Milo James

I did this for Sammie before she passed and I had every intention of doing this for Milo.  It just didn't seem I had little amount of time.

 Milo was a God send.  I had no intention of having a dog.  My parents had a dog all my life but it was never my dog.

I moved away from my family for my 23rd year.  I honestly can't remember when I moved away and when I moved back.  I know it was over a year but not sure exactly when.

I went to a PetsMart one day with my sis-in-law, for her to get some treats for their dog and that is when I met the love of my life.  He pushed his way into my lap in a ring of other dogs looking for attention.  He literally curled up in my lap.  He took my heart then and I filled out the paperwork immediately for adoption.  Never mind the rental agreement at the apartment complex or my roommate.  I did not discuss this decision with anyone...





The first year was so much fun.  I'd drink and pass out for hours.  Milo would go hungry and thirsty for hours on end.  When I start to drink, I would get angry.  Why was all this on me?  Why did I have to do these things?  So I lash out at Milo and did terrible things to him.  Through it all, he loved me and never shied away from me.  He was a great dog.



Milo and I moved back to live with my parents and I quickly met and married the practice husband.  I think he was a little jealous of my relationship with Milo.  And he had a right to be.  I loved Milo completely, without holding things back.  Not fair to the practice husband because I couldn't do that with him.  Part of the reason for the divorce.

Milo became an old man.  He loved to roll around on his back in the middle of the livingroom.  He would spend an obscene amount of time staring at you if you had something that smelled good (or bad for that matter.)

                     He took to laying in weird places.

But he never changed.  He still loved me and would still bump his head into my lap or under my chin.  He wouldn't move as fast as he used to but he managed to make the jump up and down from the very tall bed I slept in and managed to find his spot on the bed with him at my feet.

His passing has been horrible.  It's only been about 2 weeks and I can't believe he's gone.  I can't believe they are BOTH gone.  After I found out about Willow coming sooner, I started crying. I stood in front of their pictures and cried and talked to them.  I wanted them to know that I was not loving them any less and I definitely did not think she was going to replace them in my heart.  But I was so miserable about sleeping alone and being alone in the house. I hadn't been alone for over 14 years.  I didn't like it.

So, I miss my little man.  I want him back. I would do A LOT if I thought it would bring him back.  But it's not going to happen. I have so little amount of control over that.  So I'm spending my next several years with a new baby.  She'll be a good addition to my life.

All alone

Well, it happened.  I came home Tuesday night from work; expecting to take Milo to the vet as a follow up from his issue on Thursday....I came home alone.  I got home to pick him up and he was lethargic. Slow.  I had to pick him up and carry him down the stairs.  For some reason  I thought he was just tired from the stroke. Never mind he has been doing really well the day or two before.

We went ahead with the blood-work, to see if maybe there was some issues.  I started calling people...we got some of the results and I started crying.

This one was totally harder then Sissy.  I didn't want to lose Milo. Not that I wanted to lose Sammie, but I have never been shy about how I feel for Milo.  I have had Milo for 14 years...he was my child and my best friend.  I hate every minute of this...hate this.

Joe came (like a knight...) and we loved on him, I kissed him and then he went to sleep.  I have to admit that I was better prepared for this; thank you Sissy.

But the downside of this whirlwind of appointments with the vet in the last week is that I can not afford to pay for the vet.  I wrote a check and I am scrambling to find the money to fill it.  I could kick myself but I couldn't NOT bring him to the vet.  Why do they have to be so expensive?

I haven't slept in my apartment since Monday night. My ex has been great and I've been staying with him.  I haven't slept through this. I actually went to work on Wednesday, worked virtually til noon today and then I'm going to sleep in tomorrow and clean Joe's house.  I haven't wanted to be at home.

I haven't been alone for 14 years. I honestly don't remember a time where I have not been around someone or one/two dog.  I don't look forward to being home again. I really dread it.  But I don't think I can move in with Joe; or any of my friends really.  It's just so daunting.

I am going to miss Milo so very much. We had a relationship for the last 14 years that bordered on obsession for me. I delighted in that dog. Not that I didn't love Sissy, I adored her but Milo....he was my world. And Milo and I went through so much before we even got Sam.  I would never say that the time before the ex and Sissy were ideal. I was rubbish at being a "parent". But I wasn't any better when you added another 12 years with Sam and being married (and then divorced).  I like to think I became a good  parent with the help of Joe and just the patience and subtle guidance of my "kids".

I used to (lovely) call them my idiots.  Most people got that it was a term of endearment.  And I would never actually call them idiots because they were my everything.

