Tag: emotions

My Poor Charlie

Poor Charlie, he’s having a bit of a struggle getting used to this total disruption into his world.  Most dogs prefer a routine.  They like a schedule, getting fed at a certain time every day, taking their walks at the same time daily and knowing that you’ll be there for loves are their whole world.  Charlie is the poster dog for routineness.  So these latest events, my surgery, Mitch walking the dogs alone in the evenings and our close friend walking them in the mornings and not at the usual 4:30am pre-surgery routine has thrown Charlie for a real loop.

He’s become clingier, staying very close to me or if I’m not in bed, laying in my spot.  He has started growling at all of us.  Charlie has always been a bit psychotic, but now he’s going round the bend.  He was lying in his bed by the bedroom door when Orso walked in from the living room.  Charlie growled at Orso and wouldn’t let him in the bedroom.  Orso sat in the living room looking very pathetic waiting for me to get out of bed and crutch over to the doorway, blocking Charlie so that he could come into the bedroom.

Last night I came into the bedroom to find Charlie lying in my spot all cozy and had no intention of moving.  I told him to go and nudged him, he responded by growling at me.  I looked down at him and thought, “Are you kidding me?  Not me! Huh uh!”  So I told him “off” in no uncertain terms and gave him another nudge, to which Charlie responded by getting up, giving me a deep open throated growl, jumped off the bed and when to sit in his dog bed looking very unrepentant.  I’m pretty sure that he was thinking, “How dare she make me move.  I was there first.”  I think he was plotting to eat me in the night while I slept.

Charlie doesn’t handle change well and this is clearly apparent with his behavior.  When we brought Orso home for the first time Charlie wanted to kill him and tried a few times.  That took hiring an animal behaviorist to get back to a harmonious house.  I’m not sure how to fix this new wrinkle.  I’m at a total loss.

Short of tranquilizers, for him not me, I am not sure what to do.

The Spa Vacation is Over

Well today is the day.  This luxurious spa vacation is over.  Today I go back to work.  This is going to be fun, I keep telling myself.  I’m going to go back to a mountain of unread emails and scribbled notes left on my keyboard, saying “Welcome back I need this done before 8am” (I usually get there about 6:15am) or “Glad you are back, please look into this and explain how this could have happened” (the fact that walking is a going to be a challenge is beside the point).

Friends are worried and don’t want me to go in quite as early because no one else is there, that’s the reason I go in early, no one else is there.  I get more done in the early morning quiet.  But my new biggest challenge will be trying to get in the doors at work.  Early birds have to scan a badge against an electronic reader on the side of the entry wall wedged behind a concrete standing ashtray about five feet from the first set of doors.  The doors are unlocked for about three to five seconds, so I have to hobble from behind the giant ashtray to the doors in under four seconds.  No hill for a stepper.  Then if I’m successful there I have to enter a passcode on the keypad against the sidewall again about five feet from the second set of doors.  The floor is clear of obstacles here so I have a better chance of getting to the doors before they re-lock leaving me stuck in the entryway waiting for someone to come rescue me.

If I am successful there, then the rest will be a cakewalk.  Hobble through the building, open the first fire door, crutch myself up two flights of stairs and open the second fire door at the top of the stairs without knocking myself down one of the flights of stairs.  Easy peasy.

Once I’m through the door chaos awaits.  Maybe I should take my drugs with me.  Mitch assures me that this will be an adventure.  I think he secretly wants me to stay home.

Mitch is a Saint

The true test of any relationship comes when one member, in this case me, becomes disabled albeit short term and has to rely pretty much on the other for just about everything.  Poor Mitch, good thing he has the patience of Job.  I am stubborn, willful and very independent.  So now being dependent upon another is a tough pill to swallow, even though I am truly grateful he is here.

Yesterday I had foot surgery to remove a bunion and have two toes shortened.  Sounds like fun, huh?  There is even a name for it, a bunionectomy.  There were bones removed and bones shaved off, and because of that I can’t put any weight on my left foot for three months.  Compliments of wearing cute shoes years ago.  I guess we won’t be going dancing anytime soon.

Now Mitch has to do double duty.  Walking the dogs, laundry, cooking and all the yard work.  Granted, he already does all of the laundry and all of the ironing woohoo!  Walking the dogs has been a joint effort on our part but now it’s all his.  Cooking and yard work are my domains.  I have to rely on Mitch to not mow down everything in his path.  God grant me patience.

