Food for thought

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to good manners and elegance. In love, you feel the most alive when everything is uncertain, one moment heaven... the next moment hell. You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring. You would be forced to break up with someone who was insecure and in constant need of reassurance. Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... One you can grow with. Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred. In this moment, you think of love as something you can get or discard anytime. You're feeling self centered.

What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

Most of this is freakishly true, cept for the part where it says: "you think of love as something you can get or discard anytime. You're feeling self centered" Neva been that way, neva will. Maybe that's part of my problem. One thing is for certain though - once you hit your 40's, (man, the sound of that really fucking sucks. I am not that old!) your tolerance for insecurity is much lower.

Basically, it boils down to: Be good to me. I will be good to you. I will not screw you over. I want what I want. This is what I want. If you cannot deal with that, or you choose to screw me over, then bubye.

It actually took me 35 years to get up off the floor and truly learn that concept.

Human beings have been practicing this relationship thing for many thousands of years now. I want to know why we aren't better at it. Why do we still tolerate abuse & mistreatment? (I am guilty of it). Why haven't we written down the rights and wrongs of relationships? Why is it just the three "r's" and not the four: reading, writing, rythmatic & relationships?

Why is the formula for the theory of relativity more important than; the formula for raising a child to adulthood successfully or the formula for having a happy, fulfilling life & marriage?


And, why the hell don't children come with directions???

Territory Wars

I called to the cat howling in the kitchen window. There must have been an intruder in the yard she was warning off. She ran down the hall and leapt on the bed with a "reeeeoow!"

This caused Julietta to bolt upright and trot down the hall to the living room rug. I turned on the nightstand light only to be greeted by a "RUFF!" The first time she had barked since moving in with us. It was an assertive, insistent bark.

I walked down the hall to see what that was all about. She looked up at me with eyes that said "Get that thing out of our den or I'm sleeping on the couch!". It wasn't until she sniffed the entire bedroom and was convinced the unwelcome feline was gone that she settled into her crate.

Next I'll be hearing "Maaaawm! She's touching me. Am not. Yes you are! I'm not touchiiing you......"

Stealth Tactics

Julietta is settling in nicely and I think the pussies have resigned themselves to the fact she's staying. Neither of the cats had set foot in my bedroom where Julietta's crate is since she arrived. Until last night.

I had just climbed into bed and turned out the lights. I opened my eyes to see a silhouetted black cat slinking across the nightstand. I heard her purr as she rubbed against my cheek. She stayed for a few minutes of scratching but then retreated to the safety of the living room, after all, "that thing" was in here.

This is fine for now - it's still warm out. Warm enough to leave the windows open every night. Unseasonably warm. That will change though. We will see how long it takes before the call of body heat becomes stronger than ego.

The Patch

Trying again

Friday night I had my last cigarette. Saturday morning I woke up sick as a dog with a bad cold. Either someone up there is trying to help me, or has a twisted sense of humor. Using a nicotine patch definitely helps with the cravings. Plus - you have very vivid, intense dreams.

Last night for instance - I dreamt that I found out my son was buying drugs from hearing him talk in his sleep. Oh, and paranoid Mama ain't going through his drawers later? I realize it's been on my mind lately - he's at that age. I watch him closely when he returns from hanging with friends. The subconscious mind is an amazing thing, especially when nicotine powered!

Progress

Julietta is settling in quite nicely. Her appetite has picked up. The cats have settled down and just glare at the beast that had invaded their home. Julietta still tries to be friendly, getting closer each time before being hissed at. She actually got close enough to touch Tabitha, who reared up on her hind legs and batted at her nose. Julietta thought this was a cue to play and immediately dropped into a play stance with butt high in the air, ears up and front legs down. Tabitha gave a Screw you! I am not playing! hiss, and that was the end of that.

Wednesday, I left to pick my son up from the bus stop. I was gone for 15 minutes. I left her loose in the house. Upon our return all we could hear was a mournful wailing and crying emanating from the house. She doesn't like being separated from her people. Going to work Friday would be tough.

Bedtime is going much smoother now. Her first night she cried for 45 minutes in her crate. I had to reverse position on my bed and left my hand hanging through the crate bars. Now, she will lay in my bedroom doorway, waiting for me to go to bed.

