@Palmetto I think I do the same thing as you and I was in a pretty similar situation to yours a couple of years ago. I curled up in the chair next to my mom's hospital bed and sorta napped/daydreamed several times a week to avoid the impulse to bolt. Felt guilty about not being more proactive, but the guilt just made me want to crawl under something all the more. So, yeah. You're not a terrible daughter. You're just coping, I think. :)
My day is finally almost over and I got sick using the microscope (motion sickness) and basically FLEW to the ladies' and I have a hard and fast rule that if I puke once, it's time to go home, but I CAN'T cuz WORK. :(
Two dogs, two stories.
Molly P. Wallaby. I was in college and decided I needed a furry companion, so I went to the local no-kill shelter and somehow managed to find the best little furry creature ever. She was filthy, and smelly, and mysteriously hairless in spots. When I met her, she sat back on her rump and gently offered her front paws as a greeting, I guess. And that was it. She had just been brought in that day (after nearly being hit by an 18 wheeler), so the rescuers said I could foster her until they found her owners. I hoped I'd never get the call to bring her back, and I never did. Best. Dog. In. The. Universe. And after a few baths, she turned out to be the prettiest darn dog I ever saw.
Ellie Mae. I decided to take up running, and my first day out, I noticed a clicking noise behind me. I turned around and saw this ridiculous little dachshund mix with these huge swollen teets swinging back forth and these really long claws (the clicking noise!) and these little floppy ears. She followed me all the way home, even after I'd circled back a few times, trying to lose her. It was obvious she'd recently had puppies, so we went door to door and posted ads and flyers and nobody claimed her. So she's ours now. She has adapted wonderfully. She got her own special collar and tag recently, so now she is ONE OF US.