Concateknit

So, there's THAT

Well, I didn't mean to start the year off with a trip to the vet, but that's what I ended up doing anyway.

I was petting Dezi this afternoon when I realized that it looked like his dew claws were overgrown and pressing into the pad of his paw. I can't even tell you how quickly his dew claws seem to grow. One day - fine. Next day - EEP.

So I take Dezi to the vet to have them trim his nails. I could do it myself (but Mike and I tried to trim Zorro's nails once and he gave us these SAD CHIHUAHUA EYES and we couldn't do it again) or I could take him to a groomer (but I don't love the idea of people I don't know using cutting implements on my dogs) but I'm really just more comfortable having the vet techs at my vet trim my dogs' nails because a) I know them, and b) they know my dogs.

So you see, really it's no big deal for me to take Dezi to the vet to get his nails trimmed except when it turns into something else. And when it turns into something else = when the lovely tech comes to tell me that one of his pads was infected and the Doctor would like to do an exam, and they'd like to give him some antibiotics. I say "okay" to all of these things because I love my vet, and I go to an animal hospital that has never once made me believe they were suggesting something unnecessary. So, I wait a little while, and the Doctor comes out, and she tells me about the infected pad, the antibiotics and one more thing:

The cone. The vet tech hadn't mentioned the cone.

Needless to say, we are at home and when Dezi isn't bumping into walls and getting caught on things, we're having a little love-in on the couch.

National Elisa Thinks There Are Worse Places to go Than San Diego

Or, hello, I will be travelling a lot this month.

Boy, oh boy, will I EVER be travelling a lot this month. It never fails that the Universe conspires to kick me in the ass every time I decide to commit to a NETSM. This year, though, rather than shake my tiny little fists at the Universe in rage, I will just try and go with it. I mean, we'll see how that works out for me, but that's my plan for now - going with it.

In the first installment of "Where in the world is Concateknit" I'll be travelling to San Diego for work. I'm going to be working a booth for my parent company, and although I've worked for my organization for four years now (how did that happen?) I am suddenly nervous that I do not know enough about my parent company. So I brought parent company type homework with me in an effort to alleviate my "I don't know enough about my parent company and I don't want to look like an idiot in front of Important Work Type People" nerves.

Because OH HAI, I am always the same worried and nervous person, even when I move across country and change industries completely (no, that shouldn't be surprising, but YES, it was surprising to me when I realized it). I have never claimed common sense as one of my charms.

For tonight, though, I'm packed appropriately for both the conference and the San Diego weather (it will be chilly because not every spot in California is 80 degrees and sunny every day), I've written my note (and check) for the dog sitter (we all LOVE Heather), I've got my knitting planned (three projects for two and a half days is reasonable, right?), I've got my books planned (Game of Thrones, anyone?) and I plan to shut down my computer after I post this and spend some quality time cuddling with my doggies, who may very well think that Heather is their new "That Lady" by the end of the month, considering how much I'll be gone.

Talk to you again soon from San Diego!

National Elisa Thinks She Doesn't Run Day, Except Apparently She Does

Or, isn't it fun to talk about one's self in the third person?

Actually, I find it a little creepy when people talk about themselves in the third person so I will try to never, not ever, not ever never, do that again.

But I probably will.

SO!

I am running a 5k on Thanksgiving morning. No one is more surprised by this than I am (and yes, I do remember hitting the "register" button and yet I'm still surprised). Not only am I running it, but my WHOLE team at work is running it too, and someone keeps telling people about this 5k and suggesting that these people might also want to run it, and these other people keep saying "Hey - that sounds like a great idea, how do I sign up?" and OH MY GOD it is ME that keeps telling people to run with us, because apparently I need the spectre of public humiliation to complete a health and fitness goal.

Honestly, though, I had this realization recently that to really live a fit and healthy life, I can't relegate exercise to a single 35 minute session per day, even if that session happens six times a week. To be healthy and fit, I have to live an active life, and to me it seems that I need to do that in addition to workouts that require special equipment or gyms. I need to be more active - walking the dogs, working in the yard, going for hikes (except - no hills - hills displease me mightily) - just generally using my body MORE and my remote control less.

Also, I have believed for pretty much my whole life that I. Can't. Run. And then realizing that just the idea that I couldn't run has kept me from running really pissed me off, and so - POW - I'm running a 5k.

(Are you also starting to think that this is sounding like a Flogic post? I am. Oh boy.)

I'm sneaking up on this whole running thing by doing the Couch to 5k program, and here's the really fun thing - I'm doing it with my herd of little dogs. Yep - imagine - Concateknit who really has no idea how to run, interval training with three little dogs. The fact that the little dogs don't really have to run in order to keep up with me? Well, we're not worrying about those kinds of details right now. We're also not worrying about how I look running with three little dogs (who can keep pace w/out running) while carrying bright purple "LOOK I AM A RESPONSIBLE PET OWNER I HAVE PICKED UP THEIR POOP FROM YOUR LAWN" bags in my leash-carrying hand.

A minor aside: One awesome thing about interval training with a herd of little dogs (at least, with MY herd of little dogs) is that my little Miss Rosie girl greets every morning  now with three (little dog) big barks, and then immediately starts to run. She's at least 9 in dog years, people, and totally kicks Zorro and Dezi's butts at the whole running thing. I start off every run with a big laugh at her silly exuberance.

But! Also! So! Later this week I will get to do my whole "kind of running, but more like jogging, okay, let's be honest, it's really more like a quick weird shuffle-step" thing in San Diego on the water and I am totally looking forward to making myself look like an ass, which y'know, is a good thing, because I do that whole "look like an ass" thing on a pretty reliably regular basis.

I don't run, but I guess I do. Or something. #POW.

 

I have felt so hollow since Allie died. She was so much of the happiness in my life, and with her gone, I've been so lost. I'm doing what I need to do, and two business trips have helped distract me, but the sadness and the loneliness is always there, waiting for a quiet moment. I try to let myself feel whatever emotion is trying to come through. She was special and important enough to deserve to be remembered and to have her absence noted. I don't want to sweep these feelings under the rug or bury them as I've done with so many other painful things that have happened to me. But I also know that Allie's job in my life was taking care of me and making sure I was happy and okay. She wouldn't stand for the sad mess I've become. So today, with a clear blue sky overhead and a free day to myself, i am going to load up the boys in Scarlett (my new truck) and I am going to go visit one of my favorite places in the world, San Juan Bautista. I'm going to eat lunch at my favorite Mexican restaurant with mariachi music playing, and I am going to try and just be okay today.

Empty

I lost my little Allie girl yesterday. I'll never know exactly what happened, but she had a seizure yesterday morning and was gone by the time I reached the vet. I didn't know I could cry so much, I didn't know I could hurt so much, I didn't know I could love anything as much as I loved her.

There will never, ever, ever be another dog like my girl.

Tomorrow

The good news? Allie's heart is fine. The really good news? Her blood work all looked terrific. The bad news? She has hernia surgery tomorrow.

I'll take her to the vet in the morning and I'll either get to take her home tomorrow afternoon or, if this surgery is like her last, I'll bring her home Tuesday morning. We'll see. I'm prepared for either.

I'll work from home for the remainder of the week since Allie can't be left alone, and I'm thankful that I have a job that allows me this kind of flexibility.

If you have a moment, send a good thought my girl's way tomorrow. She could use your healing thoughts, and I could use a little bit of extra strength myself.

My girl, two weekends ago, laying on my chest and looking up at me. (With a little Zorro nose thrown in for good measure.)

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.