We left the house at 6:15 AM Friday. Julietta was in her crate. I was already feeling pangs of guilt for leaving her. I had planned on leaving work early, only doing a partial day, but I got hung up in a two and a half hour meeting with my boss. I didn't get home until 1:45.

I heard meek winces from my bedroom when I entered the house. I immediately went to her and was very surprised by what I had found. The king sized sheet and bedspread that I had left on top of the crate had been pulled in through the bars and torn to shreds. Ouch. She was supremely pissed at being left alone. Guilt overflowed. I can only imagine what she went through. She must have cried and wailed and thought we had abandoned her. The bedding was soaked with saliva and sweat (greyhounds do sweat). She was pleased to see me and I did my best to reassure her. We immediately went for a walk, for the first time she was pulling on her lease to get to her toilet. She peed and pooped and felt relieved enough to finally dance a jig of joy and express how happy she was that I was home. Poor thing must have been so uncomfortable. We started back home and she peed & pooped again!

For the next hour I couldn't turn around without her being right behind me. If she could have climbed into my back pocket, she would have. We both went to pick up her boy from the bus stop. She collapsed on her living room bed once we were home. I think she was emotionally exhausted. We both spent a lot of time brushing and scratching her last night. I was almost ready to start calling her Thumper for all the spots we hit that caused her legs to start going involuntarily. She reluctantly went into her crate for bed.

My plan is to leave her for short periods today and longer periods tomorrow. Greyhounds can develop separation anxiety and I want her to know that we will always be back and will not abandon her.

The love that has developed so quickly in my heart for this gentle soul has filled a void as only a dog can. When her intelligent brown eyes look into mine, all the annoyances of the day melt away. To watch her toss her stuffed mouse high in the air and play like a puppy is a hoot. She actually rolled on her back and was kicking her long legs high in the air. Surprising behavior from a 5 year old dog. This was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

Introductions...

did not go as well as planned.

Son waited on the porch, whilst I corralled the felines to whom I am staff. Not an easy feat in itself. Propped on the couch with one under each arm in a firm hold, they were already pissed. Once Julietta made her entrance with muzzle in place, much hissing and growling ensued.

Poor Julietta, who had previous feline friends was quite offended at the rejection. She approached for a friendly sniff and was greeted by loud hissing in stereo. She backed away and put her head down. Cuddles, my fat calico kitty, proceeded to growl ferociously. This was a cat that had lived with a dog, albeit 11 years ago. She was the one I feared would run away. I was wrong. This crusty old lady (18) stood her ground. Her eyes were as big as saucers and her tail looked like she had been electrocuted, but she was loudly voicing her protest.

Tabitha, on the other hand (literally) was attempting to disappear into the cushions of the couch. This surprised me. Tabitha is the princess of the house. She gets extremely jealous of any attention I pay to Cuddles and will pounce on my poor senior citizen to let her know. She had dinnerplate eyes and a very big tail as well.

Luckily, neither cat bolted when released. Although they retreated to higher ground, they let the intruder know that this was their turf and they were not pleased.

Julietta kept a keen eye on the hostiles and gave them a wide berth.

It's a GIRL!

Julietta

Aren't I gorgeous

64.6 pounds, Brindle colored, 26 inches at her shoulder. She'll be 5 years old on October 1st.

It was a long night last night. My son's enthusiasm was barely containable. We finally left to bring her home around 7:30pm. We had to stop by my parents house of course. My Grandmother had been as excited as my son.

My son sat in the back seat, with one section down flat and a comfy cushion for Julietta to lay on. "She has her head on my knee! She has to keep her paws touching me!" Those words touched a chord deep within me. I can remember growing up and wanting to have a special connection with the family pets. I think he has always felt a little left out because I am nothing more than a bed for my cats. I sit on the couch and they are on me. Add the bird, who adores me, to the mix and I look like Mrs. Doolittle. I hoped he would bond with Julietta.

All of those fears were laid to rest when we were at my Grandmothers. My son went to get the muzzle from the car to show the family. Julietta trotted like a horse to the door, she bolted back to the table whining...where's my boy? Where did he go? It was my turn to feel a wee bit green with envy. She had taken to my boy like a duck to water. My heart warmed. Every boy should have a dog. There is nothing that can be compared to the loyalty of a dog. A best friend that will never get mad at you, or bored with your company. Just being with you is enough. She will be waiting at the door, hearing his footsteps on the road home. The sheer joy in her eyes at seeing her "boy" can melt away the worst of days. The adventures they will go on!

