Last week I got myself hopelessly tangled up. Not with yarn (although that's a mess, too) — but with my brain and heart. Waiting on test results for the Weary Dog wore me out. Premature speculation from the vet was pretty much the end of me. The final verdict is that he is dying... but not yet. Just like many of us. Antibiotics down the gullet for a few weeks, and a change in food, and fingers crossed he will be the spunky character we're used to, careening awkwardly around the house. In the meantime, it took the better part of the weekend to disentangle the chaos.
Reminder to self: Stop, Drop, and Roll with it, baby.