Tuesday, January 26, 2021

Throwing Off the Shackles

  What do you call it when you fail repeatedly at the same thing?  Perfecting stupidity.



I can't treat relationships like the anemic sprinkling of a Catholic baptism.  Love, to me, is a Baptist full immersion experience. 



Each of my past relationships has left me: A) Washed ashore, with no clue how I got there.

                                                                    B) Regularly water boarded at Guantanamo.

                                                                  or  C) half drowned.

Relationships are expensive to be in and cost a fortune to exit.  "Oh, Jamie, you're doing it all wrong", they say.  No shit, Sherlock!!!  Regardless, I'm finished with the mental, emotional and financial anguish of seeking a partner. I'm nearing a year of hermit living, pondering my next move:  stick to what you know.  



The most rewarding pursuit of my life:  providing sanctuary.





Since the age of 15, I've recorded and categorized every dollar made and spent.   With the advent of Quicken and Quickbooks, I can chart my overspending on animals on pretty spreadsheets spanning almost 20 years.  My dad chides me that I could've retired 15 years ago with the money I've spent on furballs.  (He is right) To do what though?  Knit? I think not.  Spending 2 quality days last week (yes, I went back) in the hospital in the fetal position  gave me time to reevaluate everything in my life. The realization that there's so much more behind me now that before me, has raised my defiance level to that of my teen years.

Symbolic of my throwing off the shackles of living a traditional life, I brought another dog into my home.  The shelter gave me a bag full of meds to try to continue the rescue effort they started. 



I named him Connor.  He's a Coonhound mix,  He was severely emaciated when animal control seized him, scoring only a 1 on a body scale of 10. 



The first night he was home, I put him in the guest bedroom.  He shat on the bed and laid beside it.  I don't think he's ever known what it's like to have a clean place to stay.  



He's a clever old thing and quickly figured out you shouldn't poop in your castle.



A precious life someone discarded, he has a serious heart condition and tumors here and there. 



I'm not sure what's in the tennis ball size mass on his belly, but it's not a top priority at the moment.

Enjoying however much more time he has is.



Part of the reason he was so skinny is that someone in the past filed down all his front teeth.  Grasping anything, even a plush toy sends pain down the exposed pulp.



The atrocities invented to torture animals... man is evil.

And yet, Dog is always willing to forgive and trust.  Their faith in us is greater than my own.



A few weeks ago, I started online dog training classes given by the woman owner of Method K-9 in Idaho.  It's the communication breakthrough I've yearned for.  It's how a gutter dog who'd never been indoors became a well mannered house dog in just a few days.  It's how all the other dogs have accepted him as part of my pack.  



I'm gratefully celebrating all the wins because school started back this week.  I spent my day off stressing about the five Business classes I'm taking.



Blessed be the guy who likes to share my office chair.



I wish I could take him to class with me.  Yes, after a year of glorious home schooling, I must report to campus for night classes.  It had been 20 years since I'd sat in a lecture room.  Shell shocked after 3 hours of feeling totally out of place on Tuesday, I hurried back to my truck and sat in the parking lot contemplating a good long cry.  Then I remembered that if you're not putting yourself in uncomfortable situations, you're not growing.  Plus, my 20 year old truck gave me a good pep talk.  Unfailing and strong, she and I have been through a lot.  She's gonna get me through this.  I had to move a trash can to make room for her wide butt in these tight parking spaces, I can keep parking creatively. I can do this.



I'm still not over whatever is going with my innards.  I have more follow up appointments scheduled.  I'm permanently nauseated now and have too much belly pain to even consider running or biking.  I can walk, for now that will have to do for the dogs' exercise.  The result of my hospital time mulling was that I need to treat myself with the same compassion I dole out for all the animals.  I lift Peter into bed at night, yet I berate myself with the foulest tirades in my head to force myself to work through fatigue and pain.  I'll work late getting all the horses blanketed before a cold snap and skip my own supper.  

My body has spoken loud and clear, it wants to fire me as its manager.  To negotiate a truce with this corpse of mine,  I grabbed my new camera and took a drive through the countryside to focus on what is beautiful in life.



In the depths of being miserable, I'm grabbing at every occasion to find reasons to be grateful.  



I'm enamored with palm trees now.  



They make me smile, so I seek them out. They've always been all around me, but it's like I'm walking around this week with my eyes open for the first time.