Thursday, November 1, 2012

Com·pat·i·bil·ity? What's That?




1. capable of existing or living together in harmony.

Hmmm. Ok, duh. What I really want to know is how do you know if you are really compatible with someone? I mean, you meet; there's attraction + chemestry, you laugh & have fun, you can't wait to see her again, she thinks your kid "fucking rocks", you break beds in the bedroom... then all of a sudden, you know, you're packing the U-Haul and planning a wedding.

You being me. [Of course]

But that doesn't mean you are compatible. Or that you're right for each other and should settle down. Or that you should even continue to casually date.

Don't get me wrong, I have never bought into the whole "ooooh, we were meant to be together" dogma, so what gives? I make it 42 years and suffer two failed marriages

[neither of which were my fault of course]

[Tongue entirely in cheek - for one out of two anyway]

before realizing compatibility is more than just "getting along"? Apparently a lot more. So I never asked myself. I never wondered what my ideal mate would 'look' like. I never questioned if it was personality, or lifestyle, or belief system that would hold you together long-term. One thing I did know,

I do know,

[and I don't know, I may have learned this, or the opposite of this (?) from a Beattle's song]

love is never enough.

But, and you're going to love this, it wasn't even the demise of my marriage to D1 that got me thinking about compatibility or what it really takes to make a relationship work long-term. All I knew after that disappointment was that I didn't want another serious romantic relationship. No way. No how.

At least not for a long time,

aka after Bird graduated from high school, + 100 years

and even then I will have played the field and dated several people before settling on The One.

There I go again."The One." * Scoff * Another bullshit fairy tale used to sell greeting cards if you ask me,

which of course you didn't since I'm talking to myself and don't suffer from multiple-personality disorder, at least that I know of

but okay, 'the one' in lower case as in 'the one' who makes me want to spend all of my time with her and no one else. Without need of a U-Hual or feeling personally impacted by Ref 74 passing.

So enough of this "Leo's are Loyal" and ofcourseIdon'thaveaproblemwithcommittment nonesense. You don't have to be a one woman, uh woman, until you meet the woman who you think you are compatible with.

[There's that word again]

But I digress. Really.

What made me take stock in all of this heavy-duty


business was a short story by Nicola Griffith called It Takes Two that I read a couple of days ago. This passage, in particular, spoke volumes to me, work of fiction, or not (which it is):

"There are hundreds of studies that show how powerful sex bonding can be, especially for women. If a woman has an orgasm in the presence of another person, her hormonal output for the next few days is sensitized to her lover: every time they walk in the room, her system floods with chemical messengers like oxytocin saying Friend! Friend! This is even with people you know, consciously, aren't good for you. You put that together with someone compatible, who fits-whether they really fit or just seem to fit- and it's a chemical bond with the potential to be human superglue" (Griffith, p. 31-32).

HELLO! DingDingDingDingDing!

But what does it all mean?

New paradigm needed, obviously.

But more than that. You'll never really know if you're compatible or not, until you have invested the time to find out, until you have lived as if She was The One.

And if it turns out that she isn't? Well, it certainly doesn't mean you failed. It means you just weren't compatible.

I like it. Because it means you I tried.
 (sorry, APA formatting habits die hard):

Giffith, N. (n.d.). Retrieved from

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Nothing a Little Rice with Milk & Sugar Won't Fix...

...While watching the Avengers. Or Thor. Maybe both.

Or will it?


Pity Party for one begins now.

My life sucks.

Riley is still gone. And he is still isn't coming back. And not a day goes by when I don't think of him or hurt from missing him or wonder how he has only been gone for five months when it feels like forever. Not a day goes by when I don't wonder if he is still with me or hope he hasn't forgotten me or forgotten that he will always be my forever best friend.

I still haven't filed my dissolution paperwork. Because I don't know who I am. Or who I should be. Keep Stewart? Go back to Trosper? There's always the Maiden. Maybe make up something new? Why pay for the dissolution and a name change when I can do it all at once? Right.

Speaking of my estranged wife. She still lives with another instant family, and in fact is moving with them from the state she left here for in order to be with all her blood family. So much for real family when the new woman (who supposedly makes LESS money then she does working at Lowes) gets offered a job in Tenneefuckingsee. So that's where they're moving to. Can you imagine that? For a job that is beneath LOWES? And oh yeah, they just got back from DISNEYLAND. Yet she can't help me with the cost of the dissolution or take he whom we both promised to take despite her two income household to my one.