I can't seem to find a good stopping point of this blog...I don't think I'll ever be able to explain to people what he meant and what she meant to me.  It meant I wasn't a horrible person because how could you be so horrible if you loved and were loved by the best damn dogs ever?  My dogs defined how I felt about me; my core being.

Milo is going to be missed.  Joe and I were going to go to his folks house this weekend to spread Sammie's ashes.  Tuesday changed that plan. Makes sense to kill to birds kind of thing.  I like that they'll be done together there.  For some reason, the thoughts of ashes being spread make me immediately think of them at the farm. Mom and Dad's house, Sammie wasn't keen on being outside without us being there and she was the same for the house Joe and I had together.  But the farm is where Sammie took a flying leap (and I mean flying) into the pond. She was young and was absolutely terrified of what the result was.  Having to swim the whole way back to shore was more work then she wanted. That's probably why she became so lazy.  Milo loved stalking the cats. I think he was just going to play with them but they tended to be smarter and never let him get close.  These are the reasons I want them at my ex-in-laws...they got a chance to be real dogs.

I cry at odd times.  Mostly when I'm alone and I find my mind wandering. I keep looking up, expecting them to be coming up the stairs....but I know they're no longer here.  So I cry but laugh too.  I remember the good times I had with them.

And the worst part? I want another dog already. I can not stand the idea of not having a dog.  My life is not complete without a dog. Ideally, I want my babies back....but I don't think I'm going to be blessed with that.  So I'm starting the search. I can't afford anything right now but I think that I should start thinking about what it is I do want in my next dog and then I can ask Joe to research the hell out of it.  He gets a kick over that. But I know that I'm doing the right thing. No one wants to be alone and I'm someone that needs to company.

Milo James and Sammie Leah

As a side note....half jest / half hope.....Should you feel the need to contribute financially to the mental well being of Shannon (i.e. pay on the vet bill), let me know! :)

This is what scared looks like....

First...I suck at blogging. I honestly think I'm getting dumber.  Is that the right grammatical way to say I'm be less smart...I blame it on soda and ice cream. I seem to be getting higher and higher pounds on me and so my brain is making room.

But the real reason I find myself on my computer on Sunday at 1:51 in the morning is because I feel like I lived through something this last couple of days.  It was actually one of my biggest fears.  I thought I was going to lose Milo.

Now, Milo is 16 and bless him...he deserves some peace and quiet.  But I came home on Thursday and he was a hot wet mess.  He couldn't get off the bed.  When I got him off the bed, he couldn't walk straight. Every few minutes he would have a case of the shakes and he would whimper. I don't think that I reacted right away because, while not normal, it was still kind of funny.  Until I got a better look at him.  He wasn't able to look straight.  He did circles and then he suddenly went slack.  I grabbed him and got out the door and to the vet in about 5 minutes

After a lot of discussion and an x-ray, I took him home. Mostly because the $300 vet bill was more then I could afford and the next round of tests would have been blood work and that was another $150.  I told them that I would take him home for a bit and if needed, I'd bring him back the next day.

Looking back, I am actually very proud of myself. I don't think I over reacted.  He slept for about 15 minutes and then jump up and get disorientated.  I'd jump up and pace the perimeter of the bed so he wouldn't fall off.  That went on for a couple of hours.  It was about 1:00 am that I figured out that I could take him off the bed and that way I could still sleep.

Friday found him better. Not 100% but definitely better. I think we agreed it was a stroke.  Seems like a minor one but still scary.

Saturday brought him doing laps around the downstairs.  I don't know that I was every happier then I was to see him get a little pep in his step.  For a 16 year old dog, he's pretty spry.

And the one thing that I did? I stayed calm. I truly did.  I'm really proud of myself.

But the thought of Milo leaving me?  That is what scared looks like...

Not really a full week

I swear I started this yesterday but things came up and I didn’t get it all done.






I did the bare minimum this week. I kind of checked out this week. I wasn't done mourning Sissy. I'm not going to apologize for that, I continued to for awhile there. But I wasn't really admitting to people how much it was hurting. My first real death of someone I loved so much. I went through the gamete of feeling like I killed her to feeling like I was not paying attention enough because I could have caught it sooner. All unrealistic expectations. So I just cried and slept. I woke up Thursday afternoon and just decided it was over; I could still be sad and miss her but I was done letting it run me. So Friday, I went to work. And I actually worked. Wasn't really as productive as I'd like but better then the day before. But I felt better. I feel better.



So, that's my excuse for the start of my first week challenge.



