Farewell, Sweet Puppy

It’s so hard to keep things in perspective when you’re in the midst of them. I’m in California with my Dad and brother and the three of us are having a lot of fun together. I’m exquisitely aware of how precious my time with my family is and I’m doing my best to enjoy every drop of it.

This morning, however, heralded a very heart-breaking day and the discovery of some very bad news. Doc was really sick this morning so Wes took him to the vet for observation. He was acting like he had eaten another inedible object and this afternoon the vet called Wes and confirmed our fears.

The vet told us that he was going to need endoscopic surgery to remove the object and it was going to cost a pretty penny. Wes and I had a long, very sorrowful, conversation and we decided that we need to give Doc to another family.

Wes went to the vet to sign him over to their care and it broke his heart. The vet is going to do the surgery and then give him to one of the veterinary assistants to take home. He will be going to a loving home and will have access to all the life-saving surgeries he’ll ever need.

Wes and I ran around and around in circles but there’s nothing we could have done to prevent this one. We’ve taken excellent care of our baby and know that he’ll be in excellent hands. We just can’t afford the financial and emotional cost of a dog who can’t seem to stop eating inedible objects.

I feel a sort of big empty space right now and it’s hard to cry. As I said earlier, I’m trying my best to make the most out of my time with my Dad and brother and I can’t do that when I’m mourning for my puppy.

Wes is taking this very hard, however. He is the one who had to gather up Doc’s toys, food and water dishes, and leash and bring them to the vet. He had to sign the papers to give up our puppy and he had to go back home all alone.

I ache to hug my husband but for some reason all of this has happened on the one weekend when I am 2,000 miles away. Like so many things this year, I don’t understand why this is happening but I feel peace with the choice we’ve made.

We’re both going to miss our puppy fiercely but hopefully with a fresh start Doc will get a chance to stop his destructive habit. We really enjoyed having Doc in our lives and know that he will sweeten the days of his new owner.

Slash Metal Bears

Before I leave for California I’ll spin you a quick yarn about bad music. Reeeeally bad music…

My new job is working for a company that produces customized water, beer, and wine bottle labels. We have a warehouse attached to the office and the area that I’m currently working in is right next to it. As such, I am privy to some of the most outlandishly bad music that I have ever been exposed to in my life.

Yesterday, I was able to make out the lyrics, “I’m such a handsome brotherrrrrrr so I use a f***in’ rubberrrrrrrr”. Today, they were all about the faux-rage-filled rap/rock from the late 1990’s and early 2000’s. I heard a Puddle of Mudd (I just realized that by making a single error in entering that band name you can turn them into Puffle of Mudd, which sounds much better I think) song I haven’t heard in years with lyrics like “I love the way you scratch my ass” which makes me wonder why I was listening to it even back when it was marginally acceptable.

It also makes me wonder if all warehouses are filled with such angry-music loving people. Did my shirt get packaged by a guy bouncing his head along to the vitriolic sounds of Slayer? Has my Old Navy shirt just gone slash-metal? It’s great to think of all those stuffed bears you see at Hallmark stores getting packaged into boxes by guys listening to bands like Kottonmouth Kings and Insane Clown Posse.

Do you think it was the bears that pushed them to that place? Do you think before they started working there they listened to Celine Dion? That would be a great transition. To watch as these guys come home night after night, exhausted and fighting the growing feeling that something’s just not right. They pick up her CD one night and scream “Your heart will go on INDEED, Celine, but without me!”.

Huh, even with two jobs I’ve still got too much time on my hands…


Oh man, remodeling a house is something else. Wes and I shopped for carpets today and my eyes ache from straining to differentiate between 4 billions shades of beige. BEIGE! I never thought I’d be a beige kind of person (I don’t even particularly like the way the word is spelled) but there’s home-ownership yet again making an entirely different person out of me.

Wes thinks we can get the house finished and on the market before our trip to Israel but I’m not holding my breath. The more moving pieces there are in an endeavor the more opportunities for calamity to strike and I, for one, am a freaking lightning rod for calamity.

