Saturday, November 20, 2010

Pressed and Compressed

I had an inspiration about "Worth" and "Worthiness" and the role it plays in Shame, and what humans do to avoid it.

Funny how it seems to be universal, and visceral.

No time to develop that.

We got a dachshund about 6 weeks ago from a rescue service.  I should back up and say we lost our black lab, who had been failing for months.  The boys set up a chorus:  "No more old dogs!"  Connor found the mutt.  Showing far more initiative then he ever gives his schoolwork, he tracked this one down and presented his photo.

Well, he is cute.

And it's a good thing because in the short time we've had him he's proved to be a lusty barker (the rescue person said he'd been raised in a condominium and was a non-barker:  she was "worried" about this) especially when provoked by the cat, proved to not be reliably toilet trained (seems to ask to go out; taken out--requires a leash as our yard has no fence and there are cars in the front and coyotes in back--pees, urged to go some more, indicates he's finished, take him inside, poops on the floor), is interfering as I type right now, received a paralyzing back injury when he jumped from a low surface (which fortunately resolved on its own), and began to vomit, on the sofa, in between the cushions and into the deep seams of the cushions, a foul, poop-smelling substance.  What did I do with my time before we got a dachshund:  number one on the list for dogs most likely to bite?

AND, we secured the apartment.  Spent last weekend doing some shopping for it and moving big stuff in.  It's a 16th floor one-bedroom, which looks north over the river, the west part of downtown, and the peaks.  The boys have embraced it enthusiastically and have had no hesitation in claiming it for their own.

We haven't begun the rotation formally yet.  Gary took the boys over to spend last night and I'm typing this in the space I have before they get home.  What I should be doing?  Answering emails, vacuuming floors, doing laundry, taking the dog out to poop/pee, making a shopping list, prepping my work schedule for Monday, and writing in my diary.

We're finally on the crux of something I've been moving toward since well before starting this blog.  I began blogging with the intent of recording my decision process, and now am reaching the outcome of this path my husband and I have been on for years and years.  This last bit is moving as agonizingly slowly as the last few weeks of a pregnancy.  And then this will be in the rear view mirror.  I've been preoccupied with this for so long, and guided, kicking and screaming to this point, that it's strange to imagine what life will be like on The Other Side.