There are other things the universe has not fixed for loved ones of mine, either, this week, and I resent it.
Poodle-assisted yoga helps me keep the fussing to the minimum required by the circumstances, though. Ista has all kinds of theories about what it is that I'm doing. Anything that involves a reaching stretch, I must be looking for something, and so she thoughtfully brings me her toy maki: "Here you go, monkey! You can stop reaching now! Monkey? Here it is. Monkey!" If I'm reaching upwards, it means that there is something good up there that she isn't seeing, so she bounces next to me, trying to see what it is I'm reaching for. And if I hold a pose too long, perhaps I have fallen asleep and need to be awakened with a puppy's investigative licks.
But today there will be stuff: errand stuff and writing stuff and so on. I'm attacking "At the Sign of the Fish and Amulet" again. I think it'll be okay. I'm almost sure. There's only one way to find out.