dogs


patchen3

If you give up and surrender then change can come into your life. I have to give up all of my beliefs, all of my concepts, and start over. Re-learn the world. Like a toddler, I will simply stumble around in a gleeful blissful state of not knowing anything. Because everything I have learned, everything I have believed in, everything I thought I knew has been wrong.  I believed I had a chance of  an increase in my hours at work. I believed that I might be making more money and be able to improve my living situation, I believed that things couldn’t get worse, I believed that I had a chance.  Well I’m not getting more hours at work, I’m not going to be making more money. In fact, I’ve even had an hour cut from my schedule. It’s just an hour, but still.  I believed that I could pull myself out of this hole of depression and madness. I believed that I was funny and attractive. I believed that I could carry off faking it a little longer.

It’s all off the table. I’m going to surrender. And I think surrendering to some form of god is the only thing left for me. I don’t know which form of god. But I have to give myself up to something bigger than myself. Let someone or something else take over for a while. Cleanse my mind, my soul, my body. Wipe the slate clean and start over. What am I talking about? I don’t know . I’m on the reference desk and slightly sedated with the help of some valium in order to make it through the day without a constant stream of tears running down my face. Crying is cleansing but it also wrecks your makeup and makes you look like a crazy person on the reference desk.  I bought some Lotto tickets.  I’m taking my dog to the rescue people next week. I’m going to have my paycheck garnished by several creditors. But in the end it’s only money. My daughter has relatives who can care for her if I cannot. We’ll just wait and see what happens.  I like valium.

rat

I found this post title in my draft posts the other morning. I think my intention that late night back on July 3, was to write about my ratty who I had discovered dead at 3 a.m. when I got up to get a glass of juice.  Wonder what I thought I could write in my sleep walking state? Oh well… that shall remain a mystery. At any rate, as those 2 of you who read my drivel know, I have had two black hooded female rats for a couple of years. Delilah came first and then we decided she needed company and bought Baby. They have been delightful creatures but I have found them to be fairly high maintenance and somewhat demanding. They’re smart, so they need attention.  I am guessing since Baby died, Delilah will probably go soon since they were each other’s world. These will be the last rodents we will own. Ever. We have had white mice, hamsters, pygmy hamsters and now rats. They don’t live long and the cemetary plot is getting full.

Scout’s ashes came back in a sweet little wooden box. We put it by a photo of him and my daughter and put his purple collar over the picture frame. The loss of  Scout still looms on my psyche’s horizon. I never fully grieved his death. And now we have Willy. Crazy Willy. He’s like a giant Scout with brain damage. It all makes for some very weird feelings.  Developing affection for a new dog is not difficult for me, being an avid animal lover, but still I feel like I’m betraying Scout in some way.  It’s as if I took my emotions and stuffed them in a bag and then just tacked them onto Willy. Weird and disorienting on some level.

On other fronts, the train keeps barrelling down the crazytracks. I’ve decided to just start chasing butterflies and give up on worrying about anything.  Besides, I hear conflicting stories about the world ending or being beset by solar flaring in 2012 according to the Mayan calendar, so if I can just keep the bill collectors at bay for a few more years I should be set.

elyse-and-teenie-weenie

Seems to me that if I’m not lamenting something or ranting about something in life, my posts are not that catchy or interesting. Does happiness put a dent in creativity? Not for that godawful guy who paints those schmeeezy paintings…. lovely ponds with stone bridges over them and  a snug little house in the distance behind all the flowering trees and butterflies….what the hell is his name? Something or other Kincaid.

Anyway…. I think it’s an adjustment. That’s all. Why worry about it anyway? I am not compelled. It’s not a calling. It’s merely some form of  expression, perhaps therapeutic  at times, but if the blog sucks, it sucks.  Sporadic. Frequent. Rarely. It doesn’t matter.

Now. Let’s talk about those puppy mills. The picture above is of my daughter cradling the tiniest little Pomeranian I’ve ever seen (about 4 lbs at approx. age 2). This poor little dog was taken in by my friend Barbara for fostering although I believe she has bonded now to the point that Barb will just keep her. This dog was most likely a “breeder”, meaning she was never let out of her small cage and, consequently, has severly bowed back legs. Barb said that when they first got her, she didn’t seem to understand the concept of walking. She could stand but didn’t really know how to walk. She has bounced back amazingly well and now runs around the house barking and interacting with Barb’s other two dogs.

Here’s a LINK to what the Humane Society of the US has on its page about Washington’s regulations on puppy mills.

State Sen. Jeanne Kohl-Welles, D-Seattle, and Rep. Sherry Appleton, D-Poulsbo, have introduced legislation to limit the number of breeding dogs a person can possess as well as establish some basic care standards for dogs. These would include providing clean food and water and allowing dogs to leave their cages for at least an hour of exercise each day. Since this is a nationwide problem, and considering that Washington state is one of the more liberal, I am guessing that other states don’t have much in the way of laws agains puppy mills either. I am researching.