Because I still have no goddamn money thanks to the price I pay to feed my family and a house that is too big for me and too much for me and is impossible to heat. Honestly, this economy is killing me, there is no other explanation: I make too much to be suffering this much, especially since I don't have a single credit card and I haven't even started paying for my brilliant education yet.

Then there's my house. My real house. Le Monde. The World that is still in foreclosure because you never really knew the person you gave your heart and soul to for seven years. Because she, being the complete and total fucknut that she pretended not to be but always will be, continues to screw you in every way imaginable.

And because there are still people I feel I can't let in (or feel I have to end up kicking out). Because they only end up hurting me. Disappointing me. Forsaking me. Going completely dickass on me. Giving themselves the right to tell me what I'm doing wrong, how I should do it differently - because only they have the answers, because they feel turning the mirror to my face will point out every bit of crazy I don't see with my own eyes. Because I clearly don't know what's wrong when it's wrong. Because I obviously don't have the fuckwithall to even ask for their opinion, advise, or help. God save us.

Did I mention I want my dog back? My best dog? In fact I need my dog. To lick my face and love me and let me hug him until the tears dry. Because only he will do.

Then there's Safeway. Albertsons. Fred Meyer. Where there isn't so much as a trace of any of my favorite fruit. And I miss it. I want it. I need my fruit. Dammitall whatamIsupposetodo?

Ah. But one thing has changed. Bird's dad is out of my basement and living in transitional veterans housing. Hallalejuah.

Fuck. And yeah. Brilliant.

Mother Earth carries on.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Ashes, One Month Old

Dear Pack Mom,

One month ago, after gallantly fighting megaesophogus for over three months, I started sneezing. There was green coming out of my nose. I knew you would be scared, but I also knew you would do what needed to be done to take care of me.

It only got worse when I couldn't catch my breath as we sped to the Emergency Hospital. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. The pain and fear coming from your entire being made me want to comfort you. I'm sorry I couldn't.

Thankfully, the people that gave me oxygen and took care of me in my final hours were nice, and caring, and very gentle with me. I know it was difficult for them to give you such a grim prognosis, and for you to hear it. You made the right choice. For me.

When they brought me to you to say goodbye, and you and Bird were crying, I hope my final kisses upon your face helped the tears dry up. Having Uncle Scott and Mother Hen there convinced me that you and Bird would make it home okay, and I was comforted by their presence.

In that moment, I felt at peace.
In that moment, I was ready to go.
In that moment, I loved you and my pack more then ever.

In that moment, we said goodbye, and I have been waiting for you ever since. But here I am no longer hungry. I'm no longer thirsty. I'm no longer trying to satiate an insatiable need. And you no longer have to clean up, or sit up, or bare the constant frustration this disease brought to our Pack.

Win-Win Mom, Win-Win. 

It is sad that my time in the Pack was cut short, but what a time it was. I love you mom, now and always. Even though I know you will never stop missing me, just remember, I will always be your dog and we will be together again.


Wednesday, June 6, 2012

i ' m H U R T i n g

Nobody said it was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh take me back to the start
                 - Coldplay "The Scientist"

I was doing okay. You know. Talking to him on occasion, as I held my hand over his remains, looking at his paw print. It's only been two weeks...

And then I had to get in the freezer for an ice pack for my lunch. There was a bag of ice chips I'd crushed and kept on hand because he couldn't drink water... My poor boy, he couldn't even drink water.

The ice set me back. And now all I can do is cry.

*Head in Hands*

Friday, June 1, 2012

Hey Bud,

Dr. McNeal and Dr. Hoffman and all the girls at the place you got all too familiar with over the past five months sent a condolence card to me, which arrived today. The entire staff at the hospital where we said goodbye did too, and it also arrived today. I hurt in my heart reading them, and I missed you in that moment more then I have allowed myself to miss you thus far. I knew I needed to cry really bad, but I wouldn't let myself, or I just couldn't, and that made the pain deeper.

