Breaks are Times of Reflection

I've been sitting in this house, trying to get my thoughts together for days. It seems like every time I sit down to write, be it fiction, blog, letter, whatever, I can't channel a single ounce of anything eloquent or useful.

I used to feel so powerful about my writing, like it was a part of me, like it flowed from the deepest part of my being. Now, that place feels fractured and small, hard to focus on one small task or idea.

Oh, I feel the inspiration all right, but it's like a wave crashing over me instead a stream I can direct or channel into something worth while. I often think it is because I don't have enough time to myself, time to think or time to gather my thoughts. But I have had whole summers and weeks over winter breaks where I have hours and days to think and wool gather. Still, my thoughts seem like the shards of scattered glass that used to be a window into my soul.

If I could write, I think, what would I write about? So often I feel a deep urge to write, yet when I do nothing I cared about monumentally moments before seems worth the effort of even tapping it onto the keyboard.

So here it is.
If I could write, this is what I would write about:

I would write about how much I miss my friend who died in a crash two years ago. How I think of her often even though I didn't think we were close at the time she died.

I would write about how hard it is to grow up and realize that even when you've "made it" with a job and a husband and a mortgage, it's still hard just to get through the day.

I would write about how beautiful the snow looks when it covers the ground in winter. How the purple shadows cast everything into beautiful relief. How even a single flake takes me back to my college days when I felt so confident and free. I would write about the blank slate of the white ground that allows my puppy to write his existence in paw prints as he dashes through the snow.

I would write about the joy of owning a dog and a cat and how stressful being responsible for other living creatures can be.

I would write about how important family is to me now. How hard it is to wonder where my brother will go after college, if I will go back to seeing him twice a year. I would write about how hard it is to watch my husband's family struggle with their move and their sick daughter.

I would write about every character that lurks in the shadows, down country lanes and in shady groves of elm trees. I would write their every love affair and every flaw, along with their joys and sorrows and fears.

I would, if I could, but that gift is gone from me it seems.
So instead, here is a picture of my animals looking cozy over winter break. Perhaps they can speak for me.

Dog Park in Charlotte, NC

So we've found a really cool dog park in south Charlotte. It's called William R. Davie Dog Park and it's off of Pineville-Matthew's road for those people who are less familiar. It's huge, has a 20lb and under area and a 20lb and over area. The 20+ area is much larger, but both areas are decent size and we've only met very friendly dogs and people. It's completely off leash and lots of people go, so if you're nervous around dogs, try the small-dog area first. Still, we've really enjoyed it, so hopefully we'll see you there!

Anthony: My Little Lover Boy

Anthony has been so sweet today. This morning he jumped up on the bed and cuddled with us, purring and rubbing his face against our hands. Later in the day, he fell asleep next to me on the couch and let my pet and fuss over him.

At dinner, we took him over to my parents' place and he rubbed against ankles. Now, as I write, he is sitting on the couch next to me, kneading the sofa and purring his little gray-and-white heart out.

Oh, little kitty, you truly are my first baby!

The Days Roll By: Moving My Brother and Other Tails

I woke up this morning feeling like crap. Literally. My stomach was so upset for about three hours. But as I sat in the bathroom, miserable, my furry friends kept me company and that always makes me feel a little bit better.

The stomach upset, I'm sure, is the direct result of our misadventure yesterday. Leaving poor Wally in the backyard (he has free range of the screened in porch and our covered pavilion, so don't think I'm leaving my baby without shelter!), and Anthony in the house, we went to Clemson to help my brother move into his new apartment. Only thing is that his girlfriend also needed to move and she had a dorm room AND a storage unit. So we spent at least 10 hours moving/setting up their apartment. Whew! It was a lot of work, but totally worth it. They helped us when we moved into our house, so fair is fair! And good friends of ours stopped by our house once to check on the animals and feed them, so it wasn't as if they were completely alone all those hours.

So anyway, Mom and Dad chose Bojangles for dinner after we started heading home. I almost said something, because I have gotten sick from there before. But they just pulled in and I didn't want to make waves, so we ate there and I'm guessing my early morning illness was punishment for overexertion and poor dinner choice.

We got home safe and sound to find that despite our long absence, Wally and Anthony hadn't destroyed anything or run away so all was good. Our next big challenge will be Mommy going back to work!

A True Mutt: Wally's Story

When someone asks me what kind of a dog Wally is, I always say "A dog kind of dog." Because that's exactly what he is. Small, black and brown, with big brown eyes and a sweet disposition, Wally is about as typical as a dog can be.
When we first met him, his tag said "Wally, shepherd mix, 10 to 12 months old." I was struck by his sweet, intelligent eyes and the little white spot on his neck just reminded me so much of the collie, Kelly, I had when I was a kid. So we recorded his number and asked the people at the front desk of the pound to see him and two other dogs. Out of those three, Wally was by far the best pick. He was calm but not afraid, came straight to us and wanted to be pet and loved on. He was quite content to sit or lay down with us in the little visiting area. When we asked about his information at the desk, they came up with two other names, Ti and Levi, for the same dog. We liked the first name we saw on his tag: Wally. So from then on we referred to him as Wally and discussed him several times that day.

