Concateknit

For the Dogs

Claudia posted recently about discretionary spending, and asked a thought provoking question wondering what would be the last thing her readers gave up if it came the time eliminate discretionary spending. Unsurprisingly, there was a lively and thoughtful discussion in her comments, and it was really interesting to see what things people really valued in their discretionary spending. The people who talked about the fact that they’d go without before they gave up their companion animals really spoke to me.

At ARF, we’ve seen an upswing in the number of dogs who are owner surrendered – folks who are moving but can’t take their pets with them or who say they just can’t afford to keep their pets in this economy.

And I’ll admit that it’s likely that I am (more than) a little cynical. Because, really, what does it cost to feed a 5 lb

Chihuahua

? I buy my dogs Ultra Premium food, and feeding both of them costs easily under $20 a month. Certainly there are other expenses associated with owning Allie and Zorro. Allie is on two daily maintenance medicines which cost about $25/month, and their preventative treatments and regular vet visits certainly cost SOMETHING. But the thing is, when we made the decision to adopt Allie and Zorro, we were also making the decision that they were not, nor would they ever be, discretionary. Both of my dogs are rescue dogs – they didn’t end up there because they had fabulous lives before I came along. They ended up in shelters because something had gone awry in their lives, and when we took them home, we promised that we’d be the final stop for them. Almost two years later, I can’t imagine not having either of my dogs in my life, and in hard times, my dogs are what keep me going, get me up in the morning, keep me putting one foot in front of the other when what I’d really like to do is hide and wallow. My dogs are an integral part of my quality of life, and my quality of life is not discretionary.

When a 10 year old dog ends up in a shelter, my heart breaks, and I can’t help but wonder how you let go of a dog that’s been a member of your family for that long. I do know that there are absolutely cases where people find themselves in a position unable to keep their pet. I know that those situations happen, and that they are heartbreaking for everyone involved. It’s just that it feels a little too easy now for people to say “oh – the economy” and just like that, a former family member finds himself in a shelter.

With the upswing of owner surrendered pets, shelters nationwide are feeling the crunch. ARF is a volunteer run organization (there is not a single paid position on staff) and saves as many dogs as it does from donations it receives. In February, ARF placed 39 dogs in forever homes. I was lucky enough to know all of those dogs. Some of the ARF dogs break my heart, some of them are goofy, some of them are whip smart, some of them have a long way to go before they’ll be balanced family members again, but all of them deserve their second (and sometimes third and sometimes fourth) chance at happiness.

If you have a few extra dollars, take a minute to donate to ARF. Every $5 gets you into the raffle (drawing to be held this Saturday, March 7^th) and you have a chance to win some great prizes! This past weekend I was lucky enough to go to Stitches West and I picked up a few more fun prizes to the raffle:

 

A Knitwhits felted toy kit!

Chevron Cowl kit (yarn is baby alpaca and is AWESOME)!

Once you’ve made your donation to ARF, let me know how many raffle tickets you need either in the comments or by sending me an email to concateknit at gmail dot com. Let’s let the dogs know that we don’t think they're discretionary.

 

If You Can, Give

I know that I've talked before about Animal Rescue of Fresno, the no-kill shelter that we adopted Allie and Zorro from, and the really tremendous work that they do there.

The day after we brought Allie and Zorro home. They didn't know what to think of us yet.

In the almost year and a half since we adopted Allie and Zorro, we've donated a few times to ARF, we donate monthly to Angel's Gate, we participate in ARF's fundraisers, and, in general, I always recommend that people go to ARF if they are thinking about adopting a pet.

Resistance is futile.

Last weekend, ARF had their annual holiday open house, which is their main fundraising event for the year. As you can imagine, times are tough for them right now.

She's almost unrecognizable from that scared, skinny, neurotic dog we brought home in August 2007.

At the open house, one of the volunteers was manning their "Sponsor a Dog" ornament table, where for a $10 donation, you received a pretty handmade ornament with a picture of one of ARF's dogs on it, and as I handed over my cash for the ornament and the raffle tickets I was buying, I told her that I had adopted Allie and Zorro from there in August 2007.

She smiled at me and said "I fostered Allie."

Even thinking about it now, I get choked up. What an angel she was to my girl. She gave Allie a safe place to land after she was rescued from the streets. She was one of the first people to care for Allie in what had probably been a long time. She was as worried as we were about Allie's original wonky blood test results and what they might mean for Allie long-term. She was an important part of the reason that Allie was able to transition into my house and my heart the way she did. I don't know that I'll ever have the right words to tell Allie's foster-mom just how important she is to me, and to my girl, although I think the fact that I got super teary standing there in front of her probably gave her an inkling of how much I love my girl.