Your friend MK called me, and only then was I ready, only then could I let it out. I cried into my hands, with her just there, listening. She and I aren't going to be as close as we were, at least not in the same way, but she was there for me in the only way she could be, because I needed her. Which is what happened when you went to sleep for the last time. It's in these times that I need her the most, but her living in flux on the Peninsula just doesn't make it possible, forcing us to realize we really can't be together in the way we want to be. She was great with you though, wasn't she Poppy? Remember that contraption she made for you out of an old lady's walker? Poor boy, your hip displasia sure made eating and remaining vertical for 20-40 minutes our biggest obstacle as we fought this disease, but she tried, didn't she? And I loved her for it.

*Sigh* Did you know I touch your urn every day, several times a day? Not when I pass it by, but on purpose, for no reason, I'll just find myself there with my hand over your name. Sometimes I run my finger along the imprint of your paw, and I wonder where you are, really. I wonder why you had to get this illness, why you had to get sick, why you had to die, why you had to leave me. It's not fair I want to scream, and would if I could. I hope you know I did everything I could for you. And I never wanted to let you go Pal. Not ever.

*Head in hands* I'm meeting with JK again. She's helping me deal with the grief and, well the other stuff I have to work on. During our session this week, a little birdie flew up to the open window ledge, and sat listening as I spoke. When she pointed him out, I looked up. As she started to say how she has been in that office for seven years and always opens the window in the summer and has never had a birdie come there and perch like that, how curious it was that he sat there listening, turning his head this way and that as I talked.... Well it was right then that I had a feeling that little birdie was you.

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Don't Cry For Me Argentina

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to report that the budding romance between The Pack Mom and MK is no longer. Deal breakers = Distance. Time. Attention. Needs.

What started magically a couple of months ago showed so much promise, such potential, but these are not the only two people on the planet capable of producing chemistry, and now, without a doubt, our heroine knows she is ready to See and Be Seen. And she still doesn't need to settle or jump into anything serious on the 2nd or even 3rd date ;)

Moreover, our fearless leader is convinced that MK came into her life when she did because Ex-h needed a champion in a bad way. More then what this couple taught each other and learned about themselves during the course of their eye opening affair, getting Ex-h on his feet and in a direction leading out of the Pack's basement was a gift greater then any the Pack could have dreamed into existence.

So. What's next for our heroine? Stay tuned....

Friday, May 25, 2012

Dear Riley,

The emergency hospital called with news today. Your *remains* were ready to be picked up.

Oh God Oh God Oh God

I knew this day would be hard. The final nail in the coffin so to speak.

This was it Buddy. You were never coming home to me. Ever. Again.

My best boy, now reduced to ashes in a box. Or in something. I haven't had the heart or nerve to look inside the nice white paper bag they handed me as I signed on the dotted line. "Best to wait for Bird & Mother Hen" I reasoned with myself "so we can pay proper tribute to you being reunited with us in a different form."

Damn you ME and your partner in crime AP. We will never forgive you. Ever.

Why man, why did this have to happen to you? To us? Damn.

It's not your fault Pal, it's not anyone's fault, but I am still so sorry. You were such a good boy, the best, and you can be proud of the dog's work you did here on Earth.

*Head in Hands*

I sure do miss you Ri.

You, as we knew you, will never be back. But we have more then just happy memories now, now we have a physcial symbol that represents your beautiful doggy form to go with the feeling of your presence that has followed us, your Pack, your family, since you were taken away so abrupty.

That is where you will remain. Always. *Right here* holding my hand over my heart.

I'll never forget you Riley.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Four Days Later ...

And the Earth is still spinning, I've managed to continue functioning, I sense him with me but more then ever I miss his physical presence. The faces he made, the attention he demanded when I was focused on another Pack member, the way he "spoke" to me in a way uniquely his, the way he caught flies midair, the way he would cut M.W. off from bringing me a ball so that *he* could bring it to me, the way he guarded me and his other people and "protected" Bird from her BF, even the way he tortured the cats, and wanted to assist in the kitchen.

He was a great dog, a wonderful companion, and the best friend I have ever had. It's sad, but when D1 and I were in marriage counseling, I once told our therapist during an individual session that I didn't need my wife, as long as I had my dog.

And now I have neither.

Still, I take comfort in talking about him, even though I am careful to do it in the past tense, I enjoy writing messages to him by way of The Universe with the understanding that he cannot answer, and I cherish the years we had together even though it was not nearly as long as it should have been.

