The tail tail boot

My injured dog is on the road ro recovery but I must admit that I am still feeling extremely guilty over the whole situation. So guilty in fact that I actually played hooky from work today so that he wouldn't have to wear his lampshade for a few hours.
Am I sick? Am I crazy? I swear everytime he looks at me he's reminding me that I broke his foot. And everytime he slams his cast (boot) down on the concrete my heart breaks just a little more... he just makes me so sad.
Michael keeps telling me that I'm crazy, but I know he thinks the same thing. I'm a bad mom. Every time he tells me to 'watch his toontsies!' he's really saying, 'you should have been more careful.'
I just want to go away for a while. I just want to fly away. Unfortunately instead of me flying away Michael is. He's leaving me for a week, the week of our five year anniversary. And me, in all my brilliance, bought my mother a plane ticket so she could fly up and spend the week with me. What the hell was I thinking? I think I actually seek out stress and unhappiness. I must be out of my freaking mind. An entire week with just my mom and her yappy little pomeranian. Please, do the world a favor and just kill me now.