He beamed from ear to ear when Nana told him how upset she was that he had left, how she was crying for him. "She missed me? She was crying for me?" It had happened, that inexplicable connection that would make them friends for life. None of us could be happier.

The connection, excitement and a whole new environment for Julietta made for a long night for me.

Finally......

I got a phone call yesterday from the greyhound lady. She was all apologies for not having gotten back to me sooner. We are going to be allowed to adopt Bugsy. There is another problem though - Bugsy has shown interest in their test cat. He is going to be tested again. If he isn't cat approved, at least we will be able to adopt another.

I think it will be him though. If I can teach my cats not to chase my bird, I can probably teach the dog not to chase the cats. One swipe from Tabitha's claws could do the trick too. We will see.

Waiting....

There has been a development in my dog adoption. I received a call Tuesday from the lady about my reference at my vet. They don't have a record of me bringing my cats in. That's because I have not brought my cats in. They are indoor cats and I was told years ago by my vet (different than current one) that I didn't really need to bring them in unless they were sick - but they would have to get vaccinated if they ever were brought in.

This didn't jive too well with the lady in charge of adoptions. I relayed my history of pets and how I feel about them, to me they are family members, not pets. I offered to bring my cats in immediately for rabies vaccines if that would be required of me. She didn't want me to do that just yet - she needs some more time to think about if I would be a good adoptee parent or not....And she'd call me later in the week.

So I have been waiting to hear from her. I understand her position. She doesn't want to send the dog off to someone that wouldn't take care of him or provide annual checkups/proper medical care. It's very disappointing to me. I've waited 11 years - until I felt able to give the proper care and attention a dog requires. I've waited until I felt my son was old enough and responsible enough. I've waited until I was in a position that I could afford medical treatment if it is required. And I'm still waiting.......

I do hope I get a phone call today and I can pick up my boy tonight or tomorrow. I do hope the lady realizes that this dog will be treated like a member of the family. That I will provide whatever care necessary to keep him healthy and happy. Hell, if I will do it for my bird, of course I'd do it for a dog!

If I am not permitted to adopt Bugsy.......There are a lot of other Greyhounds out there that need good homes. Please, send a little positive mojo Bugsy's way so that he gets to make mine, his forever home. Thanks.

Road Rash

Pocket Mini Bike

My son acquired one of these about a month ago. He's been pretty good about being careful on it, at least when within sight of our home. I don't let him ride it after dark, or any main roadways. He always wears his helmet too. Good thing too - he wiped out last night. He found out that sand is slippery when you are on a bike. He tore up his elbow pretty good, and has slight road rash on his back. He's lucky. It could have been a lot worse.

Unfortunately, he doesn't see it that way. He can be such a drama queen. He almost immediately started in with being too injured to go to school tomorrow. "You'll live, you're going to be sore, but you are going to school tomorrow". That was all the sympathy I could muster for him, and it pissed him off. "Fine! Then I will go to the nurses office and stay there for the day! You'll have to come pick me up!" I wasn't taking the bait though. He actually had me put a sling on his arm because it hurt too badly to straighten it out. He was milking it, big time.

He calmed down once the adrenaline rush subsided. He soaked in a nice hot bath for a bit and felt better afterwards. Once he was convinced he didn't need stitches or hospitalization he turned his attention to the bike. It got pretty scratched up too, he believes the forks are bent - I couldn't see it. I finally told him to leave it until tomorrow because he was too shaken up to think clearly.

I've been extremely fortunate my son has never had a serious injury. The only ER trip I ever made for him was when he was 6 and hit himself in the head with the claw end of a hammer. It required 3 stitches to close. I blew the motor in my Ford Tempo doing 80 on the way to the hospital. This could have been a lot worse. A lot.

Blood an guts visions kept flashing through my head as I bandaged him up. My cool demeanor belied my inner turmoil. As parents we always want to keep our kids safe, no matter how old they are. It's not easy for a mother to let her child go. He isn't my blond little baby anymore. I couldn't just kiss it and make it better like I used to.

I said a prayer and thanked God for watching over my boy. I know his Guardian Angel works a lot of overtime, for that, I am grateful.