I am simply going to gloss over the fact that I have not posted anything in the last six months. It has been a challenging year to say the least and for some reason I just couldn't bring myself to do this. Partly because of a depression haze where I felt that everything (and I mean everything) about me is a waste. Partly because of my perfectionist's need to give everything I do 100% and anything less means I have failed and am therefore a failure. When you are pulling yourself in 100 different directions, you can't give everything you do 100% of yourself. It's not possible. I can't be amazing at my 9-5 job, write a children's book, write a blog, take a literature course, write a young adult novel, be a decent wife, get the domestic chores done, go through fertility treatments and also somehow be a decent friend to the people most important to me.
So I am giving myself a pass on this one. I'm through the other side and have a much better, healthier outlook. Being down and completely out this last week with the flu has given me a bit of a hard reset. Life's too short to not do the things you enjoy just for the sake of it. I have goals, and I will get to them in due time. But there is no rush. And if anyone has something to say about it, and I know there are quite a few, fuck 'em. I highly recommend that anyone with a cloud over them right now, strive to do the same everyday. If you feel like there are people out there judging you, people who are hoping for you to fail, just throw up that middle finger and keep on doing the best that you can. Fuck 'em.
On a brighter note, the last six months has given me plenty of material for this lovely little blog. I have started keeping journals. When something happens to me, or crosses my mind, I jot it down. And looking back through all the entries has given me plenty of inspiration.
The obsessive family has a new addition! His name is Shadow, and he is a deaf 14 year old lab with bad hips and the spirit of a, aggravated widower. He is the dog reincarnation of Walter Matthau as Max Goldman in Grumpy Old Men.
How he came to us is a bit of a convoluted story. An older man that we support at work was no longer able to care for his dog. The people Shadow was temporarily passed on to were, to put it mildly, not kind and should not be allowed to have pets. Shadow was likely not going to live much longer and, previously a spoiled house dog, had not been allowed inside for months.
When I explained the story to Scott, he immediately said that we would take the pup in and give him the happiest end of life possible. Full of cuddles, treats and nights by the fire. It was a little rough at first but now he has settled right in. And with some regular exercise, good food and lots of love - I think he is going to be with us a lot longer than we originally thought.
But did I mention he's deaf? I don't mean a little hard of hearing, I mean deaf as a door nail. Cannot hear a bloody thing. Not when his name is called, not when there is a car coming on the road.... nadda. There have been a few times when we've had to chase him down to get his attention. And other times when I know that grumpy old dog has seen me waving him in, and has chose to trot the other way in defiance. Just living his best life. Usually not a problem though. With those arthritic hips, we catch him before he gets himself into trouble.
However, these last ten days I have not been in fighting form. What started as some minor congestion and cough, quickly turned into a nasty chest cold. I was unable to get out of bed for a few days and was immensely fatigued/short of breath the others. Honestly I was a bit worried. And lucky me, Scott was on call this week, coming and going at all hours of the day and night. But when a pup has to go, they gotta go. Indi came to the bedroom and politely woke me up with a cold nose to the ear, asking to be let outside. I made my way down stairs where Shadow was waiting at the door to be let out. In hindsight, this is where it all went wrong. I debated putting them on leashes, but figured with the recent snow and wind, the pair of them would pee as quick as possible and b-line it back for the house.
Oh how wrong I was.
I pulled on my plaid flannel coat and Scott's oversized snow boots for warmth, and opened the door. The pups ran out, and to my surprise, started frolicking in the snow. Tails wagging, jowls flapping, noses covered in white powder. Having a grand time. I couldn't help but smile. The fresh snow seemed to take 12 years off Shadow, and he was just a puppy again. Indi met Shadow in the yard and the pair locked eyes for a brief moment, as if making a decision. I called for Indi, expecting her to turn to head back and for Shadow to follow suit. Instead, she turned her head once more to look at Shadow and the pair began trotting side by side down the driveway towards the snow covered road.
'HEY!' I yelled, 'COME! Get back here.' I began walking down the path to the driveway. Hearing the threat in my voice Indi stopped, considering her options. She chose to veer off the driveway and climb to the top a two foot snow bank, sitting down to watch what was about to unfold.
Shadow, continuing his merry way down the driveway, must have noticed Indi's absence and stopped, turning to see me red fazed and wheezing down the driveway after him. I tapped my hand to the front of my leg and commanded Shadow to 'COME'. He looked at me. Making his decision, he turned back to the road picking up his pace and galloping like a puppy turning onto the road. Essentially the dog version of throwing up gang signs and saying 'Catch me if you can-bitch!'
I rounded the end of the driveway and started hauling ass as fast as I could down the ice covered street in Scott's oversized boots. Panting like an asthmatic smoker with a pack a day habit. I saw a car in the distance and began to panic. Contrary to his name, Shadow looks nothing like a shadow. He is a buttercream/off white, deaf dog jogging down a snow covered road. Not only can he not hear the car, but the driver would likely not be able to see him. I tried to pick up my pace-triggering a coughing fit and stumbled over my boots.
The car was getting closer.
'Shadow you DEAF ASSHOLE! GET BACK HERE!'
I then realize in my panic that I have drifted into the middle of the road. I turn, bracing myself to see the car careening towards me. But thankfully - the lovely lady driving the SUV had seen me erratically running down the road and had come to a stop. She rolled down her window smiling.
Motorist: Don't worry, I see him. Take your time.
Me: I am so sorry! **Wheeze** He is a rescue, he is deaf and apparently he loves the snow. **Wheeze-cough-gag-almost vomit**
In the mean time, Shadow has seen the SUV. Thinking this must be a new friend to play with, he beelines it to the car. I take my shot and reach for his collar unsuccessfully. Shadow slips out of my grasp and begins running around the car. We do two laps around the vehicle when the driver opens her door and kneels down on the ground. Shadow barrels towards her and flops down on to his side for belly rubs.
Motorist: Oh what a cutie! Don't even worry about this. I aways seem to come up on pups giving their owners the run around.
She handed Shadow off to me - and after an exchange of thank yous - we began trekking back to the house.
We made it half way up the driveway, when Indi slid off the snow bank she was perched on - where she sat and watched everything like a lifetime movie - and joined us on our walk back to the house. Where I verbally threatened them the entire way back.
I wish I could say this is an over exaggeration, or just completely not true. But it's not, and it happened. I also spent the next three hours convinced that the police or SPCA would show up to take the dogs from me. Is calling your dog fucking asshole a crime? It was out of panic, but I assume not allowed? But apparently the motorist took pity on my wheezing ass and the police never came to take me away.
Have a wonderful week everyone. And for god's sake - Leash your damn dogs.