Not only does he have to take up my slack, but he has to take care of me.  Following me on my crutches and righting me before I crash and burn.  Grace is my middle name, even with two good feet.  Poor man, he is going to be very busy.

I had been planning this surgery for months, and trying to get prepared as best as we could.  I have been practicing going up and down stairs on my crutches loaded with a heavy backpack, getting in and out of the car.  It’s my left foot so driving should be good. Practice is good but the real thing is going to be scary at best.  My plan is to go back to work next week and bonus – I work on the second floor.  No elevators, yea!  Just lots and lots of stairs.  I will be the crutch queen by the end of the upcoming three months.

Please pray for Mitch.

April Fool

This is probably the one day of the year I hate.  This is the day that glorifies all infantile people.   I don’t like pranksters and people that can only have fun at the expense of others.  Pranksters either have never had a prank pulled on them or feel that they have to continually one up the previous “joke”.  They don’t understand how humiliating and hurtful practical jokes can and are to the recipient of the practical joke.

I love to have fun as much as the next person, but mostly I only poke fun at myself.  Mitch and the dogs get a small dose of poking, but I would never intentionally hurt someone’s feelings for my pleasure.  I know too many people that have no sense of humor and the consequences of being the butt of the joke could be quote dire to the protagonist.  Now that might be funny.

I am holding out hope that I don’t get caught in an April Fool’s joke today, but I probably will.  Thank goodness it’s only one day long.

April Fool jokesters don’t realize that the biggest Fool is them.

Coming of Age

I think I’m finally becoming comfortable in my own skin.  It took me long enough.  In my younger days I wanted to be someone else.  I wanted to be what I wasn’t.  In school, I wanted to be liked and popular.  I wasn’t.  When my children were growing up, I tried to be the perfect mother.  I failed.  I always felt that I wasn’t enough.  Not smart enough, not pretty enough, not savvy enough.  I was always chasing windmills in my mind.  Always playing catch up and never getting even let alone ahead.  I watched everyone else and wished that I could be like them and inherit the innate gifts they possessed.  I didn’t realize that I had value and talent. 

The road to self-confidence and self-love has been long and arduous with serious setbacks along the way.  Growing up and growing wiser are not mutually synonymous.  There’s proof of that in the news every day.  There are moments I wish I could go back in time just to slap myself upside the head and tell me that I had so much potential and to not waste it.  But alas, there is no going back, just the road ahead to be the person I want to be.  I found that I am less afraid of the future and what it holds.  I meet each day with excitement for each new discovery.  There is so much I want to do and see.  My biggest fear is not what the future holds but if I will get to do all the things I want to do. 

As I’ve gotten older, maybe not wiser, I’ve gotten more and less tolerant.  More tolerant of different lifestyles and political views, I don’t care who lives with whom and what you want to do behind closed doors.  (As long as it’s not hurtful to others.)  Less tolerant of stupidity and cruelty, I will never understand or accept the cruel nature of some people and the need to inflict pain whether physical or mental upon another living being.  I’m harder on criminal actions now.  I believe in the death penalty.  I believe that anyone committing a crime with a weapon deserves the death penalty.  If you have a weapon in the commission of a crime, you obviously have no regard for human life, so you should get the same consideration in kind.  (Some may think that is an oxymoron, oh well.)

I have discovered that self-doubt in small doses is not a bad thing, listen to that little voice in the back of my head, but put it in perspective.  Jumping off a cliff is stupid, but not taking a chance on a relationship or a new experience because of fear that the outcome will not meet my expectation is far worse.  Fear of failure is normal, no one wants to fail, but trying is not failing, it’s just not succeeding.  This time.  Next time may be a huge success.  Never give up.

Today is my birthday and this is my birthday wish to everyone.  Never give up.  Always reach for the stars, you never know when you’ll reach one.

There Are no Witnesses in the Dark

In the early predawn mornings when it’s still very dark, no one is awake to see what goes on during my walks with the two terrorists, aka Orso and Charlie.   Only the deer and raccoons are around to witness their antics.  I’m talking about them jerking me around, getting the leashes tangled up and charging at the nocturnal animals keeping my chiropractor in business.