Allie and Zorro on their inaugural camping trip, April 2008.

And that's when I knew that more than my financial contributions, I want to make an even greater contribution to ARF by volunteering. I want to be part of that process for someone else. I want some sweet dog to arrive at his forever home a little better for having been cared for by me. I want to help these homeless, abandoned, abused, scared dogs become the confident companions and family members that they all want to be.

Zorro, enjoying the sunshine in his backyard.

At the open house, I met some wonderful little dogs who need to find their forever homes, and I only wish I could have brought them all home.

There was sweet little Lenny, who spent much of his life before ARF tied to a tree, and who is slowly learning to trust people again.

There was Lady, a sweet, older chihuahua who, like Allie, doesn't have a lot of teeth left. She's still super skinny, but she's putting on weight, and her coat is slowly filling out.

And then there was Elias of the big personality and funny little under bite. He stole the show and my heart. I had a really hard time leaving him behind.

All of these dogs have another chance at a happy life, and it is the volunteers at ARF, and the donations that support ARF, that make it all possible.

My life is forever changed because I've opened my heart to two very special rescue dogs. In a kill-shelter, I don't think that either of my dogs would have made it. So, we're all very lucky, and they have rescued me as surely as I rescued them.

Come closer and I will lick you.

So, in the spirit of the holidays, I'm asking you to give if you can. It doesn't have to be to ARF - all of the non-profits are hurting in these uncertain financial times, and all of them can use your support, even if it is only $5. And if you don't have cash to donate, think about a donation of your time or your talents. Give to animal charities, give to homeless shelters, or veteran's affairs, or food banks, or crisis centers - anywhere.

For those of you, and I know there are many, who give on a regular basis, I say thank you, because it is people like you who have made it possible for organizations like ARF to do the work that they do, and because of ARF, I have the most amazing dogs ever.

And if you do donate or have donated to ANY cause, leave me a comment and just let me know what charity or organization you've donated to. I don't want to know how much you've donated, just that you made a contribution. On December 31st, I'll put everyone's name into a hat, and the person whose name I draw will get a lovely New Year's gift from me. And the Goofies.

Inseparable. Really.

Working it Out - I'm a Rescue, Too

I believe that my parents did the best that they could by me.

I believe that they loved me as much as they were capable.

My mom's capacity to love is stunted, always has been, but I do believe that she loves me as much as she's able to, and that's all I can ask of her.

My dad's capacity to love everyone but himself is tremendous, and there is nothing in the world he wouldn't do for me except take care of himself.

But believing that they a) did the best they could and b) loved me as much as they were capable doesn't change the fact that many times, during many crucial moments in my life, what they were capable of was less than I needed.

Many of us can probably say the same thing about at least one person who has been in our lives...that although that person loved us, it wasn't enough, and we felt abandoned, left to the wind.

As adults, we're able to make choices about who is in our life and who is not. We can decide how much of an impact we will allow someone else to have on us.

But growing up, well. When you're growing up, so many of your choices are made for you, and if you're lucky, like I was, there are other people who step in, step up, and try to help, try to make up for the care you're not getting, try to make sure that your clothes are clean, and that there's food in the house, and that someone will make sure you have a birthday cake.

I had those people. I had a grandma who made me breakfast and took me to school each day and who tried to instill in me the importance of keeping a clean house. I had my g'pa, who thought I made the sun rise and set, and who took me on motorcycle rides, and to the bookstore, and who always made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

In addition to the family I have had, I have been blessed with amazing friends. Friends like Kim, who took me to the doctor when I was sick, who made sure I went to school, and is probably the second biggest reason that I graduated on time after dropping out during my Junior year (the biggest reason was that I was just stubborn enough to want to graduate because no one else aside Kim thought I would).

But even though I've had family and friends who have always been there to care for me, and to love me, for years, decades, even, I attracted boys who were not right for me, were wrong for me, were terrible for me. Boys who reinforced every negative opinion I had of myself, boys who tried to make me solely dependent on them and then who hated me when I allowed myself to become dependent. I fell into relationships with boys who tried to break me, and I was fragile enough that sometimes I was close to shattering. Too close. Very close. Cracked, even.

I met and married a good man who didn't challenge me, didn't play games with me, didn't make me talk to him, didn't demand honesty, and so I lied. Not actively, not outwardly, but by pretending to be less cracked, less close to breaking than I really was. And then I left, and thought myself a fool.