1. Walking

I walked 5 miles between Tuesday and today. I walked 2 of those Sunday alone. I had to have a tire replaced so I drove it there, walked home and then walked back to pick it up. And when it was nice out, I walked the whole complex, which is 1.3 miles. The last couple of days, being cold, I did the least amount of walk I could get away with. I didn’t go to the gym. I wasn’t showering on a regular basis last week so going to the gym wasn’t even something that was possible. It’s going to start getting warmer and I know that Milo loves to walk. So I’m sure I’m going to be putting in the 7 miles I’d like.



2. Goals

o My goals for this week are simple.

•  I want to get my emails at work down to a reasonable level.

I keep all my emails and my inbox at work is for all my action items. Things I need to work on. And then I file all others into other folders for reference later. I had my inbox filled up with about 1,500 emails at one time. Obviously this is not a representation of what I was REALLY working on but it was overwhelming every time I looked for something. So, around New Years, I went through my inbox and got it down to 300. That was amazing to me. But my goal was to never go over 500. I am at 942 today. I need to get below 500 again. This also means I have to do a lot of things in order to get the emails down. I’m thinking some late night working! So my goal is to get my emails down to 500.

• I want to get my laundry off my chair and put away

I’ve got a LARGE pile of laundry that I have. It’s all clean but never put away. Over probably the last couple of months. I am constantly having to dig through this pile to find something to wear. Instead of putting it away as soon as it comes out of the dryer, I throw it on the pile, assuming I’ll get back to it. I need to get back to it badly. I’m starting to lose track of my wardrobe and when I find something I haven’t seen for awhile it’s like a I bought a new outfit.



3. Savings

• My goal was to put ANYTHING I could into savings.

I managed to actually take money from my savings account due to a tire issue with the Cube. Fantastic way to end a week that was kind of draining and frustrating. So instead of saving, I spent. I’ll fix that this coming week…I hope.



4. Lost Weight

o My goal was to lose a few pounds each week.

Unknown if lost or gained.

 I didn’t bother getting on the scale this morning. Mostly because I was running late but also because I wasn’t sure I wanted to see that number. Not only did I not lose, I’m assuming, but I’ll bet that I gained. I went through my budget this morning for the previous several days and then looked further back to each purchase. I keep track of what I bought, where I bought it, how much it was and what kind of Category it fell into. Food, entertainment, utilities, etc…I buy A LOT of food. And I know that but I also know that I don’t tend to eat all of it. It’s a huge waste of my money. So I’m going to try to keep track of exactly what I spend (as I spend it) so I can see right away how much money is going to waste. And the bonus of that is that I’ll see what I’m eating because it’s not just a random run into QuikTrip and grabbing a Mango Smoothie (which I LOVE).



5. Activities done

o I visited the Diana exhibit at Union Station

My two girlfriends and I met at Crowne Center for dinner and then to look through the exhibit. (I think I need to add a mile or two to my miles…) We didn’t get to go in because it was closed…my girlfriend that did the organizing of the get together didn’t check. We walked all over the place to find somewhere to sit and talk. So it was a short get together but I walked all over and in heels…

o I knitted

I am about 2 inches away from finishing a scarf for my Aunt. Her birthday is the 15thand I’d like to get it finished soon. I am going to be “embroidering” something on it but that takes next to no time. I’m making the same thing for my Mom and I finished her’s a week ago. I am also working on putting together an afghan out of this gorgeous bluish green yarn. I’m looking forward to getting that done. And of course I have a lot of other projects I want to do. I’m only knit stitching and so I need to learn how to purl. That’s my next goal. Start the next “scarf test” with the new stitch. I think I want to do a scarf for my Dad for Christmas but need to learn how to cable knit.

6. Chores

o I cleaned the kitchen and cleaned out the fridge. I need to do a bit more but the basic cleaning is done.



This last week was a rough one. I’m not going to lie, I spent a lot of time in bed and watching TV. I just didn’t want to do anything. But it’s getting better. This weekend was full of stuff to do and I didn’t freak out about being away from Milo. A big step.

So my goals being email and laundry seem like a small thing but I assure you it’s not. Especially the emails. I’d like to get that done by Wednesday night. I have very little to do tonight and Wednesday so I think it’s doable.


I’d like to think that I’ll be able to make this much more interesting. I’d really like that to happen so you’re not completely bored to tears with my pathetic life. Maybe I’ll start thinking funny again.

The results

I should have posted this sooner but results back from Sammie are that both were NOT cancer.  One was a fatty pocket and the second they weren't sure what it was but that neither were cancerous.  That's a huge relief.   The vet thought that it wouldn't be necessary to find out what the 2nd lump was but just keep an eye on it.  I'm willing to do that. 