It’s bad enough going on a walk in the dark and twisting an ankle stepping off the road into the ditch, which I have done on more than one occasion, causing me to wonder if I’m going to be able to walk home when I’m a mile away from the house.  No one else is around to see my gracelessness or help me if I get hurt.  It’s just the dogs and me.  I’ve even fallen over a giant boulder in the middle of the road.  I’m that graceful.  At least in the dark no one else is there to laugh at me.

Not today though.  After I got home from work this evening, I took the dogs on their afternoon walk which is when everyone is coming home from work.  The walk down to the dam was uneventful, a very pleasant stroll for the three of us.  The dogs were behaving themselves and enjoyed the romp at the dam.  On the return trip home we ran into a friend and his two dogs, which I used as a training session for Orso, working on his sudden aggression lunging at other dogs.  So far so good, Charlie was a champ and behaved perfectly and after a rough start Orso got into the moment and behaved very calmly walking back and forth in front of my friend and his dogs.  We almost looked like a Cesar Milan episode.

After the successful walk-by the dogs and I continued on our way home.  We had just rounded the second curve in the road when Charlie circled around behind me to pee on a bush causing me to try and whip the leash over my head and twist my arm around when Orso stepped back toward me.  I tripped over Orso and fell hard twisting my ankle and knee.  Right there in broad daylight for everyone to see.  As I sat there in the road feeling foolish, Orso came over to check on me and let me know he loves me even though I am the most graceless woman in the world.

There’s something to be said for walking in the dark.

Who or What is Out There?

I’m beginning to think that the simple act of walking the dogs at 4:30 in the morning is anything but solitary.  It seems every morning we run into some wandering critter.  I’m used to watching out for raccoons, opossums and deer.  On a few occasions, the dogs have heard or smelled something; I don’t know what, but something.  I never saw anything, but there have been a couple of times that the hair on the back of my neck has stood on end and my heartbeat started racing, but nothing concrete.  Just a feeling of trepidation or uneasiness.  Call it intuition, but I didn’t stick around to find out if I was just being silly.

The walk started off normally, Charlie walking back and forth, crossing behind me then getting the leash all tangled up in search of the exact right tree or bush to pee on, making me crazy.  I think he does this on purpose knowing how much I hate it and how much he hates being on the leash.  Charlie would much prefer to range loose chasing after whatever is out there.  Oh and his really favorite thing to do is to roll in something stinky and nasty, causing me to have to bathe him before I can get ready for work.  Those are the reasons the dogs now walk on a leash.  Sorry I digress.

The morning was cold with clear skies and a light breeze. The stars were twinkling and there was no moon, so it was pretty dark with shadows cast from the porch light glow of a few houses behind me.  I felt something, a presence, so I looked first at the dogs to check their behavior, but they acted as though nothing was out of place.  Then I scanned the darkness around us and listened intently for some sound that didn’t fit.  At first I didn’t see or hear anything unusual, but on a second sweep I noticed a shadowy shape up on the top of the hill.  It looked like a person just standing up on the hill not moving, just standing very still. 

I felt very naked in the predawn darkness, not knowing who or what it was.  I didn’t even know if the shape was facing toward me or away.  Was he looking at me or some other direction?  I reached back into my memory and tried to remember if the shape had always been there and I have just not noticed it before, but I couldn’t remember ever seeing it before.  I didn’t want to call out to the shape, one if it was a person and it was looking away, I didn’t want to call attention to us and two if it was looking at us, I didn’t want to antagonize it.  I stood frozen in one spot trying to get a better look at the form.  I still couldn’t get a better look and I had no intention of getting closer.  I looked down at the dogs but they were oblivious.  Maybe they hadn’t smelled him or maybe he didn’t smell.  I realized that I had been holding my breath and slowly let it out.

I decided that the smartest decision, maybe not the bravest choice, but definitely the safest option was to make ourselves scarce.  I quickly turned the dogs around and walked very briskly back the way we came.  I kept looking back over my shoulder all the way home making sure that we weren’t being followed.

I was totally unnerved by the time we made it back home, expecting any minute to have the bogeyman jump out of the underbrush and scare the bejesus out of me.  Then when nothing happened, I berated myself for being such a sissy. 

Tomorrow I’ll be paying more attention to my surroundings on the walk and check to see if the shape is still there or if it is someplace else.

Orso Finally Got It!

