That's No Bluebird On My Shoulder

Rough week, last week. But after all is said and done, I survived some how. Eddie had a rough few days as well. I have seriously spoiled him by being home the majority of most mornings, and of course, giving him a good amount of attention. Last week, however, there were at least 3 mornings (+ Saturday morning) I had to run out the door almost immediately after getting him up for the day. He didn't take it well. But after my being a couch cowboy yesterday, and being around the house most of today, he seems to have gotten over his dissatisfaction. Truly a blessing for me.
And, after a complete down day yesterday, I was able to get something done around the house. Which helps with my feeling of being able to cope with the insignificant, but very necessary, bullsh-- of day to day living. I am pretty much a failure as a conscientious house keeper, among other things. Albert, my sometime roommate, doesn't care in the least. If anything gets in his way, he bats it aside with one of his baseball mitt sized paws (He's a bear. Literally). And Eddie makes an incredible mess all by himself. As long as he has food to eat, and water to drink, and can demand headrubs routinely, messy or clean makes no difference to him.
But I believe he does have bad dreams sometimes. It would appear that the carefree bird stereotype is not a true picture of life as one of our feathered friends. My sleep is routinely interrupted by symptoms of  my chronic fatigue syndrome, and I often hear him whimpering (best word I can think of to describe it) in his sleep. Sometimes I say something to him, and it seems to help, but I really can't say for sure. I don't know what worries or fears my little friend harbors in his dreams, but I wonder about it occasionally. But I do try to make his daily life as pleasant as I can. He deserves it. He adds color to my life.
Anyroad. Life is a funny old bear (an expression that more commonly ends with dog). Which leads to another old expression, Some days you eat the bear, other days he eats you. And no, I'm not talking about Albert. Lucky for me, thanks to my lending Albert shelter when he wants it, he's at least grateful enough to not eat me. But if I were someone else, say you for instance, well...all bets are off. And as for life, I don't need to eat the bear. I'm happy for a draw (tie).