But then there was Mike. And Mike was real, and he was my friend first, and he sensed something broken in me but he didn't shy away from it, or from me. He saw through the facade of normality, wholeness, that I had constructed, and he demanded I be truthful and real with him. Over the years, one by one, I've held out all the broken, jagged bits for him to see, and every time, he's helped me figure out where the piece goes, how it fits, how it tells the story of who I am, and he helps me put it back, and I feel a little stronger, and I can feel fewer and fewer of those cracked, tinkling pieces crashing around inside of me.

I'm a rescue, too, just like Allie and Zorro. I've had to learn how to trust myself and the people around me. I've had to break bad habits and learn good ones. I've had to make myself be present in every moment, and to appreciate the small ordinary miracles like coming home to the dogs at the end of the day, or waking up next to Mike on Saturday mornings. I've had to learn that although it is not my nature to be sad, it is not my nature to be happy. I have to choose happy.

And all of these decisions I make, all of these things I know about myself now, and about love now, are because I was rescued: by my grandma, my G'pa, Kim, my friends, my dogs, and my husband. I am more loved than I think I have a right to, sometimes, but I'll take it. I'll hold that love like the precious gift it is every day, and I'll choose happy.

Here's to all the rescues.

Happy Birthday, Goofies

A year ago today, I introduced the newest members of our family, Allie and Zorro, and today I want to give a little birthday love to the two best goofies in the world.

Mike and I have wanted dogs since we started dating, but we waited until we had the time and space to be good dog parents before we actually adopted. By some miracle, the day we went to Animal Rescue of Fresno to meet Allie, we happened to meet Zorro, too, and we were smart enough to know that we needed to bring both dogs home with us. We decided when we adopted them that we would consider their adoption day their birthdays, since they started out their new lives with us on that day.

And so began one of the most amazing and gratifying adventures of my whole life. Every morning I wake to sweet kisses and happy greetings from the Goofies, and we have a routine that makes us all happy: wake up (all of us) - go outside (again, all of us), - make coffee (me) - take medicine (Allie) - call Mike (me) - go for walkies (all of us) - eat breakfast (the Goofies) - drink coffee (me) - cuddle (all of us). We do this every day, and it never fails to make me happy. I love taking care of the Goofies. I love having them by my side. I love that they have expectations of me and that I meet them.

Allie and Zorro have changed my life and made me a better person. I love them more than I could ever have imagined, and I feel truly blessed each day that I get to have them in my life.

When I look back at the past year, I see the most striking difference in Allie. When we adopted her, she was such a broken, scared little dog. She had obviously had a very hard life before we found each other, and there were times when I really just didn't know if I'd be able to love such a needy dog. But you know what happened - with time, and patience, and kindness, Allie started to change. And when I realized that part of that change came from her trust in me, well. It was all over for me at that point. And now I can honestly say that caring for Allie is one of the best things I've ever done. She went from this:

(See how thin her fur is? How skinny she is? The wary look in her eyes?)

To this:

Now, to this:

And Zorro...well. He's just the best little big dog you'll ever meet.

And now I have a hard time imagining my life without them. They make me a better person. They've shown me that my capacity to love is much larger than I ever thought it was. They make me vulnerable because I care so much about them, but that vulnerability is a good thing because it's so easy for me to just shut down and shut people out - but they simply don't allow that. They need me to be present for them and no matter what kind of day I'm having, they still need to be taken care of. They make me less selfish.

So, today I celebrate the Goofies' birthdays. I love you, Allie. I love you, Zorro. Happy Birthday.

These are the Days to Remember

My friend Sue and I try to get together once a week for Craftersize: a combination of crafting and exercising. Recently, we've been craftersizing outside and I've been bringing the Goofies with me. It's always so much fun and today was no exception.

Zorro woke me up at 6am for walkies (although he definitely knows the difference between the week and the weekend, he does not seem to feel that his walk should be postponed for anything. at. all.). By 8am the dogs had been walked, I had eaten breakfast, the dogs had eaten breakfast, I had a load of laundry in the dryer, and I had been drinking coffee and spinning for almost an hour. It was really a lovely way to start the morning.

At 9am, I loaded up the Goofies and we went to Sue & Randy's house. Now, the dogs love Sue & Randy and they love going to their house. As soon as I pull up, Zorro starts whining to get out of the car, and he always runs right up to their front door and starts crying to be let in. Once he sees Sue, he's pretty much cool with me doing whatever I want - he has eyes only for her.

Sue and I set up outside, and I knit while Sue spun. The weather was perfect, the skies were a gorgeous deep blue, and the view from her backyard is truly spectacular. Sue's dogs, Max and Molly, are great hosts, too, and do their best to engage the Goofies in a little playing.

