Finally breathing


Holy cow, folks! For anyone who even bothered coming back and forth to check-in and see all of the nothing I’ve written, I thank you.

Things have been crazy the past few months. There has been anger and frustration (yes, it’s really taken this long) and a lot of trying to catch my breath going on.

For starters…last July I parted ways with my very real, very serious, very “scientific” job as a Senior Product Development Scientist. The reason? I wasn’t happy. Which seemed reason enough for me.

My plan going forward is a work in progress. In July the plan was: (1) become a nanny to my best friend’s son; (2) apply to (and get in) graduate school for Animal Behavior. This is where things got stalled for me. My best friend, through no fault of her own, didn’t require a nanny until recently and the GRE gods were laughing at me (and my graduate school applications) so I have to retest and reapply…and possibly retest and reapply and so on and so forth (but DAMNIT! I’m getting in!).

In the meantime, I have been coaching again at the local rock climbing gym. I was also offered the opportunity to get more experience handling dogs with the Analaigh’s behaviorist by volunteering with his foundation obedience classes. I have been doing this for about 7 months and last week he asked if I would be interested in running (under his guidance, of course) an obedience class designed to build onto the foundation class in preparation for the intermediate agility classes offered to more mature dogs.

Last month I started a second part-time job for some extra cash because…well, I like eating and driving and I hate having to choose between the two (I kid, I kid…I don’t make a habit of making bad financial decisions – – – well, not since that one guy a million years ago but stop judging me for that already!).

Last week, I (finally) started as Aidan’s full-time nanny about which, I will share more later through his (mom’s) blog.

PHEW!!

This evening after Aidan’s dad picked him up as I took my girls out to run, play, and train while a light sprinkling of snow fell around me I took a deep breath and knew that I am exactly where I want to be right now.

...now about studyin' for those GREs....again....

…now about studyin’ for those GREs….again….

Merry (early) Christmas, my lovelies!!


I hate how expensive a good dog bed is.

Even more than that, I hate how boring they are.

It’s an easy $20 spent for a plainly colored square shaped bed and costs extra for a personal touch.

NO WAY! I say.

So I decided this year for Christmas I was going to see if I couldn’t make my own for my girls and guess what? I could.

I went to the fabric store and picked out fabrics that I thought best represented the personalities of my baby girls which were luckily on sale for 50% off (Woot!)

Using their crate bottom as a pattern I cut out my sizes and hand stitched ’em together.

Then conserving more money, I used some of the old towels and blankets (freshly washed) they’ve used as well as stuffing from their old beds I fluffed ’em up and stitched the final bits (which I hope explains why they got their beds waaaay early!! LOL!)

So soft they are, mama.

Voila. Dog beds for $6.50.

If you’re interested in size, Analaigh’s bed fits into a large crate and she weighs 70 pounds while Rose’s bed fits into her medium crate and she weighs 50 pounds.

Analaigh: Pretty FlowersRose: Silly Owls

Analaigh: Pretty Flowers
Rose: Silly Owls

A dream I had


I came upon him or rather, he came upon me, quite by accident. In that way that is mine I dropped my gaze to observe my shoes: pretty, silver sandals.

He is so confident, at ease in his skin. I am so jealous. I have never felt that way.

He is so beautiful with his ease. I close my eyes and breathe in his scent.

I linger with my eyes closed and see a pretty vision of arms and legs tangled in sheets and hear whispered voices in the darkness before dawn.

That’s me, though, losing myself in a moment.

It’s just a dream. He is just a dream. Someone so beautiful would not come to me outside a dream, it would be too cruel.

Outside a dream I would never see beauty.

Outside a dream I would only see fear and I would have never looked up from my pretty, silver sandals.

 

…something I found tucked in the pages of an old diary, who knows how long it’s been there…well, actually, I do. I remember this man.

Are you those people?


Are you, mama?

Are you one of those people?

It is my second least favorite question directed at the girls. The first is “are they pitbulls?” You just don’t know whether or not to be fearful until you know for sure. But, I digress.

So, am I one of those people?

If by that you mean someone who knows that if it is cold enough for me to wear a jacket then it is cold enough for them to wear a jacket. Then, yes. Sigh. I am one of those people: responsible.

Green is my color!

Crazy, right? Just as crazy as when mom makes sure Mr. Baby’s summer wardrobe has been traded in for long sleeves, pants, and socks because it’s gotten cool outside. So very crazy.

Some dogs don’t need as much protection from the elements because they have big, warm, natural coats of fur. Many dogs, like mine, are not so lucky. Analaigh only has a single coat of fur and and you can still see Rose’s freckled skin through both of her coats. It’s easier for folks to accept when they see a tiny dog dressed to the nines. It’s just more acceptable somehow…but show someone a picture of my girls in their fleece jackets and I get eye rolls and exaggerated sighs.

I dare you to look into this face and say, “No, Rose, you are too big and strong to be dressed appropriately for the weather” then wait because she’s a drama queen and will shiver uncontrollably to make her point.

Now…am I one of those people who dresses up my dogs in ridiculous outfits and stuffs them into my purse? Well, there was that time at Summersville Lake at the New River Gorge when I had to shove both girls (separately) into my pack so I could carry them down the ladder to get to the crag for climbing…and anything else that may have happened around Halloween last year the girls have would have destroyed any evidence (had there been any which there most certainly was not).

If you are curious, our favorite brand is Ruffwear. I like their fit the best and they have multiple options depending on your clime and what groovy things you do year-round with your pooch. Pictured above is the Climate Changer Fleece which I love, love, love.

So how IS Rose’s recovery going?


I get asked this question a lot.

It’s going good…

…and bad…

Let me explain.

When I brought her home she looked like this…

Pitiful, right? I thought so too.

It started out by just carting her around to the bathroom or to lounge in the sun because she gave me sad eyes.

Then she started pushing limits like climbing onto the couch, ever so slowly, ever so pitifully, without permission but with the saddest puppy dog eyes asking, “Are you going to kick me off, mama?” Of course not, darling.

She started climbing into bed, ever so slowly, ever so pitifully, without permission resting her head on my shoulder sighing, “Is this okay, mama?”. I guess it’s okay, baby, since you couldn’t go walking today with Analaigh and me.

She started nudging my hand while I was forcibly holding her still for a 10 minute icing session saying, “The least you can do is pet me, mama.” Of course, Rosiebear.

But then, the good news, she started putting weight back on that leg. She started walking herself up and down the stairs…whenever the hell she wanted instead of waiting for me.

Then she started jumping up on the bed any old time she felt like it instead of when she had permission.

She started jumping on the couch any old time she felt like it instead of when she was invited.

And after she got kicked off the bed she’d go out and jump on the couch hoping I wouldn’t notice. The little sneak.

She stopped making eye contact with me.

She stopped deferring to me.

She stopped listening to me.

She turned into a BRAT!

So – she’s getting better. (YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!!) Each day she’s allowed a little bit of exercise time and she’s on a strict diet of deferral.

Next time (dear god, I hope there isn’t a next time), I will endeavor to remember that emoting is a human past-time.