Here I sit, in my hard plastic lime green chair in the AIM Gallery, where it is my turn to gallery sit, which means I am here for 8 hours. And since it takes a good half hour to get here, that's 9 hours away from the house, and sweet Molly. Dan is gone and that's ok if I'm going to my studio, since I don't have to be there for so long. When I am gallery sitting at AIM Dan's usually around but today he is in Norfolk meeting with General somebody and so Miss Molly came to the gallery with me today. There is a strict “NO PETS” rule, but Wednesday is such a completely dead day here I figured it would be ok. When I first came in there was only one artist here, way down the other end of the hall of studio/galleries; the wood turner Patrick who works furiously hours on end with loud rock music blasting (so he can hear it over his lathe) so I figured he wouldn’t even notice Molly was here (though not sure he’d mind).
So I put her down on the floor and set about barricading a little pen area for her. It was easy to do, then I put down my fairly new Pottery Barn knitted rusty orange throw for her to lay on so she would be comfortable with the familiar feel and smells (the one I told Dan to NOT EVER let Molly lay on since she walks in circle digging it into a lump thus ruining it by pulling up little yarn threads). Sacrifices for canine comfort.
Then I turned around to pick up Molly and place her in her new temporary home, and she was, of course, GONE. She did however, conveniently leave a trail of steamy little dollops of poop which REEKED. I looked down toward the gallery’s doorways just as her white fluffy tail disappeared around the corner. I grabbed her and brought her back to her pen. She was not totally delighted with the throw, or the bacon treat, or the fresh bowl of water. She immediately began searching for an escape route.
In the meantime I was picking up dog poop, spraying the floor with cleaner, and looking for a zip-type plastic bag to put the poop in as fast as possible to get rid of the horrible smell. I could only find a huge trash bag but that worked fine as I was able to keep folding and wrapping until it was covered in at least 15 layers of plastic which should take care of the smell. Plopped it into the waste basket and looked in the pen, no Molly.
I headed for the hall, there she was, waddling down the hall with her nose to the ground looking for something to eat or pee on I guess. I picked her up and put her back in her pen with a fresh bacon snack, which she ate and then resumed her attempts at escape. I just wanted her to settle down so I could go use the bathroom and get a cup of coffee and maybe relax for five seconds. I pulled one of the green chairs next to mine and put the orange throw in it and put her on top of it. After a while she actually settled down for as long as ten seconds at a time. It was so distracting worrying about her being annoying at any second that I couldn’t really work on any of the things I’d brought with me to do so I made a few phone calls and then just played solitaire on my computer and hoped she would exhaust herself soon. I grew bored with that (is there anything more boring?) and started picking out the m&ms from the giant bag of Kirkland Trail Mix. Then I started getting a headache from the m&ms so started writing this.
She is still sitting in the green chair, panting, looking around nervously. More artists are coming in. A few minutes ago I went down the hall to talk to Amanda who had poked her head in the door looking for me when I was on the phone. We chatted for a while and then I headed back down the hall just as a loud YELP came out of the AIM Gallery. Gulp. I wasn’t sure it didn’t sound like a chair squeaking, maybe no one noticed. She of course had heard my voice down the hall and caught on to the fact I had snuck out and was letting me know that was just unacceptable. So now I am back sitting right next to her wondering how I am going to get through this day having every move I make monitored by a little 9lb ball of white fluff. Four and a half hours left.
Update: it is now a half hour later. She was getting restless and driving me crazy so I put her and the orange throw back in her pen and gave her a little dish with some gravy in it left over from my lunch. She loved it, licked it and scooted it all across the floor trying to lick every last trace, making very loud slurping sounds and causing me to wonder what Bill must think of my manners. (He is in the studio next door and our thin walls do not go up to the ceiling so you can hear everything). He really must be wondering what all the panting, slurping, scraping and sniffing sounds are that are coming out of this gallery.
Looks like she is going to settle down on the throw now, so maybe it is a good thing after all that I brought it. Nope, she just peed on it.
How is it that a fuzz ball the size of a loaf of bread runs the lives of two otherwise fairly sane adults. Now we are home and she is sitting next to me in my big chair and every time I move it apparently disturbs her since she grumbles and sighs with annoyance. I guess she’s pretty worn out after her busy day.