Ooooo oooooo ohoohohoo
Ooooo ohooohoo oooohoo
Ooooo ohoohooo oohoooo
Oohooo oohoooho ooooho
Ooooo oooooo oooooo
Ooooo oooooo oooooo

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
And the dreams that you dreamed of
Once in a lullaby ii ii iii
Somewhere over the rainbow
Blue birds fly
And the dreams that you dreamed of
Dreams really do come true ooh ooooh
Someday I'll wish upon a star
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me ee ee eeh
Where trouble melts like lemon drops
High above the chimney tops thats where you'll find me oh
Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly
And the dream that you dare to, why, oh why can't I? i iiii

Well I see trees of green and
Red roses too,
I'll watch them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world

Well I see skies of blue and I see clouds of white
And the brightness of day
I like the dark and I think to myself
What a wonderful world

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people passing by
I see friends shaking hands
Saying, "How do you do?"
They're really saying, I...I love you
I hear babies cry and I watch them grow,
They'll learn much more
Than we'll know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world (w)oohoorld

Someday I'll wish upon a star,
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where trouble melts like lemon drops
High above the chimney top that's where you'll find me
Oh, Somewhere over the rainbow way up high
And the dream that you dare to, why, oh why can't I? I hiii ?

Ooooo oooooo oooooo
Ooooo oooooo oooooo
Ooooo oooooo oooooo
Ooooo oooooo oooooo
Ooooo oooooo oooooo
Ooooo oooooo oooooo  

Monday, May 21, 2012

The End That Finally Came

My Pack is in mourning. My best friend, my shadow, my sweet Riley Love has fallen into forever sleep.

Five months of episode after episode of regurging, another 4 lb loss in a week for a total of nearly 30 lbs, then finally green mucous appearing suddenly in his nostrils coupled with trouble breathing, and The Awful Decision I didn't know how I would make, was made for me.

It was Aspirated Pneumonia, the emergency room veterinarian confirmed. The prognosis, she said gently, was not promising. $2k for treatment during the first 24 hrs, with him being released at that time highly unlikely. "We would only be treating this episode of AP. There is no guarantee that it won't return in a month, or next week. The megaesophogus of course complicates his treatment and his hope of recovery."

This was it. Oh God Oh God Oh God. I summoned my kids while the ER staff prepared him for our goodbye.

Having received oxygen immediately upon our arrival, in addition to the stress of his separation from me, the insertion of the catheter, and the sickness that was attacking from his lungs, and my boy came to us confused, distressed, and clearly afraid.

I called him to me and he came, relieved to be reunited with his Pack Leader. Panting and breathing heavily, he looked from face to face, comforted by the presence of his Pack - perhaps realizing his fight was now going to end. Finally.

My baby. My buddy. My first dog since childhood. The puppy who saved me from heartache four years ago, the beautiful, innocent, sweet companion who never left my side was now needing me to save him - despite the heartache it would bring back to me.

Stroking him, holding him, praying for peace at last, I told him he didn't have to suffer now, that he wasn't going to be sick any more or ever again, that he could once again enjoy peanut butter kongs, meaty flavorful bones, and all the food and water he needed to fill his belly. Knowing it would never equal the heart full of unconditional love he never ceased to show me.

He licked the tears from my face, from Bird's face, and looked again at each of us as Bird rocked him in her arms, crying. Looking into the rich brown eyes already draining of life, I said good night to my boy.

There, in Bird's arms, he fell.

Oh Riley. You will be forever in my heart, your place in our Pack will always be honored, and you will never cease being my best friend.

I love you Pal.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Philanthropist is Not in the Job Description

It's four o'clock in the morning and I have been awake for two hours. For once it's not Riley's fault; no, this time it is me who is hungry. Laying there, I found I was asking myself one question, repeatedly.

"What are you doing?"

I'm certainly not applying for martyrdom. I am no philanthropist. So why am I suffering? Why am I stressed out, depressed, and hungry? Oh I know why, but still it seems appropriate to ask myself.

"What are you doing?"

