I've become increasingly concerned the GPS on my cell phone is in cahoots with the oil companies. Perhaps Mr. Cell Phone is more concerned with storing my pictures of Mondo, arbitrarily draining my battery, and spell-checking my Scrabble words than it is with assisting me with arriving safely and quickly at my destination.
Up until now, my GPS has been tasked with locating bars and always knowing the address and directions to my rental property's office so I can pay the rent. The office is in a weird little pocket of Southeast Portland that, from what I can tell, is populated by burrito joints and meth houses. If I don't ask for help, I get lost every time.
My last few searches on GPS have directed me in routes that empty my gas tank. And gas is expensive, yo! I've taken roads that lead to no where and driven for miles only to realize I could have done a better job guessing the route. Clearly the oil companies and GPS are in cahoots.
About a week ago, Mondo had what I will refer to as the Incident. I found him seemingly non-responsive and dehydrated. Some where during the day, he apparently hurt his ribs and belly and went into shock. I immediately took him to the vet. When I jumped in the car, I searched the GPS for the address, a clinic on Woodstock.
I immediately knew my GPS was bananas. Even though I was hysterical, in what will hence forth referred to Crying Incident #1 of 2 (there will be a second one, sometime in the next 9 months. Just like the gestation of a baby, it will be a waiting game to see when Crying Incident # 2 appears) BUT! there was no way I was going to take a terrible turn to get on Powell, then to go down 82nd to Woodstock. Crying or no crying, GPS could suck it. Instead I started down Holgate to get to Woodstock, a much more direct route.
The second GPS incident occurred on Sunday night when BF and I were trying to get to JAO's Oscar party in Lake Oswego. I've been to JAO's house a few times, but I always seem to drive there from a different route. BF and I were hauling butt up the hill towards the house when we decided we were going the wrong way. I pulled over to look up the address in GPS. The directions took us in a completely different way and in fact drove us in a big loop, past the turn we should have taken, and back down the hill where we came from, only to direct us up the hill on a parallel street, again passing a place we had just been, before finally putting us on the right street. We were flabbergasted, especially since we had originally been headed in the right direction.
Yesterday, while running errands, I inexplicably had a burning desire for a Chipotle burrito. I live in a neighborhood populated by pho and dim sum joints so I knew it would be a little drive. I asked the GPS to find the nearest one and it directed me towards Clackamas. Not exactly where I wanted to go, but oh well. I drive down to Clackamas and past the address, according to GPS, without seeing Chipotle or even a shopping center. In fact, upon closer inspection, the route abruptly ended in the middle of an intersection.
Just as I was about to give up (perhaps my GPS is in cahoots with Jillian Michaels, too), I realized I knew exactly where Chipotle is. The Clackamas Town Center. Sorry Jillian, sorry Big Oil. I ate a burrito.
Because of the aforementioned Incident, Mondo had to be on a bland diet for four days so that he could rest his belly. and to make sure he could correctly move his bowels.
Is it gross that I mentioned bowels two sentences away from burrito or just appropriate?
I fed Mondo boiled chicken and pumpkin filling for a few days. He came to love it so much that now he thinks anytime I am standing near the stove or handle pots and pans, I must be cooking for him. He is really disappointed when I empty and fill the dishwasher.
After reading a lot of articles and recipes, I've decided to feed him natural food for a while to see if that helps his digestion. He's always had a weird tummy. I think that chicken poop incident at Christmas probably ruined him forever. In another week, I will gradually add back dry dog food until he is just on dry food.
But for now, every time I put his bowl on the ground, and he takes an initial bite and then looks at me, I imagine he is saying "it needs more salt."
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