Thursday, October 29, 2009

I'm 40 and I Adopted Two Cats

Good lord, I'm two steps closer to becoming the crazy cat lady on the news who has 500 cats. Somehow I always knew that was my destiny.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

It's Raining, It's Pouring, My Life is Boring Me to Tears

That's a line from a song. Can't for the life of me remember which one, though. For some reason I have Barbra Streisand singing it in my head. But I don't listen to Barbra Streisand as a rule. Must have been one of her 80s bad pop hits.

So guess it's been a while, huh? Talk about being a blog slacker. I've been so friggin' bored lately, it's not even funny. Bored at home, mind you, not here at work. The agency has been nuts. But I haven't had as many hours at the store, so I've had time to sit at home and think about how little I actually have to do other than work. I think about how I need a hobby. Then I'm reminded that writing used to be my hobby. But now I don't have a computer at home and I'll be darned if I'll pick up a pen and actually hand write something. Heck no! I might be technologically challanged, but I'm not a cave man, for Pete's sake. Must get home computer.

So here it is, after work, and I should probably go home. But why? Not much to do there really. So then I started thinking about how I should blog. But why? Not much to report really. But here I am anyway.

Let's see, what's happened since I last checked in. Gracie didn't quite work out. Too much energy and I didn't have enough time for her. So off she went to live with a co-worker who had another dog for her to play with and a nice, big yard for her to run in. They take her camping and swimming, which she apparently loves, and never, ever would have gotten the chance to do with me. She was just not a good fit. What I thought was a good walk was just enough to get her all revved up. I spent most of my time frustrated with her. Yeah, not a good fit. I miss having a dog, though. I tried to find a cat, but couldn't find one that didn't stick its claws or teeth in my flesh. Plus, where in the heck would I put a litter box? I'm hoping a nice little dog that needs a good home, no exercise, and won't eat my shoes or purses comes along. That would be ideal.

Speaking of shoes and purses, Belinda and I did some mega-shopping today. Big sale at Fashion Bug. She has an FB card, so she picked me up at lunch and told me to go crazy. So I did. New pants and shirts up the wazoo! I was in serious need of a new wardrobe. And now I have one. Woo-hoo.

And here's a cute Belinda and I story. We were out having ice cream the other night and we're sitting in the car people watching. This woman with a really cute bag is in the line ordering ice cream. We both said, "Cute purse. Wonder where she got it." So I get out of the car to throw away the ice cream dishes and do a sneaky little peek to see what kind of purse it was. I get back in the car and spit out, "Wal-Mart," like it's poison or something. "Ick," Belinda replies, and we both laugh. You know, just like we're Paris and Nicole and neither one of us have a purse from Wal-Mart. Cracked us up. You had to be there, I guess. Thank God for Belinda.

So now I'm the only one left here and should probably saunter on home. I have new clothes to try on. That's exciting. And I should probably go for a walk tonight. Not so exciting, but at least it'll get me out of the house for a while.

Man, I need a hobby. And a computer.

Friday, January 2, 2009

Farewell My Sweet Girl

So 2008 is over. Thank goodness. While the year was filled with many good times, my first memory of it is always going to be as the year that I lost my Kelcie. I don't think I have the words to express how much I loved that dog. She was a good, good girl. Now that I have a new puppy on the horizon, I find myself thinking a lot about when she was a puppy and just exactly how good she was. Of course, she, like Belinda and I, had the benefit of being raised by the late, great Mildred, the world champion of raising living creatures, human or otherwise. Mildred just had a knack for making you good whether you wanted to be or not. Kelcie was very much Mom's dog, even after Mom died and she became mine. There was no question that Kelcie's ashes would be buried on Mom's grave, whether it was against cemetery rules or not.

I guess I kind of knew going into 2008 that this would probably be the year that I lost Kelcie. She'd gone downhill quickly when winter set in last year. I'm lucky I had her as long as I did. But no matter how prepared you think you are, when the actual final days were evident, it hit me like a freight train. I'll always remember the last time she laid that little head on my foot and slept. I didn't ever want to move from that spot. And her last day, I got down on the floor with her and pulled her close, praying it was all just a nightmare. That was a day-long prayer, even after I left the vet's office with just her collar in my hand. I still haven't gotten used to walking in the house and not having her at the door to welcome me home. I doubt I ever will.

I am mostly excited about bringing Miss Gracie home, but am nervous about it too. I haven't had to deal with a puppy for 13 years. And, as I said, Mom really was the one who did most of the training. But beyond the normal fears--will she bark too much, will she pee on the floor, will she chew my shoes or, even worse, my purses--I have a fear that I'm going into this expecting to get my Kelcie back, and I know that I won't. Am I going to be able to let go of Kelcie's memory enough to let Gracie be Gracie? Will I love her like I did Kelcie? Is it OK if I do? Am I overthinking this? I have a tendency to overthink what I'm going to have for lunch, so this is probably some serious, serious overthinking on my part.

My sweet Kelcie girl, I loved you more than you could ever know. And I miss you more than you could ever know. Gracie will never replace you in my heart. Nothing ever could. But please help her to be as good and sweet as you were. And please keep her away from my purses and shoes.