Your guess is as good as mine. You see, I have not been married to Bird's dad since she was four years old. That's when I realized, hey, you're not a heterosexual. Duh. So why, 13 years later, has he been living in my basement for five months? Seemingly without a care in the world. Streaming his stupid programs on Netflix day after day, sleeping, eating, using resources I should not have to provide. In essence I am a single mother. One who has not only not received child support since said ex-h quit his secure civil servant job, what two years ago? But one who is stupid enough to go ahead and foot the bill for his daily existence.

Seriously. I have to be done with this. Of the several things I cannot control this is not one of them.

Monday, May 7, 2012

On The Plus Side, We're Reducing Our Carbon Footprint

I miss the dog parks. There are a handful close by that we would always alternate between, sometimes hitting two different ones a day. Unfortunately MegaE has changed our exercise routine, seeing as any dog being walked that we pass in the car, results in Riley barking. Barking = Automatic Regurge. No questions asked.

So now I walk them on the leash. Around the neighborhood. It's quiet, and certainly convenient but also getting rather dull. Needless to say, we will have to start venturing further, sans Miss. With my hand burned, it has been challenging enough, but at least we went in a predictable circle and if she spotted a squirrel, I simply let go of her leash. Regardless, we were never far from home.

I did get a mesh muzzle for Riley, figuring on using it in the car to keep him from barking, as well as when he roamed the backyard unaccompanied - to keep him from eating anything. But my fear has been that he will bark anyway, then choke on the regurge.

Meanwhile, I am going to start graphing his episodes, to see if I can determine some sort of pattern. As I tell my GF often, he has good days and bad days. Sure, I am journaling everything but seeing it on a graph may better assist me in my endless endeavour to figure this bloody disease out.

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Time, Revisited

Time exists only as a means to measure the space between preparing his food, spending 20 minutes feeding him 5-6 times per day, and cleaning up episodes of regurgitation.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Time, or Something Like It

Time. It seems to pass so quickly, doesn't it?

Or does it?

When I think about how fast April went for example, it seems really, really fast.

When I think about how my idyllic life @ Le Monde died just four years ago, it seems really, really slow.


Things You Should Never Say

When my brother and I were little, and my dad was out to sea, the day-to-day would inevitably become too much for her to bear. Given that I have little memories of him not at sea,

(except of course that she was often this way when he was home, and I've forgotten that he spent all his home time hiding in the garage with a 12 pack of beer)

life was always in an apparent state of unbearableness.

And unfortunately for my brother and me, you were never quite sure what might set her off.

Maybe we ran out of milk. Maybe we hadn't done our chores. Maybe, as soon as she came in the door, we wanted to know what was for dinner.

Innocent, kids being kids. In other words, it was nothing.

Every day, there was ranting and raving to be had. Sometimes she said the most horrible, hurtful, mean-spirited things. Things you should never say to another human being much less your own babies. Sometimes she did more then cause emotional pain. And then, she would say, she just wanted to run away.

I have come to realize only now that she didn't want to run away from us.
She wanted to run away from herself.

At least that is what I have decided to tell myself.

The Tricks We Play On Ourselves

It's funny. Things don't work out and everyone moves on. If you're me, and maybe this is everyone, I don't know, you have it in your mind that your ex becomes perfect in her new life. That none of the problems she had in your life exist anymore, her new partner can do no wrong, and her new family is perfect in every way.

Even when you know its bullshit, somehow, you have yourself convinced. So, if your me, you then wonder, "what's wrong with me? Why couldn't she be that way for me?"

But she's not that way. Not now. Not with anyone. She still has the same issues, the same problems, the same idiosyncrasies, the same drama, the same insane compulsions, the same ... everything. And all new ones based on new dynamics, new exchanges, new differences.

But still, you wonder.

Pushing on This, Pulling on That

Something has to give.

It has been five months since I felt I had no choice but to take my daughter's dad in, and I am happy I had a basement to put him. But he has absolutely no source of income and $200 in food stamps a month just does not cut it when he is here using electricity all day and can eat more then my growing teenagers. Scrimping and scrapping to get by until the next paycheck is just plain getting old. Particularly since I make a decent salary. Granted he does keep my kitchen clean and is here with Riley when I am at work, but this is not my life.

So today I ask him (again) about the Compass Center which is a place that takes care of homeless vets and gets them set up in low income housing. (Thankfully my wonderful GF has provided him with these resources including the medical attention he is now getting at the VA).

He stares at me blankly then stutters "that's mostly for housing"

Um, hello!

