Non-committal Nancy … could be my new name

Well, I’m just crapping out on all sorts of commitments and ideas this week: boot camp, the puppy, moving North toward family.  I don’t quite know what’s going on with me … okay, that’s crap.  I DO know what’s wrong with me, I just don’t know why I’m doing all this stupid, noncommittal, bull-shit stuff.  I mean, who goes into a Motivational seminar on Tuesday, and consequently quits boot camp, having a dog and migrating within 48 hours afterward??  Doesn’t that sound a little bizarre to anyone but me?

So, let’s start from the top.

Boot Camp: I went for a month.  I loved the sessions – they were dripping with sweat, there was some laughing, some cursing at the instructor under my quickly expiring breath, lots of running and jumping jacks and ab workouts and more squats, lunges & push-ups than I ever thought I’d do.  I wasn’t there to lose “poundage”, just to get a little firmer, and it was really doing the trick.  I met a couple in my sessions that I really liked and hoped to become better friends with.  The person organizing the boot camp and physical challenge in general?  She is awesome!

So what happened, you may be wanting to know.  Since starting back on the dreaded anti-d’s a few weeks ago I have been suffering from nearly constant nausea.  During this adjustment period, I don’t want to eat or drink.  I just want to lay still without anyone talking to me.  Obviously, none of those things are possible right now – however, running and jumping and pushing and grunting and sweating in any intense fashion (unless it’s in the privacy of my own bedroom) is something that I can avoid.  So, I haven’t been to a session since last Wednesday – and I feel horrible about it.  The guilt is really making me feel awful.  I know I need to call the organizer who is so Awesome, but am afraid of her chastising!  I’m such a wimp.

Once my meds soak in and start doing their thing I am definitely going to get back into it … I HATE group exercises and sports.  However, boot camp is something that I had no problem participating in.  I loved it … plus I always won the suicide races at the end of class, so that was cool.  I usually never win anything when it comes to physical stuff.

The Dog!!  I have flipped and flopped on this issue.  I have blamed myself, I have blamed the City Boy.  I have blamed the dog herself, and I have blamed little orphans in Rwanda.  But the fact is this: this animal is a monster to come home to.  Is she housebroken?  Yes.  Does she still try to eat the remote control?  No.  Two good things in her favor, however she is NOT getting enough exercise.  The City Boy (this is the part that’s his fault) let’s her out of her kennel in the morning, but doesn’t play with her.  She just kinda lays around until it’s time for him to go to the gym or get ready for work.  Then, she’s in her kennel all alone for the rest of the day until I come home.  And HOLY HELL, you should see what I come home to!

Do you remember that scene in Old Yellar after the dog had become infected with rabies?  Remember, they had him holed up in the makeshift shed in the backyard?  Now in this scene, they weren’t sure if Yellar had rabies or not, but they had him in the shed just in case.  Travis came bee-bopping out of the house (1950’s style) with a bowl of slop for the dog.  He opened up the shed door with an innocent and naïve “Here boy.  Here’s your grub” (or something to that effect) and he was greeted by a foaming, growling, getting-ready-to-eat-you Yellar!

Well, that’s pretty much what I come home to every night, minus the foamy mouth.  Everyday I tell myself before I walk in the door: “Em.  Poor Lexi has been cooped up all day long.  She needs you to be patient and understanding.  She needs you to play with her and talk to her, and she really needs to go outside and relieve herself!”

So, I bee-bop into the house (2000’s style) much like Travis with a cheerful, “Oh, hello Girl!  Are you ready for a fun night with your Mama?”  She is wagging her tail so fast and furious that it rattles the crate something fierce!  I tell her to “sit” and once she is relaxed and quiet, I let her out of the kennel, throw a leash on her and we go outside for her to let loose, as it were.  Sounds peachy, right?  Kinda cute, right?

Usually, as soon as I let her out of the kennel to quickly put the leash on her, she runs past my legs and hauls ass up the stairs (she’s not allowed up there) and into my bedroom where she tries to cram as much of Pieter’s food down her gullet as possible.  I stop her, and put the leash on her collar.  She then tries to PULL me down the stairs.  Once I get her outside and she does her thing, she starts resembling a bucking bronco … jumping and biting and flipping and just plain going crazy.   This causes her to get all tangled in the leash, and when I try to straighten it out she bites me – hard!  She is now being aggressive … not just ignorant puppy biting.

So, I bring her inside and she jumps from the couch to the chair to the couch to the chair, then down and around the kitchen table where she tackles poor Pieter.  Then to the couch, to the chair.  I try to calm her down … she bites me.  And biting me does not fly with me.  I try to be patient, I try to be calm, I try to be assertive & calm.  But the look in eyes is pure rabies, circa Old Yellar in 1957. 

