I tried out my big Christmas present yesterday. It's a home pedicure footbath. It's nifty, but I think I may have psychologically scarred Keiko for life. She is now absolutely petrified to go into the kitchen, and acts as though a ferocious monster were about to attack her from the general area where I had the footbath plugged in. Something unpleasant about the resonance from the massage vibrations? The weird bubbling water? Jasper was ready to have a drink out of it, and I kept having to shoo him away, but Keiko leapt a foot in the air and two feet backwards simultaneously when I turned the thing on. Natasha simply wouldn't go near the kitchen while it was happening, but she doesn't seem put out by the experience. Poor Keiko. The footbath was turned off for an hour and tidied away, but she still treated the kitchen like there's a snake in there.
We had a little setback last night with the dog and Keiko. When we turned the lights out he wasn't ready to sleep so he kept trying to get into the cat box. I made him go downstairs, and five minutes later there was a sudden commotion of barking and skittering and general ruckus. Jasper had gone after Keiko in the living room. Man, was I mad. Into the crate he went while I looked for Keiko. We found her, safe and sound but wary. We tried sleeping with Jasper in his crate. No dice, he was barking constantly and slamming himself against the metal cage door.
Finally I admitted defeat and went downstairs with my pillow. I let the dog out into the kitchen, double gated it, and slept on the sofa. Every time he made a peep I talked to him, either sharply to get him to cut it out, or soothingly so he'd know I was there. After about half an hour he finally gave up and went to sleep. But every couple of hours I'd wake up to hear him making a low whine of sadness. It was not a restful night.
It's okay. We let him have the run of the house too soon, I guess, and he doesn't quite understand the pecking order or who owns what territory. He's very smart. He'll figure it out. We need to make sure he understands the cats are not to be chased whether we're around or not. Natasha will swat him one if he tries anything funny, but Keiko prefers to run which isn't a great option for teaching a dog to respect her. I'll teach him the old-fashioned way. Grounding for life, young man, unless you stop bugging your sister! Hmph.
Hey, guess what? Business is way up at work. I'm actually working all day. No more time to compose rancid romances, no chance to read the celebrity gossip. I'm so happy. I loathe being bored and it was really scary for several months. There are still a few people who won't fly anymore, and some of the companies we work with are downsizing, but we are generating bookings again which is very good news.
Of course, the clueless are coming out of the woodwork again. There was the lady who said she wanted a ship trip, claiming she'd been on dozens of them. They're universally referred to as cruises so I can't say I believe her. There was the gentleman who said he knew exactly where he wanted to stay in Puerto Vallarta, because it was very important that he be right downtown with all the action and the bars and the pretty ladies. Then he named a hotel in a town nine miles away. Uh huh. The Internet let you down, buddy.
But my favorite is the woman who called asking for fares to San Tomas. I asked which one, Colombia or Venezuela. She was insulting to me and told me to find someone who knew more than I did. I repeated myself, saying I knew of two San Tomas' and which one did she want? She hung up on me. Later, she called and talked to another agent. It turned out she wanted Saint Thomas, which most Americans pronounce with an American accent on account of it's one of the U.S. Virgin Islands. The woman was so busy trying to be fancy about her vacation that she nearly didn't get one. People like that slay me. It's one thing to attempt to say something in the local accent, but it's another to try to impress someone with your fabulousness and suave sophistication. I can't stand oneupsmanship.
Oh, dear, I seem to have the cranky pants on today. It's the lack of sleep, I tell you. Maybe it's time for another foot massage. The cats might as well get used to it.
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