The next day we went out again to look at dogs and quickly began to realize what a good catch Wally really was. We loved his personality so we went back for him that day.

The question was, of course, was he potty trained? Was he cat friendly? Would we be able to make it work?

So we took him home and he very quickly showed us he was housebroken. In fact, he's so housebroken that he usually won't go anywhere but out back yard and we can leave him in the bedroom all night without worrying about an accident.

As for the cat question, we're still sort of working that out. They get along sometimes, sometimes they play and sometimes I think he ambushes the cat more than he plays with him. Still, they have been known to hang out together in the same room, sometimes even on the same couch. And the cat is almost as likely to pounce on the dog as vice versa. So, all in all it's working out. Anthony is less affectionate than he used to be which is a loss to me. But I really enjoy walking and training Wally and having him in our life. So I guess it's a bit of a wash. I guess the next hurtle is them getting used to me working again after this nice, long, quiet summer.

Pet Smart Classes

So we (D., Wally and I) have been taking doggie training classes at the Pet Smart near our house and even though we are really enjoying it, we're not the biggest fans of our instructor. Okay, that sounds completely contradictory but let me break it down for you in pros and cons and you'll see what we mean.

What we love:
~Getting to meet other dogs and dog parents
~Getting out of the house with Wally
~Wally getting lots of attention from both the instructor and the other pet parents
~Picking up little tips to use with Wally
~Going for a walk on the walking trail right by the Pet Smart

What we would could do without
~The long, repetitive, rambling stories
~The trainer asking us for any "major issues" every session and then not having a good way to solve those issues. Once in a while he'll come up with a good solution, but more often it's "use a treat" or "tell them NO!"
~The long pauses when we are just sitting, wasting time instead of actually practicing the lesson (which we usually don't know about until half way to three quarters of the way through the hour)

To be honest with you, if I had the hand out sheets and a few years experience dog handling, I'd probably do as good or better at teaching the class. Anyone who has ever taken a teaching or psychology class knows that learning is accomplished best by DOING. Therefore, sitting and listening to his vague instructions is not nearly as useful as trying the tricks and techniques ourselves. That's why we paid for a class and didn't look the info up online.

My advice to anyone going for a dog class at Pet Smart: go and observe that instructor doing a class before you sign up with them. It will let you know what you will actually get for your money.

Escape Artist Cat

So D. and I were going to sleep the other night when I had to get up to use the bathroom. On the way there I noticed Anthony was not at the foot of the bed as he sometimes is. So I checked by the bathroom door and realized he was not there either, which is unusual because if he's not in bed he's usually prowling outside our door.

I use the bathroom and start really looking for the cat. When I've checked his favorite spots (the big black arm chair, the striped sofa, the litter box, etc) and he's nowhere to be seen, D. comes out and asks what I'm doing.

"I can't go to sleep until I find Anthony," I tell him, feeling a bit of anxiety seep in. So we go through the entire house. Under every bed, in every closet, cupboard and appliance. We searched EVERYTHING. Clearly our big, fat gray kitty cat had slipped out the door when we weren't looking.

I grabbed a flashlight and went out back to the fenced in back yard to check for hiding kitties. There wasn't a single animal out there. I shined the light over the yard once, twice, three times just to make sure. No Anthony.

So we went out front and began searching in the bushes, under the cars, nothing. D. went to the back yard with me again and still no luck. By now I was getting alarmed, but still stayed pretty calm. I mean, Anthony is a big, fat male with all of his teeth and claws in good condition. He a) doesn't like to move all that fast and b) can defend himself if need be.

Finally we realize he must be off the property and begin walking our tiny street and shining our flashlight under all the cars. We spot two neighbor cats, one of whom is under a car. We're about to move on to the next car when I see an extra pair of white paws sticking out from under the same car.

"Wait, D., look over there," I say and point to the extra paws which has been joined by an extra white nose. Sure enough, as D.'s flashlight moves over to the car, Anthony slithers out from his hiding place. I was so relieved to see his stupid little blue collar and little white feet! I swooped in and grabbed him. He didn't even put up much of a fight as we carried him back to the house.

Now normally I would say "all's well that ends well" and for the most part it did. But now every time we try to go to sleep at night, Anthony spends several minutes crying at the front door as if he's hoping we will let him out to see his little friends again. Keep trying cat, it's not going to happen.

Doggie and Kitty

This is a tale of two species, who are forced to share a small 3 bed, 2 bath. The cat takes up one bathroom all to himself, so it's really more like a 1.5 bath, if you ask us humans, or a 1 bath if you ask the dog.

Anthony the cat has been with us for two years. He was adopted from a cat rescue a few months after D. and I got married. He's a very friendly cat who loves to sleep at the foot of our bed at night and greet us by trying to slip out the door. Anthony's favorite pass times include eating, cleaning himself, sleeping on the big black arm chair and waking us up in the middle of the night.

Wally is a new addition to the family. He's been with us maybe two months. He was adopted from the Charlotte pound at age 1 year. We got lucky that he's house broken, but like all puppies he's very fond of chewing anything within reach. My never-owned-a-dog-before husband is less than thrilled about this aspect of our new pet and who can blame him.

As for the two pets... we shall see if they become fast friends or mortal enemies!