I woke up about 4 AM, and couldn't get back to sleep. I had intended to drive husband to work and drop the dogs at Doggy Day Care and come home and sleep. Then, I was wired and figured that I might as well drive 40 miles up North to look at furniture. The place is HUGE. I did get some very good deals to replace what we didn't bring with us, but I walked for 3 hours, got what I needed at the 1st place I saw so all the walking was for nothing, and overdid and exhausted myself more than I already am. I got back to the hotel around 2, sat for about 30 minutes then husband called to say that he had worked out a problem with registering his vehicle - we're out of staters with a new car - which I had asked him repeatedly to do over the weekend and couldn't get word one out of him in response, and he finally got around to this morning. I go pick him up from work to take him across town to get a plate for the car. The biggest problem with this being that I have never been to his work before, just dropped him nearby this morning, and can't really find him. Driving around, and around, and around, calling on the cell telling him to stay put so I can find him. About now is when we find out that the builder hasn't really done any of the repairs to the house to get us in by closing, so our personal belongings are coming and new furniture is coming and we're stuck in this little hotel room with no place to go unless we can light a fire under this guy. We get the plate for the car, and the entire time I'm sitting with an ice-pack on my back. It's a beautiful day, and I do enjoy the warmth and sunshine, so that's cool. But I'm tired and I HURT. Then husband realizes that he has left his I-Pad at work. Drive back uptown and get hisI-Pad. Then drive to the Doggy Day Care to get the dogs. It's right on a busy street downtown with head in parking that's about as deep as the car + 6 feet. While I'm waiting, there are at least 5 cars that come and go, and I see that there is then a big space for me to turn around in so that I can drive into the street instead of backing into it. So, I pull the car around, only to find that I am driving over a parking divider about 6 inches tall and bottom out the car. I swear I can smell fumes, but maybe I just hit the frame. I guess we'll know in the morning if the "check engine" light comes on or we're out of gas. Of course, we'll only know that if I go with him because he will drive it into the ground before he'll check the dash. The dogs get home and they're exhausted. They usually eat around 6 but they are passed out until nearly 8 when I get a look at Mandy's belly and check it out. She's got bite and scratch marks all over it. Oscar is fine and dandy, but they're both riled up from the flight and the strange hotel and the daycare and new surroundings. Mandy's obviously been picked upon by the other dogs. I ask husband to look so that he can say something to them tomorrow when he drops them off because they're too big for me to handle getting in and out of the car. husband has been awful with them. He won't tell them to "sit" or "wait" or anything. He just yanks them around and hits and kicks at them when they don't do what he expects. What? They read minds now? Who's the human and who is the dog here? I've been asking him to stop the physical reactions and start giving them direction since we got here and he keeps ignoring me. We haven't trained them well, so this is a good opportunity to teach them how to safely get out of the car by telling them to wait, or how to walk well on the lead. Oh, no. That's not going to happen. They should just behave! So, he finally feeds them, and Mandy's dish is in the bathroom. Oscar's is in the living room. husband decides that Mandy's dish is under the toilet and she can't reach it - she's a Labrador for crying out loud! She can reach any food! She could dump it on the floor and have it eaten in a heartbeat if the bowl isn't working out. So, he reaches down to move the dish as she is struggling with it and for the first time in her 5 year life, she takes a chunk out of his hand. He kicks and hits her. We have since come to an agreement that he can't hit or kick any more, and that he can only yell after he has given them clear direction to sit and stay before going into our out of any door or meeting people. He is generally good with the dogs because they are good dogs and we don't expect much of them, but he has always hit and kicked at them when they don't do what he wants them to. I'm nervous now that between the new surroundings and husband losing it and dogs biting her that Mandy is going to add biting to her behavioral problems of jumping on people in excitement when they visit. He's angry at me because I'm repeating myself. And by the way? Happy 28th birthday, L. Harumph.