For instance, see my very first car. It was a deep red 1991 Mercury Topaz. It was old, battered, but pretty reliable except for one dead battery. It was also, however, a magnet for destruction. It was backed into twice in the same parking lot, the windows all took turns refusing to work, and right before I sold it three of the four doors would no longer unlock. I took immaculate care of that car (I even waxed it!) but to no avail.

For another example, take the Infamous Exploding Casserole Incident. About two years ago I made a very yummy casserole for dinner and placed it lovingly into the oven to cook. When I turned around to do the dishes, however, I noticed sparks flying in the oven and when I peeked in through the window my casserole was all over the place. The 1/4 inch-thick solid glass Pyrex dish had shattered and sent my yummy casserole flying throughout the oven like so much space-detritus. I did what any sensible person would do: I sat on the floor, started crying, called my mother, then called my mother-in-law, and then called my husband and asked him to pick up some pizza.

For my last example, please see the first time I ever questioned whether I was meant to be a mother someday. I was watching my one-year old niece and had turned around to wash some dishes, literally taking my eyes off her for one minute. Before I knew it she came toddling back into the kitchen holding a permanent marker and sporting some stunning black streaks all up and down her left and right arms. She held them up to me proudly and announced “I draw myself!” (Yep, she spoke like that when she was a year old. Genius, yes?). I had a really fun time explaining that one to her mother…

As you can see, I’m not a negligent person so much as I’m a person whom calamity happens to enjoy picking on occasionally. I have no reason to think that remodeling this house is going to be any different in this regard so I’m prepared for the worst.

If they discover a hidden cache of gnome clothing behind the vanity we’re planning to rip out of the bathroom I am sooooo ready. I’ve suspected my house of a gnome-festation for years.

Progress is In the Eye of the Ice Cream Holder

I have no idea where my time goes. I’m pretty sure I was alotted 24 hours a day just like everyone else but here I am at 6:30pm and I just finished working. I’m still getting the hang of working two jobs but I think so far so good.

The one thing I need to get into my head, however, is that “telecommuting” does not equate to “free open afternoons”. I keep scheduling non-work things in the afternoons and then wondering why I’m still working into the evening.

I had an interesting challenge today, though. Someone disagreed with me on my Qvisory blog. She was very polite about it but it was the first time I’ve been disagreed with on a blog. I have to admit it scared the pants off me.

The blogger who disagreed with me is a fellow professional blogger who writes about work-related things and is very respected in the blogosphere. As soon as I read her comment I felt nervous and wrong. After re-reading it, however, I realized that I stand by what I wrote and disgree with her.

Still, it was the first time I felt like a professional blogger and it was a little scary to stand on my own two so-very-new-to-this feet. It took a little coaching from Wes to disagree with her tactfully but I think I pulled it off. My first instinct was to say “She’s wrong!” and then hide under a blanket with some ice cream (a very sticky business) but Wes was of the opinion that I can’t just step back and be b****-slapped like that on my blog so I screwed up my courage and tact and wrote back.

Admittedly, I’m not the queen of tact. I don’t get into disagreements very often and when I do I usually end up either making the argument about the other person (hence absolving me from any blame whatsoever) or taking all the blame on myself and rolling over like a dead duck toy (that sends up bubbles instead of quacks).

I’m happy I have the chance to engage in some adult polite disagreement. I’m not certain but this may be what my therapist calls “progress”. I’m still not sure that eating ice cream under a blanket isn’t the best course of action but I guess that’s why I’m not my own therapist.

Aaaaaand I’m Spent

I started my 2nd new part-time job today and I’m having a dickens of a time juggling my two new roles. I rescheduled lunch three times with a friend and I’m lucky she’s so patient. If she weren’t so patient she’d have done the sensible thing and cancelled on me!

I love the old adage about how when it rains it pours. Wes and I shopped for home remodeling materials yesterday, I’ve got two new jobs, I’m leaving for California on Friday, and we’re leaving for Israel in four weeks. There’s a lot going on in my life but I’m really happy with how everything is going and very fulfilled in every area of my life.

Unfortunately, I’ve used up the creative juices that were left over from my Qvisory job and now I’m spent. If you want to read a post that’s actually interesting, by all means please visit here.

I promise I’ll be back with a vengeance tomorrow. New adventures and entertaining posts coming right up! After I drink this martini! And then sleep! And then drink coffee! Yay!