We went hunting in Central Nebraska this past weekend.  The original plan was to hunt pheasant but there were no pheasant, so it was decided that we would hunt quail instead.  Pheasant are not an especially hardy bird at the best of circumstances and with the severe drought have not fared well at all.  Now since it was determined that quail was the only option to hunt I decided to forgo carrying a shotgun and carry a camera instead.  I am not fast enough to shoot quail.  On the occasions we have flushed a covey of quail in past hunting trips, I was always startled at the delicate fluttering of birds and as soon as I realized that I could shoot at them, the birds were way out of gun range.  So I figured I would stand a better chance of getting some shots of the dogs and Mitch with my camera than hitting a quail with my gun.

Saturday was cold and cloudy, with temperatures in the forties with a mild breeze, making day seem pretty raw.  The dogs headed out with Charlie ranging a bit too far in front as always.  We have to call him back often otherwise he’ll flush a bird three counties away.  AJ wandered a lot slower and more methodically this year, his age showing.  Orso as usual headed off lumbering along just happy to be out with everybody bumping into the closest body to wherever he ended up in the field.  Charlie was the first to flush a bird and Mitch actually shot it.  I was shocked.  I didn’t really think that any birds would get shot the entire weekend.  Charlie fetched the bird up with Orso sniffing away at this new creature.  He has shown no interest in pheasants at all.  But this new one smelled pretty good to him. 

Orso started off and actually put head down and used his nose to search for a likely scent.  This was a bird he liked and wanted to find.  Who knew?  Orso wandered farther into the field head down, stopped for a brief moment then lunged forward catching a bird in his mouth before it could fly.  He came trotting up to Mitch with the bird in his mouth, its’ little white head poking out to the side.    He did this not once but three times.  Orso had great success at quail hunting.  He only needed us to carry the birds after he caught them.

Maybe there is hope for him yet.

Grace and Brains Too

With my usual grace, I was able to maim myself once again with yet another innocuous object.  In this case the skeleton key on my necklace was the weapon of disfigurement.  Mitch constantly asks how I am able to cut or bruise myself on something that doesn’t pose any threat to the majority of the human race.  I have a gift that’s all.  I don’t a pose a threat to anyone else, just myself. 

My injury occurred at work on Friday, while trying to be ecologically conscientious.  The company I work for recently passed out blue bins to each of us for the express purpose of paper recycling.  We are responsible for filling the bins and then carting the bins downstairs to the warehouse and dump the paper in specially marked boxes.  I normally try to empty my bin when it’s about half full, because when the bin is full of paper, it is very heavy.  Or maybe I’m just a wimp.  But in this case I haven’t had a chance to empty it in about a month so it was pretty full and heavy.

I lugged it all the way to the warehouse and when I hoisted it up to dump the paper into the box, the lip of the bin caught the skeleton key whipping it up and smacking me in the middle of my forehead cutting me.  I almost made a smart ass remark about workman’s comp when I turned around to see the HR manager waiting patiently for me to finish dumping my bin so she could dump hers that she had pushed in on a cart.  Not only am I “graceful” but evidently not very smart either.

The Weremoth

I had no idea that danger was lurking waiting for me this morning as I went through my morning routine.  I took the dogs for their early morning walk, where we dodge deer, raccoons and loose gravel (you have no idea how dangerous the lone piece of gravel is until you step on it in the dark).  Thankfully, the morning walk was without incident, for a change. 

Coming back home, the dogs got their carrots and I jumped into the shower.  After my shower, I started putting on my makeup, totally unaware of the danger just waiting for me.  I pulled out my makeup drawer reached in and grabbed my moisturizer smeared it on my face, and then went after the eye cream when I felt the ever so slight flutter against my hand.  I jerked my hand back just in time to see the rare extremely dangerous weremoth make its escape to the back of the drawer and into the dark recesses of the cabinet.   I just narrowly escaped with my life.  Not sure what a weremoth is, well they are big, huge, black, white or maybe purple, it doesn’t matter.  They strike just when your guard is down and you’re totally relaxed, like putting on your makeup.  I knew without a doubt that it would fly out of the drawer and latch onto my neck and suck out all my blood. 

Having only just started putting on my makeup I had no choice but to finish as quickly as possible keeping one eye on the mirror and what I was doing and one eye on the drawer hoping the weremoth wouldn’t sneak out and stage a blitz attack on me.  Where was Charlie when I needed him?  He always loves to eat moths.

I just hope I remember that it’s in there waiting and lurking for the perfect moment to fly out and kill us all in the middle of the night.  Maybe Mitch will find it first…