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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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Tuesday, Oct. 17, 2006 - 12:50 p.m.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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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.

Changing Habits and Losing a Friend

Egads my life is screwy now without the doggie.

I have no punctuation.

It is like starting a sentence without a capital letter, to not have to take her out before breakfast... it makes me feel something is missing, and I find it hard to time my day... if there is not a doggy who is waiting with a full bladder, why get out of bed right then?

No arthritis meds to put in her food while my coffee brews and the oatmeal cooks.
No old water to dump into the plants to get new fresh water for her breakfast... oh no, will I ever remember to water the plants now? Will they survive without dog drool and floating kibble?

Hard to hustle to get working when I don't think "oh, I just have three hours before doggywalkies". And now I have been working and it is lunchtime, and I am thinking, "I gotta stop and get outside" .

Why? What would I do outside at lunch? I eat in the house (after doggiewalkies). I no reason, no destination to go outside. If I am not hungry, I could just keep working. And then I have no clue if it is morning or afternoon. I am all confused re time of day.

Same in the afternoon.
I got myself to quit work in the studio, get off the phone with clients, whatever, to rush out the door so I had enough time to walk with her at her speed to the coffeeshop, fit in an hour of cartooning, and be done in time for us to walk to the park for her pre-supper walk with her doggy pals.

Now the day just floats by. I think it is three pm and it is noon. I think it is five pm and it is 7:30.

I am just clueless. There is always something missing.

This stress feeling at the back of my head of "hurry and finish up" and I check in to see why, and it is cuz I am expecting a paw scraping on the door, knocking three times "come on, it is time NOW to go walkies". And then I am sad again.

I can go out shopping all day and then stop in a coffeeshop for supper, and not have to rush home. I don't have to consider her speed and ability, where to tie her etc when planning my errand itinerary so she can walk with me. I don't have to shop on the way to the park and buy my purchases on the way home so I don't carry them. I can buy things and carry them straight home.

Now that the huge bag of dogfood is no longer between the kitchen garbage can and the wall, my foot is lost when I go to step on the peddle to throw something in the trash: the can is againt the wall, more than a foot too far back.

I moved the catfood into the kitchen cuz there isn't a doggy who might eat it anymore... and the space was where doggy ate. Now that it is free, may as well use it for the cats. They are all confused, and even with a full bowl in the kitchen, meow and drag me to the empty space in the studio where they demand to be fed.

I walk up to my place and have to restrain myself from making the "moomanoo" sound I used to announce my impending arrival. I know that if I do that, as I have done every day multiple times for years, there will be no responding clinking sound as she lifts her head in the direction of my voice, happy I am home. There is no doggy at the gate or door to greet me. My eyes look quickly under the steps then behind the bush to see where she is, even when my mind is elsewhere. I end up with tears in my eyes everytime I arrive, by the time I get my key in the door.

And then there is no sleeping body just waking hustling to get out of the way of the opening door. No worrying about drool on my clothes as I enter, and dog fluffies on my jacket.

I don't have to decide between the "dog jacket" and the "clean jacket". Looking to see if it is raining, so I should wear my dirty jeans today cuz I'll just get muddy from her in the park is no longer necessary. I could wear white. Or clean clothes. Heck. I could even wear non-muddy-park-friendly footwear. I don't have to wear rubber boots when it has already stopped raining cuz I won't be walking in tall wet grass.

I don't have to make sure I have poopybags in my coat pockets before I leave. I don't have to fill up her water bottle and carry it with me everywhere.

The floor will stay clean when I vacuum it and wash it. The carpets won't be full of fur. I can wash the walls and she won't muddy them or drool on them.

There is tons of space in my cupboards, where my plates look lost in empty space without a bottle of Metacam in the front corner, a bottle of glucosamine in the back corner, a bottle of devil's claw in the space between the plates and the bowls. I don't need a little jar of bacon grease in the fridge anymore to dip her pills into so she'll eat them.

Her wet and muddy towels won't be cluttering up the entry.

I can go to the countryside or to friend's places without thinking how I'll transport her.

I can start worrying about being a woman living alone, and if anyone will break in now that there isn't a large dog sleeping in the front yard.

I won't have to go into the back alley and to that neighbor's front yard where they redid the foundations three years ago, and the renters let the weeds grow unfettered, to pull out all the yard-tall burr plants this fall. There will be no doggy dragging against them everyday when she makes a pee or poop, to catch them in her fur and bring them home.

I won't have to worry that a child I adopt might be allergic to dogs.

I won't have to calculate her boarding into my finances for travel anymore, or trade doggysitting.

I can't complain anymore I have no time to get into shape cuz I spend all my free time walking very slowly, not too far, with an old arthritic doggy.

The day flows by, uninterrupted.

I miss her so.

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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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