After an hour or so, Sue and I hopped in the pool for the exercise portion of the morning, and I couldn't help but try and get the dogs to go in the water with me.

At one point, Sue stepped inside for a moment, and the dogs waited not-so-patiently for her to return.

It's now about 12:30pm and the dogs and I are back home. I've eaten lunch, the dogs are napping, I'm watching the Olympics while I write this, and soon I'll clean my house and do a little packing.

Today is the kind of day I love, when there's just no denying that things are good. I've got great friends, great dogs, great weather, and the rest of the day to look forward to. I hope you are having a great weekend, too.

Thank You

Well, your jokes must have included some good wishes because it has been an exciting week here at Casa Concateknit.

The long weekend started pretty crappily, as you know, but quickly took an upturn. Saturday morning, we went to look at some houses with our friends Sue and Randy (whose opinions we value very highly, especially when it comes to big-time grown up decisions) and we fell in love with one particular house. Saturday evening we went to a great dinner at Five in Fresno with friends to pre-celebrate Mike's 40th birthday and our friend A's 38th.

On Monday, we submitted an offer on the house we loved.

Yesterday we received their counter offer, with very minor counters.

This morning we meet with our loan officer and sign off on the counter offer, and then this afternoon we are heading off to San Francisco for a week's vacation with the doggers to celebrate Mike's 40th birthday, which is this Saturday. We have friends coming into SF to spend the weekend with us at the flat we've rented, and the temperatures, which are supposed to be in the mid- to upper-60s will be a lovely relief from the 100+ degree temperatures we've had in Fresno this week. I might even get to knit and spin a bit.

And right now? Well, right now I am sitting on my couch with Allie asleep on my lap and Zorro asleep cuddled next to me. I'm enjoying a cup of coffee before I start packing and getting ready for the day, and my house is clean, and I'm looking forward to the first real vacation I've had since Mike and I were married in 2006.  Good times, people. Good times.

Working it Out - Belonging

Mike has two adult children, and one very new grandson. When I met Mike, I understood that he didn't want more children, and not in a "I am saying I do not want children, but if we get married I might change my mind" sort of way. I have always respected that about him - the honesty, the clarity he has about this issue. Myself, I've never really been able to imagine having children, and since I've been with Mike, I have known one thing with absolute certainty: that I would rather be with Mike and not have kids, than have kids and be without him.

So for the most part, the not having kids thing doesn't bother me.

Some of you might rightly point out that I do have step-kids (and a step-grandson). Having had more than my fair share of step-parents growing up, I know that I cannot be my step-kid's mom. They have a mom who is incredibly important to them and involved in their lives, and I see myself more as a resource for them, a sounding board, and another adult who loves them (because really, children, even grown ones, can never have enough people in their lives who love them). But I am not their mom, and I am not their parent. I do not try to be.

With so many of my best friends either raising families or having children now, I've understandably spent some time thinking about what it means for me not to have my own children. I've found myself questioning if I can really have a "family" without having children. And while most of the time I've answered that question with a resounding "Of course I can have a family without having children!" the doubt remained. More than that, the doubt hurt.

Yesterday, as I stood in front of the mirror in the hotel bathroom getting ready to go out for brunch, I was talking to Mike, and I looked over at him, to see him laying on the bed, petting Allie and Zorro, who were sitting on the floor in front of him, all of them watching me.

And the light went on. Here was my answer. I stood there, looked at my amazing husband and beautiful dogs, and realized I was looking at my family, and to call them anything else would be untrue. I realized that I was the thing connecting them all to each other in that moment in time. That they all sat where they could see me and talk to me and that at any given moment in time, I could be the most important thing in the world to them.

And of course, they are the most important thing in the world to me. I love making them happy, I love making Mike laugh or smile, I love doing things for them out of kindness and love. What I do for them is not out of obligation, but out of a desire to return to them just a piece of the joy they give to me.

If that isn't family, then what is?

Ah, The Beauty of Blogging While, Er...Intoxicated

I'm working on another "Working it Out" post, but jeez...those take a lot of effort and sometimes I just want to chat with you.

So, tonight you get an "Elisa's been sipping the gin and is maybe, probably a little intoxicated" post. Which also means you get a list, because that's not too complicated.

1) I got my hair cut. Thank merciful Jesus.

I had this stupid idea to grow my hair out. I get that stupid idea every couple of years. But really? I'm just cuter with short hair. And the only reason I ever grow my hair out in the first place is to put it in a ponytail, and that's just no reason at all. So - chop chop and bye bye stupid long(ish) hair. I feel like my old sassy self again.