"Exactly. You don't live here and you can't keep staying here month after month. This was suppose to be temporary."

So uncomfortable. But what choice do I have? If he had been doing what he should have been doing all this time, we wouldn't be having this conversation.

It's time I started taking care of me.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

This is my Life

May First, and my ex-husband is still living in my basement, my dog is still regurging on a daily basis making him the equivalent of a special needs child, I'm still married yet my ex is already re-partnered with four kids and a grandson, my mom is as stubborn as ever and unable or unwilling to extend me even the most basic of courtesy, I can only see my girlfriend for a few days every month, I can't get a hair cut, go to lunch with friends, or see a movie. And I'm tired. Always. Very. Tired.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Meatballs v. Slurry, Round One

So I made the switch from serving Riley a slurry several times a day to serving him little meatballs he theoretically swallows whole; the weight of which (when seated in the beg position) forces his nourishment to drop down his damaged esophagus right into his belly.

Over three months on the slurry diet and not a single regurge free day so we had nothing to lose. Besides, I could actually make these meals in advance and freeze them in individual serving size bags. Moreover, when he did regurge, it came out a whole lot ... tidier.

So after several days of trial and error I thought I had The Whole Meatball Diet System down to a science. I'm talking
  • The Right Size Meatball
  • The Right Number of Meatballs
  • The Right Amount of Feedings Per Day
  • The Right Amount of Time Between Feedings
  • The Right Amount of Time Spent Vertically After Feeding
Sure did.

And then he regurged.

Here. And there. And again on Miss Waffles.

Over five hours after the last time he ate, and no, he didn't get into anything he wasn't suppose to, and no, there was no excitement that would induce an episode. I'm talking all calm on the western front


Oooookay (*insert several expletives here*) 

So lets spend another 45 minutes in the beg position without excitement, without meatballs, without chicken broth knox, without the bottle of juice.

Oh yeah, that will do it. We have you down for the count now MotherF'er.

Several hours of all calm on the western front later and yep, you guessed it



"The. Hell." Question mark.

Damn you megaE; you slay me, you really really do.


I'm ready for round two, are you?

Monday, April 9, 2012

Guilt is Not a Virtue

When I first met my new GF a little over a month ago, she made a comment that hooked me and reeled me in, like a salmon being prepped for Wednesday night dinner.

"I was raised by Catholics, so yeah, I suffer from Catholic guilt."

::Perk:: Someone who understands the Power of Catholics? This was a first. A perk. A curse times two.

Catholic guilt would define our together weekends. AKA every weekend since we met.

A pack here you know; a pack there you see. Neither left to their own devices, but still both without their leaders.

Imagine the guilt. Times two.

Blame the Catholics for our suffering. They, after all, blame us for not suffering enough.

But then, suddenly, there was something concrete to seal us in our individual pools of guilt. Yes, this last time, 45 minutes before She arrived back home, you see, some three plus hours after leaving me, Ted bolted. Escaped. Ran. Fast, far, and who knows where. Away. Not knowing where She was or when She would be home.

She blamed herself, of course. I blamed myself, of course. The Catholics of course blamed us both.

The guilt ate away at our cores. For 20 some grueling hours before the power of FB (and countless Catholic prayers) brought him back to Her. Thank God.

What lessons did we learn? Plenty, I promise you. Regardless, the Catholics lay in wait. Ready and willing to pounce at the slightest provocation, the tiniest misstep, the littlest BeHappy moments that take us away from any responsibility whatsoever. And we have leftovers of all of  the above to feed them.

Yes, the table is set, the timer on the oven counts off the minutes. And those Catholics gather around the table, placing their napkins on their laps. Waiting to be served.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

When Hens Kill

Last night Mother Hen's school had a talent show so I packed up the whole pack (including Birds Dad and my GF Kat) and we packed into the small auditorium to cheer him on.

Oh My God. We had to sit through almost the whole show before it was his turn, but, and I am not biased, it was worth the wait. Mother Hen sang his rendition of Cold Play's The Scientist, a Capella mind you, and he blew the roof off!

Yes, it was judged, and yes, he won first place. And oh yeah, he is going to be a superstar.

Watch it. You will get goose bumps. I promise.

