A Smile after a Rant and Rave Session

I got this message on Facebook today:

Cass Malloy posted on your Wall.
"Hi Ms Friedman,
Diana Wynne Jones passed away this morning. I wanted to say thank you for sharing her writing with us. DWJ was a huge part of my growing up and I'm going to miss her terribly."

This might have contributed to some of my tears and fears today, but it's also a wonderful memory of sharing books with children.

Golden- Smolden!

The golden years are a myth perpetuated by advertising and do-gooders.  The truth is I'm facing my mortality and it ain't great!

I've probably always been a pessimist, a kind of half-empty (or in this case 4/5 empty) kind of gal.  I seem to be in a perpetual state of mourning right now.  I see old people around and realize I'm one of them.  I'm realizing that getting up slowly from the floor is a need rather than a choice, that waking up with aches and pains is not a matter of a new mattress, that I'm probably not going to do that yoga pose again.

This has been going on awhile, but came to a head when I've been struggling with learning to handle Canon in agility.  At first my goofiness and inaccuracy could be attributed to being new at it.  Now I see the people I've been learning with growing and leaving me in the dust.  I am learning, but more slowly.  I have trouble thinking on my feet and remembering what kind of cross I'm going to make where, to call out an obstacle to my dog ahead of time.

This sucks!  I use that word rarely, but it seems to encapsulate my frustration.  I look at my bookshelves and see books I may not get around to reading in my lifetime.  I have dollars in the bank I may not spend.  There many be no more dogs in my future.

When am I going to get that kick that tells me to just do it, and get on with my life?

Another "Aren't My Dogs Wonderful?' Post

Today:  Caprice's birthday.  Wendy's Diamong and Nutmeg are still here, so I put up the tunnel, weave poles and a jump for the dogs.  They weren't interested in the weave poles and jump, but they all took their turns in the tunnel, Nutmeg, after some private lessons.

2 Year "Anniversary"

More tears today-- for a different reason.  Just thinking about this day has been bringing me to tears.   It’s a day to renew the beautiful memories of my boy Rondo.   One of my favorite things, although there are so many,  was when he came up to me a chewed on my hair a little bit, nuzzling my neck.  He followed me everywhere-- including to the bathroom.

  I remember our terrible fight against osteosarcoma.  Those are not the good memories.  But there were always smiles, as he retained his wonderful good nature.

We'll be celebrating Caprice's  fifth birthday in three days.   I love Caprice and Canon dearly, but will always have Rondo in my heart with the others I love and have loved.  My experience with him has changed me.  I’m more compassionate, have made some wonderful friends at BCD, and best of all, I remember that every day with my dogs and loved ones is a special one. 

Thank you, Rondo.

Tears

Yes, I shed a few more tears for our retiring veterinarian today.

This evening, however, I watched a 60 Minutes segment on homeless kids- kids living in cars, motels, with neighbors.  I watched them explain what it feels like to be hungry, how they use the Walmart bathroom to clean up before going to school.  A girl smiles as she tells how it embarrasses her when her father has to beg at the side of the road to help pay for their cheap motel room.

This is American, goddanmit!  Kids shouldn't have to go through being locked out of their own homes, their belongings being auctioned off.  (Not that their parents should have to go through this either.)

Got a good deal on a foreclosure house?  Just think about who used to live there and what happened to them.  These times suck.  This is something to cry about!

My vet is retiring.  My dogs will have someone new caring for them.  I can pay their bills.  I really ought to shed my tears for something else! 

Goodbye Dr. Larry

I had a feeling what was in the envelope.  A sense of dread overcame me as I saw it was a letter.  Sure enough, tears silled my eyes.  No deaths, or terrible things-- my dog's veterinarian is retiring. 

Silly me, I'm crying as I write this, and hate myself for overreacting.  It seems like I'm losing a member of my family, someone who's been with me for ups and downs.  Larry has greeted four poodle puppies for me.  I won't forget how he laughed at Rondo's long ears and called him a hound dawg. Two spays, two neuters, an intestinal resectioning, old age, Addison's disease, cancer and numerous worries from me.  He's been to my home to put my Persi to sleep forever.  He's cried with me as he put Rondo out of his pain.  There was a long series of shot-giving lessons as I got up the courage to give Caprice her monthy Percorten shots.  The phone calls checking up on and discussing my dogs.  He listened to concerns about shots, diet, doses of prednisone.

I've never been upset when I've had to change doctors.  It's happened and I've moved on.  But now we're losing someone I trusted with my dear dogs' lives, a friend, someone who cared.

Yes, this is probably what he wants and needs.  A year ago he suffered a heart attack.  I missed him dearly during the time he was gone.  I wish him well, but I wish him here, where he's done so much for us.