sarah ray and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

it all started with the sniffles. but that's how a bad day usually starts. a tiny, seemingly insignificant thing happens that seems to throw off the balance of the cosmos. i didn't know it at the time, but those sniffles were just the beginning to what was bound to be one helluvuhday.

work sucked. but i'll spare you the deets. in an effort to burn off some of the work-related steam, i picked up the pooch on my way back into town and drove downtown to take a walk through the campus of hope college. it was raining. but of COURSE it was raining. it's always raining lately. but oh well. gerty and i were in dire need of some endorphin-related mood boosters. and then, three minutes into our walk, that wiener-of-a-dog went and got herself stuck on/in a wall. yes, you read that correctly. here's the proof:

i saw that she got the leash stuck between the stones and thought, 'no big deal. i'll just yank it out.' so i started yanking. and tugging. and pulling. and swearing. but then i remembered that both of my parents work at hope college (my mom in the health clinic and dad as the provost) and their offices are each within a three minute walking distance of our location. hoping she could walk over and help me tug, i called my mom. no answer. so i called my dad. here's how that conversation went:

me: hi, dad.

dad: hi, sarah.

me: are you in your office?

dad: no, i'm in grand rapids with your mom who is having emergency surgery to repair a torn retina.

me: what?! okay, well, no big deal. i'm just stuck on a wall with the dog.

dad: call campus safety.

i hang up and then it starts to sink in. my mom, out of nowhere, is having emergency surgery. that's a big deal. and i'm still freaking stuck on a wall. i begin to contemplate my dad's advice and consider calling campus safety. but it's not really an emergency so i don't want to bother them. also, if i call campus safety it will be published in the incident report and will become public knowledge (but then again, i guess it doesn't get more public than describing the situation on a blog). and i have flashbacks to my junior year of college when i almost burned down my apartment complex by putting a frozen pizza in the oven when a plastic lid was stuck to the bottom of the pan. the whole building had to be evacuated and the situation was published in the incident report the next day for all to see. obviously, i can't have that happen again. i picture the report saying something like "idiot gets dog stuck on graves hall. PETA called to flog said idiot." i call emily and, thankfully, she can come rescue us. but in the mean time, we wait.

emily shows up, cuts us free, and we're off to the chow hound to buy a new leash. fifty bucks later and we're back in business.

at this point, my dad calls to inform me that mom is out of surgery and they are on their way back to holland. but. the recovery process means she has to sleep sitting up in a recliner. no reading, working, driving, etc. for a month. and my mom is not a 'sit still' sorta gal. poor mom.

fast forward a few hours. i've picked up dinner, tylenol, and toilet paper (because they needed it) for mom and dad and i'm on my way home to spend some quality time with gerty. i let her out of the cage and go to the bathroom. when i come out mere seconds later, this is what i find:

that glowy-eyed demon dog has shredded the stuffing out of her bed and scattered it all around the dining room. i guess this is her passive aggressive way of telling me she's pissed that our walk was cut short. pun intended.

to summarize

for sale: one great (mediocre at best) dane. talents include getting stuck to walls, destroying objects within a matter of seconds, and oozing from her vag.

luckily things can only get better, right? and, seriously, prayers for my mom are strongly encouraged.