Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing
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Thursday, Apr. 29, 2004 - 12:00 a.m.
WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.
Bad Doggy Mommy Makes Puppy Hurt
I feel like such a MEAN NASTY doggymommy! Bad bad bad!!
I walked my friend to the subway... well most of the way... I was worried about my doggy's arthritis, and walking too far away from the house, since every block we walked was double, since we'd have to rewalk it coming home.
I mentioned it to my friend that I might not go all the way.. and she was like oh fine! (she has dogs too, though of the miniature variety). And yet when she said "ok you don't have to go any further, I'm concerned about your doggy", I said "oh, she seems to be walking really quickly and doing great, no problem".
 | Famous last words. I accompanied her for another three or four blocks. Well, coming back was hell. She was limping. She was wanting to sit down. She was walking with her head low and panting and looking up at me with sad eyes. She weighs 110 pounds. I cannot carry her. She is afraid of my wooden wagon which bumps along (won't even walk beside it cuz it makes her skittish) which is the only thing I could think of pulling her home on. |
I considered leaving her twelve or fifteen blocks from home, coming home, making a reservation for a community carshare car, getting the key, picking up the car, getting her into it, driving her home, returning the car.
It seemed excessive for such a short walk (about ten minutes).
So I cajoled her and pulled her, encouraged her and grumped at her, smiled and ordered.
We are home now (after a brief stop about 5 blocks from home where at a red light she lay down and I didn't know if she was going to move again).
I feel like a real miserable mean shit. I should've played safe. I should've turned back, instead of wanting to chat with my friend longer while we walked.
And I didn't and I made my doggy walk in pain under duress.
Bad doggy mommy.
I will have to see if I can rig something with bicycle wheels I can pull her in. As it is now, I can't even really take her to the big park... walking there, around the park, and home is the equivalent to what we walked tonight. She is so happy to walk there, happy to walk around, and then hurting and wanting to stop when we need to walk home. And I have to force her in pain.
Horrid. At least if I could pull her there, walk around the park, and pull her home.
I see golden retrievers sometimes being pulled behind bicycles in those kiddy bicycle carts. But they don't work for a 100pound plus dog. And I need to make it solid enough she is not afraid to step into it. EEK.
Must do something. My doggy needs fun and exercise, but I can't make her hurt.
:( Sad wenchie, me.
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previous meanderings - future past
Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009
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