So, the condo refinance seems to be sliding to the finish line with nary a bump. I had a call from the loan processing gal, letting me know that the loan was in final review, and I'd hear from her in a day or two about whether underwriting needed anything else, or scheduling a closing. I already had an "approved" and doubt the appraisal will affect that a tiddle, so I think this will get done in a week or ten days. The mortgage broker emailed me tonight and asked me when I wanted to get started on refinancing the house. Soon, but not this minute, thanks. I have enough on my plate.
And I'm tired. Going to bed early does nothing, because the dog only lasts so long. I went to bed at 9:30 last night, and he woke me at 4:30. He really, really had to go. Really.
Murphy. Oh, Murphy. I think his hearing and sight have deteriorated in unison. Last night I left this room (the "office") and went into the living room. He was sleeping on the floor in here. Sophie followed me, and we watched TV, etc., until it was bedtime and she wanted to go out. Murphy was still in the office, so I went to the doorway to call him.. I stood in the hall, right outside the room, and called. No response. I could see his side rising and falling - he was just sound asleep. Called louder. Nothing. Called LOUDER. He woke up, sat up and looked, very alertly, in the opposite direction, at the chair I was sitting in AN HOUR AGO. I repeated, "Murphy." "MURPHY." There was a long pause of several seconds of confusion on his part, before I said, again LOUDLY, "HEY! OVER HERE, MURPH."
He figured it out, hopped up and was ready to go.
Bless his little bossy heart, he's all heart and all big dog, but his tiny little body is getting old. I see how he tires easily, I see how deeply he sleeps, I know he can't hear and see the way he did a year ago. I truly think that Sophie keeps him going - he pushes himself to keep up with her, and that motivates him to get more exercise and be more active. He follows her lead - if she's excited, he barks. If she's ready to go out, he is too.
And on being motivated to be more active, I don't know what the hell has happened to ME. I was rudely awakened at 4:30 this morning, my bad knee hurt, I was grumpy, I decided I wouldn't exercise this morning. Fuck it. My knee was sore, I was sleep deprived, just NO. So I took the dogs out to potty and sat on the couch. I drank coffee, I finally finished watching the latest episode of Game of Thrones (MUST they cut off some body part in EVERY episode?) and then, I had to go for a walk.
I didn't plan to. My knee hurt. I was sleep deprived. But apparently I'm an addict. I had to do it. I just got up, got ready, and walked out the door. The sun wasn't quite up, and we are still in a blessed time of relatively low morning humidity. (We'll see if I am still doing this in a month.) It felt good. It was a good start to the day.
Murphy sounds allot like my dad, except my dad is 82 and still rides a motorcycle.
ReplyDeleteOh, that sounds so like the Ancient Iggy, Ace. He will be 14 in early June, has been on meds for congestive heart failure for nearly 3 years, and had a stroke last September. Deeply asleep, and confused if woken up, exactly! Fine if he wakes in his own time.
ReplyDeleteSeriously vision impaired with cataracts, hearing depends on how interesting the sounds are.....as in is someone opening the treat jar ?
BUT, he still walks and trots and even gallops perfectly smoothly, no sign of joint pain or restriction. Still a very cheerful little hound.
All the best,
Gae, in Callala Bay
Ace and Murphy sound like twins - "Did someone say treats?" But when he's sleeping, I can shout his name and he doesn't even twitch. that's why it's so hard to tell if it's real hearing loss or selective deafness. And yes, still a cheerful little hound.
ReplyDeleteBrenda - I don't know whether to admire your dad, or be scared. Murphy would totally think he could still ride a motorcycle. He still thinks he can take on the Rottweiler that flirts with Sophie from afar. She has a mad crush on every big dog - the Lab, the Golden, the Rottie, the Pittie. I love this neighborhood because we have no breed/size restrictions on dogs, and it works just fine. My six pound bossy dog is the growliest thing in the neighborhood. He's just jealous.
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