Yesterday was not a good day. Between chasing Bodhi around the house, cleaning up after him and being bitten (in a friendly way, but still bitten) I was close to considering putting him on the curb with a sign that said free to a good home. (Just kidding.. but I can still think it, can't I?) That is not fair, he's just a puppy and this is what they do - they bite, they eat, they vomit, they poop in the house. Usually not all at the same time, but I guess yesterday was a good day to test the theory - and my patience. Which means, I did my prayers at my desk instead of in the temple.
I know how that sounds - how much effort does it take to go down the stairs and sit for ten minutes. Well, if you've ever had a toddler who is teething, then you know what I am dealing with. Bodhi is now 35 pounds of love and muscle. And he's five months old. We have at least another 7 months of "puppy" stuff to deal with. Yesterday I found a tooth in his water dish and one on the carpet. There's blood on my couch upstairs from his drool, and I now have six pairs of pants with holes in various unmentionable places. Between his muddy paws, his bloody mouth and his poop on the carpets (walked on by the other two dogs and then spread around), I am feeling a bit overwhelmed. But then, Bodhi comes over with that silly face, kisses me all over and hugs me. (Yes, poodles actually hug when they love you. Chelsea has been getting love hugs by the dozen from Uriel.)
So once I settled the mayhem yesterday morning, I sat here and did my prayers. It wasn't a bad thing, really. I had a clear sight on all three dogs. The pup was secured in my studio, gnawing on his bone. So I did the prayers here, asking Legba to open the door for a calmer afternoon. He must have taken sympathy on me - Bodhi slept for the rest of the day, the other two parked themselves in the front window and I got some actual work done. Amazing.
So now, I am setting my little altar space here for the duration. After all, how can you really concentrate when all you hear is yelping, barking, mad feet tearing around the floors and the smell of distress fills your nose? I am sure the Lwa would much rather I sit quietly and actually concentrate, rather than break at every line of prayer to yell at the dogs to be quiet.
I will keep to my schedule. And I will find a way to make it all work. That's my real job actually. The Great Mitigator of Craziness. At least, until The Donald gets home. Then he can take over for a spell.
Mi di twa Pater, twa Ave Maria...