"How that shoulder?" the physical therapist asked while he squeezed my finger as I winced and writhed.
"It's bein' a boogly boo" she answered.
She raised her shoulder slightly and turned her head to speak to it.
"I told you that you was goin' to behave yesterday," she said to her raised shoulder,
"but you decided that wasn't how it was goin' to be".
She turned back to us.
"Sometimes, I just want to take it off".
The stocking cap face covering member of the Junkyard Band looked at me quietly.
"You broke your finger?" he asked.
"Yeah..." I replied, flattered that he cared, or that he even wanted to talk to me.
"And now it won't move anymore....".
"We need to chat in a minute" the therapist called to him.
That didn't sound good.
Lola had been in her crate too long. I raced home and tethered her outside, throwing tennis balls and toys for her to chase. I wanted her to run around, stretch her legs, but I didn't feel like walking her. We were having fun. Suddenly, two off-leash dogs ran into our yard. Like, totally in the yard. I untethered Lola as quickly as I could and tried to drag her inside. Her hackles were up and she was barking. They were barking too. They were free, she was not.
I got her in. She was freaking out and banging on the kitchen windows with her hands. I ran out to see what the fuck was up with those dogs. They had collars on. One ran down the steps at me with its hackles raised, barking violently.
"YOU'RE barking at ME!" I found myself screaming at the dog.
"Get the fuck out of here!" I yelled, rushing it. It ran away.
I chased the other one off too.
I saw a woman calling to them, standing on the corner. Okay, they must have broken out. It can happen. As pissed as I was, I didn't want to see them run over.
Lola was despondent, running around the house, jumping at windows. I had to go get my niece. I took Lola in the car; I didn't want to crate her again or leave her loose in the house. As I opened my car door, I saw the second dog still wandering the street where I had seen the owner take them both. Apparently it wasn't a big problem to let the dogs roam, loose. Now, I was really pissed.
Lola and I rode back to our house. I saw the dog again and hustled her inside. She saw it too. And then threw up multiple times on the floor once inside.
"What the fuck is your problem!" I yelled at the stupid bitch owner of the dogs.
"I have a really strong Pit Bull that's a little funny about other dogs. Yours rampaged into her territory with their hackles up. She nearly broke a window after I got her inside and now she's throwing up! You're lucky I didn't let her have them."
"What the fuck is your problem?!" I screamed in her face.
Or, I wish I did.
"You've been coming here for a couple of months and I hate to say it, but I am not seeing progress." the therapist told Stocking Cap.
"I still got a lot of pain..." he responded.
"It is unethical for me to keep taking your money when what I'm doing isn't working." he said professionally.
"Alicia isn't coming today, she hurts and is still in the bed." the secretary called.
"Your patients make me sad" I said quietly while he wrenched on my finger.
"I know," he responded
"but it's what I have to do".
"Castigo," I told the students,
"it means 'punishment'. What's the worst castigo you've ever received?"
I was trying to personalize their vocabulary words. It started out tame at first. And then, it escalated.
"My mom locked me outside without my glasses" Ming told the class.
"My dad made me sleep in the hallway on the floor" Trina seconded.
"They just wup me".
"They make me stand in the corner with my arms raised until I can't keep them up anymore".
"They make me choose between my blanket and the pillow on my bed, but not both".
"What the fuck?!" I screamed.
"WHAT THE FUCK!"
Or, I wish I did.
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