Don't Bite the Hand That Feeds You. Seriously. Don't Do It.

I learned something new over the past several days:  dog bites hurt.

How did I learn this?  My damn dog bit me!

More than once.

There are a lot of things that I accept from having a dog, including peeing in the house, digging in the yard, lots of dirt on the floor, etc.  What I don't accept is my own dog biting me, of being afraid of my dog.

Ray, that little cutie patootie, had aggression issues, specifically with me.  While he never reacted badly with Matt, on more than one occasion, I only had to move towards him to send him into attack mode.

Ray, the little shit that bit me

He would charge across the room at me, like a lion hunting a wildebeest.  And like a lion, he aimed for the knees in an attempt to bring me down.  I hate to think what would have happened had he succeeded....

I am, of course, falling back on humor to defend against the fact that my heart is broken by the way that events have played out.  Because he stayed on such high alert with me, and I stayed on such high alert with him, it became very evident that this was not the right home for him.  And since he and Reynolds were a pair, we made the choice to return them both to the shelter (which was in the contract that we signed when we adopted them, that if there were any problems, we would return them to the shelter rather than give them away).

They were ecstatic to return to the shelter, which has become their home.  One of the volunteers at the shelter has basically adopted them herself, so we know that they are well loved and taken care of.  We are very sad that things did not work out with them, but my knees and my nerves are thankful that they are not under attack every day.

I miss the little guys.

Accidental Eavesdropping Is Never Good

Matt comes home.

me:  I can't wait to tell you what I heard at work today!

Matt:  It's going to have to wait until I change my clothes and I eat.

15 minutes later....

Matt:  Okay, tell me what happened.

me:  So, I'm sitting in the canteen this morning, working on my computer between meetings, and these two guys sit down at a table near me.  And this one guy is talking really loud.  I'm not trying to eavesdrop, really. I don't wanna hear what they're talking about, but he's so loud.  He's talking about going to the doctor, and he's talking and talking.  And  I hear him say, "And then the doctor's holding my genitals."  And I'm like, "Really?"

Matt:  Is that it?  That's kind of a let down.  I was expecting more after such a build up.

me:  Yeah, well, if I could have told you immediately after you came home, it wouldn't have been such a build up.

*silence*

me:  And the guy that he was talking to didn't say a word.

Matt:  It was probably his boss.  What could he say?  He had to listen.

me:  I mean, the other guy couldn't have cared about this guy's balls?  Right?

Matt:  I don't know.  Maybe it was like a warning.  Maybe the doctor was an eye doctor and the first guy was like, "Dude, don't go see this guy because an eye exam ends up with your dick in his hands."

Excellent point.  I would warn all my girlfriends if I went to the dentist and a speculum made an appearance.  I'm only "opening wide" at one end at a time.

RAY & REYNOLDS UPDATE

Where is Matt?  I think he's in the bathroom....

Love

"Love, hell.  That damn stuff stinks." 

 Quote by my Great-Aunt Dot Miller

When we lost our dog, Nick, I didn't know if I would be able to ever (1) get over his loss or (2) welcome another dog into my life.

But as time passed, I really started to miss having a dog around.  Of course, I missed Nick specifically, but I also just missed having a little ball of love around, the noise of nails clicking on the floor, of having something that I could talk to, etc.  And as a couple of hard personal events took place earlier this year, including a big fight with depression, I really missed having a dog that I could just pet at the end of a hard day.

Matt wasn't nearly as keen as I was on getting another dog.  In fact, he really just didn't want one.

And marriage is about compromise and give and take.  I could never bring an animal into a house where Matt wasn't full on board.  A dog totally changes your lifestyle.  It would have been wrong to ask him to change his life because I wanted a dog.

But Matt loves me and saw how often I would look at dog adoption sites.  And talk about dogs.  And draw dogs.  So, last week, Matt started looking at dogs for adoption and found the little cuties that we just adopted.

He not only found them, he encouraged me to meet Ray.  He told me that two dogs would be ok when we found out that Ray and Reynolds were dumped together and were best friends.  He kept reassuring me that he would welcome them with open arms.

As we now have dogs in our house for the first time in over a year, we also are dealing with potty accidents in the house and the smell of dog.  And we clean up pee with vinegar and water and look at each other and talk about what sweethearts these two little monsters are.

Yes, love, that damn stuff, does stink.  Right now, it smells like dog and vinegar and water.  And that's the smell of a husband who understood exactly how important a four-legged little fur-ball was to me.

Dog Tales

Hey!  My name is Ray.

This is my friend, Reynolds.

Some assholes kicked us out of their truck in front of the Humane Society of Catawba County.  On the asshole scale, I guess they ranked somewhere below 10 because the Humane Society is a no-kill shelter, but still, they were assholes.  Reynolds and I are 8 years old, that's 56 of your human years, so we were these losers' elders.  They treated us with no respect.