2) I took the dogs to the dog part tonight and Zorro got chased around by a wee little girl dog who was in heat. I tried to feel bad for him, but...mostly I just laughed.

3) On Friday we tried to go to the Farmer's Market in Old Town Clovis but they don't seem to want pets there (obviously no one in charge has ever met Zorro). We ended up having dinner with the doggers on the patio of a restaurant we like and the dogs were great. And also cute. And charming. And then some friends joined us for beer and the evening went from fun to perfect just that quick.

4) My doggers are both sleeping right now and I should be too.

5) I kind of feel like a grown up because my refrigerator was making a scary noise and I googled it and found out that it wasn't a scary noise at all - just a defrosty noise. I'm proud of myself for not just up and buying a new refrigerator (which was my first reaction to the scary noise).

6) I'm still not dieting. I'm eating tasty-ass food (seriously - TASTY ASS FOOD) and I've lost 10 lbs.

7) I also realized that I love strength training. There are few things as awesome as feeling your body get stronger. I love every second of every bicep curl I do. They're like magic.

8) Allie is laying close to me right now, dreaming. She dreams with her eyes open and her tongue sticking out. It's the cutest thing ever. Or at least I think so. Mike thinks it's creepy. :)

9) Speaking of Mike - he's traveling again. It makes me sad, but luckily this contract is only 4 days a week, so he leaves on Sunday and come home Thursday. It could be worse. I still miss him a lot though. And all of the time.

10) When are you coming to visit me? No, seriously, when?

xoxo,
E

Oh Right - The Knitting

I've talked before about how adopting the dogs changed my knitting habits, and the difficulty I've had integrating my Boston self with my California self. The thing is - over the past four years, knitting has become a cornerstone in the way I self identify in the world. I am a Knitter.

One of the things I've been working on over the past few months is learning new knitting skills and finishing old and outstanding projects. I've wanted to do some colorwork for a while now, but the psychic burden of my current UFOs has kept me from casting on for anything new. I had two languishing projects that needed two things: a crochet edge and buttons. Since I had never crocheted anything or sewn buttons on anything, those two projects stalled and added to that psychic weight until finally I had a good reason to finish them.

My dogs needed sweaters, yo.

When I decided to take this camping trip in April, I knew that the nights could end up pretty cold, and I wanted to be sure that the dogs would be warm, especially Zorro, who has very short hair on his back and very sparse hair on his belly. So I dragged out their sweaters, my crochet hook, my Vogue Knitting, and got to work. A couple of hours later, I had these:

 

 

Although it wound up not being cold enough for the puppers to wear these sweaters while we were camping, I felt good for having finished them all the same.

Poor Zorro - he really hates when I make him wear clothes, even when it is for his own good.

Ravelry specs can be found here and here.

Camping is Just Playing for Grown-Ups

When I was a kid, playing equaled action: being outdoors, building forts, choreographing dance routines for myself and all the neighborhood kids, trying to make perfume from the flowers in the backyard, playing Chinese jump rope for hours upon hours, making and beating the neighborhood record for most consecutive jumps on a pogo stick without stepping off, digging holes to China. Playing meant doing something, anything, all day long, and being rewarded at the end of the day with a good night's sleep and a sense of accomplishment. I loved to play and by the end of each school day or school week I would be eager, yearning for the time when I would get outdoors and get to the serious business of playing.

 

That's how I feel about camping, too. From the moment I start to plan, to the moment I pick the best spot for my tent, I am playing. Granted, my playing often involves less action than it did when I was a child, but still - it's play. Cooking becomes play, cleaning becomes play, going to the bathroom even becomes play (hey - anytime I get to wear a headlamp = playing), all the things that are chores at home become play when I'm camping. And so really, who wouldn't want that?

 

This is all to say that the camping trip was fine, and the dogs added an element of fun to the trip that I really couldn't have imagined. They were excellent companions and terrific campers.

 

We ate well:

We explored the campgrounds and none of us could get enough walking. We walked, we explored, we talked to people (well, I talked to people. Ambassador Zorro just softened them up for me first, with his cute tail wagging and wiggle butting), we hung out, we napped, and then we walked some more. The dogs were truly excellent little travelers, and I'm so excited for the summer now that I know that we can go for trips, go camping, explore this ridiculously beautiful state together. I've already decided on our next two camping trips and a summer vacation that we'll take to celebrate a milestone birthday for Mike. I can't wait.

I feel like a kid again. All I want to do is play.