When Tears Fall Hard

It has been several weeks since I accepted the realization that mega-esophagus has not only been winning the battle with Riley and me, but will likely finish the war sooner rather than later. Well, I have been kidding myself. There is no way I can accept that we have lost. I will never be ready to make the decision much less be there, looking into his eyes, when his DVM puts him to forever sleep. The thought of never seeing him again.... ever. That world does not exist.

And yet, the time. It draws closer.
And yet, already.... He is less and less... Himself.

How do I do this? How do I make the decision to let him go? I can't. I just... I don't know how to do that. I also don't know what to do anymore. Period.

Tears are streaming; but never more so than when I was with my GF, Kat, two nights ago.

[She, by the way, has been beyond wonderful. Supportive, helpful, caring, sweet, kind. She devised a way to try and feed him vertically, has sat up feeding him and holding him up several times, even brought me two calf sized bottle nipples so I can feed him vertically that way. This time she brought pet electrolyte solution and some stress potion seeing as he will most often regurge when excited.]

Two nights ago. We were together, but my thoughts were dwelling on Riley and this dreadful awful ugly disease that is slowly starving him. She held me close, tight, and told me I was safe; that I could let go now, that I could feel and mourn and damn-it-all-to-hell.

Suddenly, there in her arms, I opened my heart. Wide. I criedandcried. Hard. For Riley. For me. For the pack.

Friday, April 6, 2012

This Is My Pack

Bird - 17 year old two legged environmentalist with a passion for reading, conservation, and wrestling. The one and only lamb of my womb, she is the best thing I have ever created though I am not entirely sure how I did it. Endlessly interesting, fantastically inquisitive, boundless, hopeful, a sense of humor well beyond her years, protective, loyal, and open minded, she is a force to be reckoned with. But in a good way.

Mother Hen - My current host son from Malaysia, whom I have so nicknamed because he takes great care in ensuring I have taken my dinner. Which I wholeheartedly appreciate and believe demonstrates the great care he shows his pack. This kid is going to be a famous singer, and me? Well, I'll be his biggest fan of course.

Mr. Incredible - My previous host son from Germany, aptly named because, well, he is incredible. He  simultaneously pulls off his role as a Sith Lord and if you aren't careful, he will distract you from "work" in the most annoyingly irritating but most lovable way possible. I love this young man like he was my own son, though he is really my bestest friend - and I'm not just saying that because he is going to be a cruise ship captain and will take me to exotic locales in my gay old age.

Riley - four year old Australian Shepherd/German Shepherd mix diagnosed with megaesophogus January 2012. Quite literally responsible for saving me when betrayal and heartbreak struck me down in 2008, this blog is as much a tribute to him as it is a vehicle for the immutable consternation I feel knowing I must soon let him go to forever sleep. Routine wrestling with when that should be and how I will survive it will undoubtably occupy a huge presence of space here.

Luna - black cat paininmyass. Low cat on the cat pack totem pole, she manages to boss Riley, bitching at him and trying to intimidate whenever he tries to complain about her being on me, which is regularly. She is good for reminding me when I should be ringing the pack dinner bell and giving me the "I'm-covered-in-cat CanYouGrabMeAnOrgange" excuse when I am at my laziest, also a fairly regular occurance.

Miss - official name: Miss Waffles or some variation involving a lot of z's, aka the worst name possible when @ the dog park. Bird named her, so aptly (she thought) because her breath smelled like waffles when she was born. Enough said. She is a golden retriever, yellow lab mix who I watched being born. She is not real quick on the uptake, but she is loyal, playful (if not easily distracted), and very easy going. Except around strangers. Did I mention she was Bird's dog?

Pudgie - Tortoise shell obtained around the same time as Luna (2005 ish). Talk about a force to be reckoned with. She has zero tolerance for either dog and doesn't much care for her fellow felines either. She can be quite bitchy if you don't sit down when she is ready for you to sit down, and really, don't look at her wrong either. You've been warned.

Sully - The baby but trust me, he lives up to his name by being a real monster too. With blue eyes and the softest fur (despite being an outdoor cat) this little big guy smells really good (for some unknown reason), too. Known to gift us with wild birds, he is also very likely responsible for the untimely death of one of Bird's pet snakes, but the jury was hung. Sully's favorite pack animal is Miss Waffles, and he loves on her with great panache, to which she usually appreciates.