Candid Corvid Productions

Fencing and chairs are placed upon the couch coverlets to keep the dogs off, which also keeps the humans off.

Well, at least I am kept off.

Piles continually accruing accumulate unrelated to any of my functioning – as do skitters of loose cat litter, floating balls of wolf fluff, muddy paw prints and human foot traffic residues from lack of entryway rugs – because if they were left on the floor, a dog or two would pee upon them.

So, instead, everything else gets spread across onto the floor – and the dogs pee and have to be cleaned up after, anyway.

Did I mention that my kitchen chairs and beautiful vintage coffee table have had their real, solid wood and filagreed beauty desecrated by unrepentent multi-gnawing?

And dust accumulates on any surface as soon as it is cleaned due to high activity passage.

And when I picked up the glass salt container today while trying to cook, some type of mysterious goo dripped from its base onto my hand from the kitchen counter.

I stopped trying to cook, covered the meat with tin foil, stuck it back into the fridge, and walked away carrying some strange supplement mixture to consume, instead of real food.

Let me tell you about the layers of pet gates to travel through – and blockades of a fan and chair to move – to get back and forth between kitchen and bedrooms.

All of this requires precision flow of movements and wrecks near every step if one has torn joints or instable limb issues.

Also, my lovely kitchen curtains got a hole chewed through them, and one day I came home to find that the youngest dog had crawled through the hole (why?!) and was standing there in one position confused until I helped him out as I tsked at him in bemused exacerbation.

(Hilarious, I know…)

Then I just completely cut the curtain – eliminating the danger and any ‘last remnants’ of my former attachment to them.

And I am still not sure where we put the missing piano chair.”