Anyway, the people at the Humane Society were righteous.  They took us in, cleaned us up, fed us, had the doc look over our old bones and put our pics out there on the internets for people to see.  No one came by for a long time.  I think it's because they said that I had these things called "cat-racts" which means I can't see.  I think that what they call it is must be wrong, because I'm a DOG, people, not a stupid cat.

That's where our personal heroes come into the story.  Matt Elder (whose last name means that he understands how to respect us senior dogs) is a solid guy.  He saw my picture and showed it to his woman.  Said he thought I would be a good guy to have around the house (me and that dude get each other).

She finally caved.  Called the Humane Society and found out that I don't go anywhere without my main guy, Reynolds.  Matt continued to show how he's the kinda guy you want to be around -- told Cristy that two dogs around the house would be just fine.  She and Matt visited us at our home at the shelter and realized just how cool R-man and I are.  And just like that, we're now at home with M & C.

So, here's the current sitch--C took us to get groomed and our new looks are fine.  My guess is that if we had had such awesome looking hair cuts while at the shelter, we would have been out of there a lot sooner.  (Women love a well-groomed man.)  Lucky for C & M, we were still around so that we could help them not be so lonely.

It's a good thing we came along.  C & M needed us.

"My Dog" Movie Review

I just finished watching and crying over the sweetest documentary on Netflix.  The name of the documentary was My Dog: An Unconditional Love Story and was about just that -- the love between a dog and its human.  (I hate to call us "owners" as we don't really own a dog -- we just get to love them and live in their space for a while.)

The documentary makers interviewed a lot of different celebrities about their dogs and asked them the question:  "Why do people love their dogs?"  And the stories proceeded from there.




I was so struck by how similar my thoughts and feelings about dogs were to these celebrities, people who live lives that are 180 degrees removed from the life that I live.  Yet, dogs seem to be one of the great equalizers, across geography, ethnicity, social strata and economic demographic.  Dogs are wonderful because they don't care who their human is, what their human has succeeded or failed at that day, how much money their human makes, etc.  Dogs just want to be with us.  They are unconditional love in action.

Nick, the winter before he passed

I lost my soul mate dog, Nick, last year to prostate cancer.  I miss him everyday.  I miss saying good-bye to him every morning as he would follow me to the front door to watch me leave.  I miss seeing him run to say "hello" to me each day as I would come home.  I miss his presence.

In the documentary, Greg Louganis talks about how some of his HIV treatments made him really sick.  Some days, the only reason that he got out of bed was to take care of his dog.  I can totally relate.  I went through a really bad depression not long after I adopted Nick from a rescue shelter.  There were days where I spent the majority of the day in bed, and if it weren't for Nick, the necessity to feed him, to let him out, to take care of him, I wouldn't have gotten out of bed at all.  And Nick seemed to know when he needed to put his head in my lap, and nudge me, as if to say, "Wanna talk?"  And I did.  I have told several people that Nick saved my life and I wasn't exaggerating.

In the documentary, the crushing statistic is given that 6 to 8 million dogs are in shelters around the US (the movie was released in 2010, so it's still fairly up-to-date), and nearly 50% of those dogs will be euthanized.  That was when I started to cry.

Let's all go adopt a dog!  I don't mean that we all collectively adopt one dog and share it, that wouldn't really help, but each household go out and adopt one dog each.  And then spay or neuter it.  And then experience the uncomplicated love that comes from a dog.

I have to get Matt to agree to this plan for our house, but he doesn't care about your house, so I'm really looking forward to hearing about all your new dogs!  Send me pictures.

Doodle Dee, Doodle Dum

I go to a lot of meetings at work.  Some days, it feels like I do nothing but sit in different meeting rooms around the building.  On good days, the topics are different.  On difficult days, the topics sound eerily similar, and an 8-hour day can seem like that movie Groundhog Day -- a day that lasts forever.  Or actually, I guess, it would be a day that plays itself out over and over and over again.  Whatever, let's just say that those days blow.

The ability to amuse myself during l-o-o-o-n-g meetings is one of the only ways that I am able to keep my sanity and my patience.  When the topic is something that doesn't concern me, I have to find a way to recharge my batteries while sitting still.  Recently, my iPad has helped me refresh and renew my mind with my Noteshelf app that lets me doodle (while appearing to be taking notes).  I am NO artist, but I wanted to share my recent artistic endeavors.

Do you notice a theme?  I want a dog in theory (not so much in reality), so I spend a lot of time thinking about getting a dog.  Right now, I apparently spend a lot of time drawing dogs, too.  The dog above has a really big tongue ("the better to lick you with, my dear...")

The next one is my favorite:  I drew it during one meeting while we were talking about a topic that had been discussed ad nauseam.  i.e. we were beating a dead horse.  You are welcome to print out my dead horse for use in your own meetings.  (I've been asked what the red blotch is in the middle of the horse -- it's his intestines to indicate that he's dead -- I was a little afraid that the word "DEAD" wasn't enough.)

Next time you see me on my iPad, you can ask yourself "Is she taking notes or is she creating another Doodle Masterpiece?"  Only time will tell...