The new pad is two stories. I’ve never lived in a house with more than one floor before so this is new territory for me.

We also live with two dogs:  Madison – who is the calmest, most awesome dog I’ve ever met; and Duke, who is possibly the spawn of Satan. Lucky for him he’s fucking adorable while asleep so we keep him around. So Duke LOVES THE STAIRS. He will go up and down them just for shits and giggles. Madison, on the other hand is pushing ten years old and could give a shit. She won’t go up or down the stairs unless convinced that the humans are going to be on that level for a while and even then, sometimes she just says, “fuck it” and stays put. Can’t say I blame her. STAIRS ARE HARD.

SHUT UP. They are. Having to climb them after the new trainer has made me do twelve too many squats borders on torture. And I have to schlep shit up and down the stairs. Not to mention the falling hazards. I mean think about it. The law of averages says that at some point you are going to bust your ass on a set of stairs. It’s just a question of when – not if. Couple that with a bat shit crazy terrier mix who LOVES the stairs and my odds of sustaining a stair-related injury just increased exponentially.

I just hope said accident doesn’t end up with me having to use a walker. That shit would suck.

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