I'm really not sure how to tell this story.
We were supposed to spend this past weekend in Florida with friends. We had a pet-sitter arranged, and I noted here that I was stressing about it, that I was sure something was going to happen, that he wouldn't make it to the house.
Something did happen. He made it to the house, and Charlie, our youngest dog, decided that he wasn't welcome there. Became uber-territorial. He thought he could make it work, long enough for me to get on the plane to Tampa. Sometime while I was in the air, he decided he couldn't, called Lee, and left the house.
With the dogs roaming free. Alone at night - something they've never had happen at home.
I landed, heard the update, and rescheduled my Sunday evening flight for Saturday morning. Got maybe an hour of sleep (there were 3 available, I couldn't relax), and came back.
We lucked out. No destruction, no injury, although they all slept most of Saturday, out of relief, I think. A friend was able to come over on Saturday before I got back to give Anneke her meds.
We are working on alternative plans for our trips next month, obviously. And I'm super grateful that Charlie didn't bite him (not at all sure that he wouldn't have done so, given the chance, though).
I was 158.2 yesterday morning; 159.2 this morning. No idea what I ate yesterday, truly.
Slept Saturday night with Benadryl, and woke up with a migraine and loads of energy yesterday - not a great combo, really. But I got all of the presents wrapped, and when Lee got back (he dropped me at the airport and headed west shortly after), we got everything boxed up to mail. So that's done. He's taking them off this morning.
From the Facebook posts, it looks like we missed a fun weekend. There will be others. And the dogs will be at a kennel somewhere. At the vets this coming weekend, but hopefully somewhere a bit nicer after that. If we can find a place that deals with the insulin stuff.