Mixed results this weekend. I did actually initiate a convo about the animals, but it was short and none too revealing. Actually, it turned into another rant about how W isn’t allowed to do anything she wants to do.
It started off simply enough. We have one dog staying in the house who is a return. He was adopted out to the manager of a Petsmart, but he would never “make up” with her husband and he insisted that she get rid of the dog. I don’t know what happened while he was gone, but this is a different dog than they took. This dog is just plain bad. He pees in the house all of the time. He pulls stuff off of the kitchen counters. He’s been up on the table. He gets into the trash and spreads it all over. He barks incessantly. He’s started gnawing on one of the table legs in the dining room. He’s just bad. But every time I say something, W just comes back with, “He’s just a puppy”, or, “He’s just confused and upset after he’s been bounced around”, or some other such nonsense. The convo started when I told her that she had to do something about the dog.
ZB: W, you have to do something about this dog. You need to find him somewhere else to stay, put him outside, keep him crated, or something. We can’t spend all day watching him to see what he’s going to get into next.
MrsZB: I’ve already talked to OGM (Other Group Member) and she said she would take him. (There was some hold-up so OGM couldn’t take him for a couple more days, but I can’t remember what it was.)
ZB: You know, it’s not just him. The dog situation has gotten totally out of hand around here. Cats too. It’s gotten to the point that every minute of our free time revolves around these animals.
MrsZB: I know, but I’m working on getting this crop moved out. <snipping a bunch of details about plans for specific animals>
ZB: Yeah, but that’s “this crop”. Part of the problem is that every time we start to get down to a manageable number, you bring in another crop.
MrsZB: But…
ZB: No, let me finish. Every time we get close to having a manageable number, you bring in more. Then we have adoptions every weekend. We have vet trips. We have dog stuff to load or unload or whatever. It takes up all of our time. I had a three-day weekend and I only had two things I wanted to do: get a haircut and wash my motorcycle. I never made it to do either one. The kids spend more time taking care of the dogs than they spend on homework. It’s just out of control.
Then the rant started. She always starts these rants, regardless of subject, with some calm and reasonable statement. But invariably, you can see her winding herself up. You can actually see it building on itself. She starts off with something like saying that she spends all of her time doing things for other people and just wants to do something that she likes. That’s quite reasonable and really quite healthy, but it’s like saying it out loud and hearing it makes her angry that other people are making demands on her. So she’ll follow that one with something about the kids always wanting her to do this or make that or telling her that they need this. And you can see and hear how each phrase out of her mouth just makes her a little more upset. By the time she gets done, we’re all a bunch of worthless scum constantly demanding 100% of her time and energy and giving nothing in return. Not even appreciation for all that she does.
Then, having turned the subject from the dog population being out of control to how everybody demands so much of her while doing nothing themselves, she decides that the solution is for her to stop doing things for any of us. You’ve heard this one before. She announces that she’s not doing anything for us, we can fend for ourselves. She’s not shopping, she’s not cooking, she’s not doing laundry, she’s not doing anything. She then goes into the bedroom, slams the door, and turns on the TV.
So the current question is this: what do I do when she launches into one of these rants? I know that there’s no reasoning with her, so my MO has been to just ignore them and let her go. After the rant and the subsequent retreat to the bedroom, she acts surly for a while, but then goes back to normal.