To make this ridiculous story end a little quicker I’ll just tell you, I’ve had it!  I am so tired of letting this dog destroy my evenings.  I am emotionally tired.  I am physically tired.  I haven’t been able to go up the stairs in my own house in months until she is put to bed each night.  Do you know how pitiful that is?  I placed an ad on Craigslist and now have 2 VERY suitable owners who are going to take a look at her on Sunday.  Both have substantial land for her to run herself ragged on, and both will have all day to spend with her.  I am glad that she’ll finally have the attention and time and room to live a happy-not-stuck-in-a-kennel-all-morning-and-all-day (I’m looking at you City Boy!) kind of life.

I won’t tell you about the horrible guilt I feel.  Because I know this is all OUR fault.  This is the SECOND dog we’ve tried and failed with!  I hate it because I’ve always LOOOVED animals, and never thought in a million years this would happen – twice.  I know I keep blaming the City Boy, but I can’t help it.  He isn’t a dog person (even though he’s the one who wanted her) … I take that back, he just isn’t a “caring for another animal” type person.  He doesn’t quite have the nurturing or patience or instinct to handle puppies.  Hopefully babies are a different story, because I REFUSE to place an ad on Craigslist for that!  (Okay, maybe I will tell you about how guilty I feel.)

The Migration: Now, a story about MY failure.  Remember when I told you we were planning on moving Northward within the next 2 years?  Well, we aren’t now.  I’m not looking forward to breaking that news to my family (see!  this is why I didn’t want to tell them anything).  It turns out, the City Boy really loves Florida and will feel like he’s running away from the recent problems we’ve had here if he becomes a Ohioan.  Me?  I’m just glad because I have become a HUGE baby when it comes to weather.

Truth be told, I would whine and bitch about the cold even when that’s all I had ever known before moving to Florida in 2002.  I would bitch in July when we’d experience a cool week of low 70’s (because seriously!  that is ridiculous!), then I’d bitch when it was November and 6 degrees outside.  I was basically in a constant state of displeasure with the climate.  And now that I’ve been “acclamated” as we like to say here in the Sunshine State it is like crossing the point of no return.

Case and point: On the news last night they talked of a cold snap in our future (for today).  It seems we were going to forego the usual 80 degree weather for a mere 71 degrees.  So, I made a mental note to wear a sweater.  This morning, I donned the sweater, and thicker winter trousers (still went with open toed shoes though) and headed to work.  Turns out today was a little cooler than 71 afterall.  When I stepped out of the office at 5 o’clock this afternoon it was a mere 62 degrees outside!!  So, I scurried, shivering to the car and hopped inside.  Turned on the heat and activated the seat warmer switch.

Seriously.  Do you really think I’d be happy in Ohio?  Where it’s windy and overcast?  And COOOLDD!?  No.  I won’t be.  So, if you’ve got any good excuses I can give my mom for us remaining here just let me know.  Personally I like the following:

* Well, Columbus is still an hour away from where you live.  I doubt we’d ever see each other anyway.

* I vote the rest of the family finally starts pulling THEIR weight, and I think we should start having mandatory visits to see the Beloved Em.  How about that?!?  I mean, why is it always ME that has to bend to your ridiculous climate?  You should WANT to come and bask in the warmth of Florida!

That’s all I’ve got.  Help!!  She’s gonna start asking questions soon and I don’t know how long I can hold her off!

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One Response to Non-committal Nancy … could be my new name

  1. 5hep says:

    This post kind of sounds like me in one of my posts last week @ http://briceshepherd.blogspot.com/

    I’m sorry to hear that Lexi hasn’t been the prodigal dog for you. I know how upsetting starting something and not following through can be. In high school/college (I can’t remember which) my mom and I adopted a Shepherd/Huskie mix, named her Delilah and had her for only a few weeks before Mom decided it was best for her to live with another family. She was a monster. Chewed on everything! Neither one of us was home enough to give her the attention and exercise she deserved. I came home one night and found my mom crying her eyes out. She had taken Delilah to the animal shelter without even telling me. It was the hardest thing she ever had to do. Also… last year Ally and I had to give up Dexter b/c he and Taz were always getting into fights and we were right in the middle of them. It was hard, very hard.

    And I know what you’re talking about when you’re talking about family coming to visit you. It’s been three years and the only people to come down to see us multiple times have been Ally’s mom, my Dad, and my two best friends. My mom or sister hasn’t even made an attempt to come visit. But Ally and I have been to KY numerous times to see them.

    Despite whatever funk you may be going through, just hang in there. Stay positive and get back into your boot camp routine. Nothing feels better than the therapeutic effect of working out. BUt you should already know that.

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