them because it's the first night of my birthday present. Ross gave me my present early because it involves several activities. The theme is my top five favorite bands, which I posted on a web blog awhile back. So we're going to a Tom Petty concert in August, an Eagles concert in October and the Pink Floyd laser light show tonight. He also got me the book that inspired "The Rain King" by the Counting Crows and a Janis Joplin Greatest Hits cd. Isn't he sweet?

One more thing to comment on before I wrap this up. The Cowboys announced that they are inducting Emmitt Smith, Michael Irvin and Troy Aikman into the Ring of Honor. Ahh, memories. I wish I could be there. Those guys were the reason I became a sports reporter. It was a game in 1992, a 30-3 win over the Giants at Texas Stadium, that I decided I wanted to move to Dallas to be a sports writer for the Dallas Morning News. I was an obsessed little kid. I can still remember crying after I touched Troy Aikman on the shoulder when I was 13. I was even a member of his fan club with my mowing money. I never really felt passionately about it after high school, but I still felt a little teary-eyed at the game when Emmitt broke the rushing record. Troy and Michael were already gone by the time I was a season ticket holder, but there was that feeling inside of me that I had accomplished everything I set out to accomplish, everything that I was told I could never do, and I just knew that the 12-year-old girl who sat in her room and cried because she never really felt like she belonged would have been really, really happy. And I was happy for her because I knew I had done everything that I vowed to her that I would.