After Broad Street, I took Monday off from the gym unintentionally -- I had planned to work out, but ended up having to spend the evening preparing for a deposition. BOOOOOO. Yesterday, I intentionally took the day off, too. I rationalized it by figuring my body could use the extra recovery -- but really, in my mind, I knew that I just didn't feel like going to the gym.
So I didn't.
We made dinner instead -- grilled chicken for me, with half a jar of salsa, some pepperjack cheese, Fage 0 and sliced olives. PhillyGuy made some kind of pasta dish with whole wheat rotini, broccoli, chicken and onions in a vodka sauce that we had sitting around.
We were settled in, happily watching Lost and eating dinner, when suddenly, all hell broke loose. And by that, I mean that Sophie got the zoomies and went apeshit doing laps around our dining room table. That is NEVER a good sign -- so I leapt up and ran over to grab her, but not in time to stop her from starting to pee on our rug.
Ugh. So, I scooped her up mid-pee and ran downstairs. Naturally, Cosmo followed us, so I took them both outside.
Where Cosmo proceeded to pee on Sophie's head.
We ran upstairs, Sophie in my arms, and went straight up to the bathroom, where the dogs proceeded to get bathed. Poor Sophie, with her pee-soaked (okay, more like pee-drizzled) head went first. She doesn't LOVE the bath, but sits there and tolerates it. Cosmo, on the other hand, was terrified. As soon as he figured out what was coming, he froze and tried to find a way out of the bathroom. PhillyGuy hung out, trying to calm him down.
Cosmo was a good sport, though. He stood frozen and tense in the tub with his head lodged firmly against my stomach. I could see his hind legs shaking a little bit as I washed him. Poor guy -- he is such a good dog, and it's obvious his old family didn't treat him right. Yesterday, he puked on the floor after drinking too much water too quickly, and was so terrified that he ran into his crate, jammed himself in the back, and refused to come out, even for a treat.
Poor dogs. Thank god for DVR, though -- even with the 25-minute break to clean up pee, take the dogs out and then bathe them both, we still got to settle back in and watch the rest of Lost.
Is anyone else really depressed about that show now? Pretty much all of my favorite characters, with the exception of Hurley, are now dead. I can't stand Jack and Kate, and yet -- here they are. BOOOOOOO.