Since I originally wrote this post, Barb has indeed adopted the little dog. Also, I have discovered that the Amish are among the most prolific puppy mill breeders. The Amish? Go figure.

dream

She woke from her fevered sleep and looked around the room. All was dark. Still. Unfamiliar. Was she dreaming or awake? Always hard to tell in these early morning hours. Then she felt him beside her, his leg draped lightly across her thigh. For a minute there was something else,  pushing against her as she lay on her side. She pushed back with her hips and met it, inviting it to penetrate her. She could feel herself opening to it, willing it to come inside. Now… just. there.

The light changed.  She turned onto her back and opened her eyes. It was gone. He was gone.  She was alone on her tiny mattress on the floor.  The rats  in the next room scratched and gnawed  in their cage, crazy with the  futility of struggling against the wheel that had been clamped immobile for the night so she could sleep without the constant screech of metal on metal as they bounded forever to nowhere.  At the foot of the mattress the little dog’s paws trembled as he dreamed of running, chasing something he could never quite catch.

Throwing the covers off,  she crawled to the coffee table and retrieved her cell phone to check the time. 3:40 am.  It was a dream. She wanted more.  Making her way back to the mattress she settled again on her side as the dog repositioned himself under the quilt at her feet, his warm breath against her toes.  Her breath fell into rythm with his and she drifted off to sleep.

evans35

So I’m driving to work today in a state of sheer panic over the overdrafts that are headed my way at the bank, again, after shelling out $380 for car repairs this week.  I’m listening to NPR.  A guy from Slate magazine is discussing good stocks for investment  now that Obama is in office. Obama has an I-Pod, so invest in Apple. Obama vacations in Hawaii, so surely people will be flocking to Hawaii to catch a glimpse of him and that hot bod in his swmsuit,  so invest in Hawaiian Airlines.  Target has a designer that is helping with some redecorating at the White House, so Target looks good too because we’re all going to want to have that Obama style aren’t we????  And last, but not least, there’s some company that runs gyms all over the country to which Obama has access for his frequent workouts.  Since folks  will surely want to hop on the treadmill next to the pres,  memberships are going to soar, so invest there too,  ladies and gents.

I just want enough money to cover my overdraft charges for the month. I never ever in my life had overdraft charges with any bank. Until the last few months where I figure I’ve paid close to 800 bucks or more in said charges.  I keep borrowing money from my ex-husband, who is not really my ex-husband yet because we’ve been too lazy to file the paperwork, so technically I’m still his legal liability if I go under…..  he has no money either since he works as a custodian and he’s about to drop dead from the hard work at age 59…..  but still he lends me money from the home equity line of credit he took out on the house. Yes, he got the house…  I got the crappy bunker style apartment…. long story……

Now pardon me – I have to go and invest all that money I don’t have in whatever operation breeds the dog that the Obamas choose for First Dog.  Or just start breeding them myself.  Puppy Mills for Obamaniacs !!!

Wow. These girls are amazing. Personality, sweetness, hilarity… these girls are amazing. Did I just say that??? I never thought I could love rats so much – I’m a dog person.. but they are like extremely small dogs…. they come when you beckon (usually), they jump on your lap, they want to be with their humans. They’re crawling on me as I type this very blog. And they are so funny to watch… hunched up on their hind legs looking for the next adventure, yawning as they lie snuggled together in their hammock.. running around the house, Baby’s nose to Delilah’s tail…. endless entertainment…

Oh.. and then this came to me this morning…

I felt strangely happy today. Probably because the sun was actually out for a while. “Strange” because happy is not an emotional state I’ve experienced in quite a while.

This winter/so called spring has been really hard on a lot of people in my life. I don’t know if we can attribute it to Bush, global warming, the flu epidemic, the economy, Iraq, general malaise or what – but I would say it’s been a rough few months… and then it came to me:

We’re all just here to hold each other up. To help each other through the shit that life deals. That’s it, plain and simple. The meaning of life. It’s about the people you hold dear and being there for them. If we come across people who are not going to be there for us and help in the holding up, then we have to let them go or at least not count them as part of our primary landscape…

Male or female, friends, family or lovers…. we are only here to support and help each other … and we’re all a little crazy on some level. So we don’t need to beat ourselves up for our shortcomings because we all have them. The key is helping each other out.

I don’t know. It helped me crawl out of my hole. Maybe it will help you.

PS: And and then there was John Stewart asking Obama tonight: “If you win will you enslave the white race?” Now we all have to love that…..

Today it is raining…. surprise! I was supposed to get my yard cleared by the lawn service people but i suppose the rain cancels that out. I woke up at 9 to take E. to school as she missed the bus. Came back home and went back to sleep till 1. My day off work and I feel like a total waste. In fact, I feel on the verge of totally losing it. I blog because it might help put a stopper in the drain before I go spinning down into it. Obama…. where are you when I need you? Obama….. you’re supposed to care about me. Obama… you’re supposed to feel the pain of the struggling single mother with stability issues. And I have a dog too. Don’t you love the puppies Obama?

I’m going to take care of myself and stop this madness. Early to bed, early to rise. No more men. Suddenly it’s raining men around here and I am losing my shit. T4 has gone over the horizon.. nothing but a trail of dust left behind. But I don’t think a replacement part is the solution. Too late. Here comes the next one arriving on the crazy bus….. Me? I’m going to hightail it to a nice cozy place under the next rock I can find.

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