Milo has not had a seizure, in my presence, for the last week.  And believe me...he has been under constant supervision. Every sneeze or pant will make my head swivel and I lock on him like a Star Trek tractor beam.  He goes through this intensive pat down each night.  Just so I can make sure he's still whole.

Sammie is in 7th heaven....I put a timer on and she gets 10 minutes of brushing, massaging and just general feeling up.  I know they say that dogs can't purr but Sammie does.  When I walk in the door each day, she crows like a rooster.  She will pop off little syllables of welcome...home...missed you...lets go for a walk.  The purring is like an even snore...in...out...in...out. She will actually fall asleep and continue to snore in and out...It is so cool to hear her purring while I'm rubbing all over her.  I am making a conscious effort to touch her on a regular basis.  The only crappy thing is the hair...It's disturbing how much hair comes off her...year round.  I should have put a schedule together for brushing her because I probably would have kept the amount at bay.  She loses the equivalent of a small dog when I brush her.



Doesn't she have pretty fur...great colors





Sammie's 217th "child"

 I have a motto about my dogs and my home.  If it doesn't have hair in or on it, it's not mine. When I refurbish things, I try to tell people that the bits of hair in it are my signature.  I honestly wouldn't know what to do when my house becomes dog and dog hair free.  I think I would like it for a few months but then I would want to have some little fur baby to wrap myself around.  I know it sounds morbid, thinking about the next dog but I think it's healthy to think about it.  Namely because I'm going to lose them.  And probably sooner rather then later.  It's going to hurt like hell to lose Sissy Girl and Milo.  I'm going to mourn them a lot.  But I know I will always want a dog...it just may take me a bit to get one.

I got this from someone and it was just divine intervention to get this.  I could talk about some of these points but I think they speak for themselves.

A PET'S TEN COMMANDMENTS.........

1. My life is likely to last 10-15 years. Any separation from you is likely to be painful.
2.  Give me time to understand what you want of me
3.  Place your trust in me. It is crucial for my well-being.
4.  Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment, but I have only you.
5.  Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do understand your voice when speaking to me.
6.  Be aware that however you treat me, I will never forget it.
7.  Before you hit me, before you strike me, remember that I could hurt you, and yet, I choose not to bite you.
8.  Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I have been in the sun too long, or my heart might be getting old or weak.
9.  Please take care of me when I grow old. You too, will grow old.
10.  On the ultimate difficult journey, go with me please. Never say you can't bear to watch. Don't make me face this alone. Everything is easier for me if you are there, because I love you so.

That last one is God's voice to my heart.  I don't know that I can be there for either of them but now I know I have to be there for them.  This isn't for me, it's for them.  I really would like to believe that it's never going to happen but it's amazing how quickly things seem to be happening. 

Sammie can't squat properly anymore.  And that's been happening for a few weeks before the vet.  But now she's starting to lose traction when she tries to jump up on the bed.  I'm taking action and having my Dad put together a spec for stairs that I can put next to the bed and she walk up.  Now, I know for a fact that they will never use these stairs.  If I pay money for them, they will not use.  But Milo is starting to miss the bed too.  I figure I can take some of the discomfort away if I try to do that.

Milo is walking into walls.  He did that a few times off and on but yesterday we were going to go out of the bedroom and I went to open the door and Milo was nose deep in the other side of the door, in the corner.  I had to drag him backwards and then push him through the right side of the door.  He fought me a little bit.  I hope that makes sense.  You would think he would remember where stuff is but maybe these seizures are messing with his brain.  He's kind of gone Air Head....he's resorting back to puppy like behavior sometimes.

I have bought them treats and  absolutely HATE that they have taken up begging so easily but I have to realize that they never got treats and now they are snarfing down a huge amount of bi-products.  The one I'm giving them now is absolutely hideous smelling.  I have to wash my hands afterwards but they seem to love them.  Beggin' Strips seem to be their favorite but God does it stink. The manufacturer must know because it comes in a Ziploc bag.  Saves me from gagging every time I walk in the kitchen. Makes you wonder what the hell they put in it.

And through all this, I haven't once thought about my health issues and I couldn't be happier.  I'll try really hard to not forget it completely but it's nice to have something/someone else to focus on and take away the really easy to get there self pity.  There is a lot of nasty things I could say....in the ceaseless pursuit to say the funniest thing I can to make you laugh.  But suffice to say, I'm just fine, wallowing in my denial.

Update after the vet

Well, as written in the previous post, I have visited the vet and I can't say I'm totally at ease.  There are, of course, things we have to wait to get results on.  But I didn't have to put them to sleep at that exact moment, one of my fears.  That's me being the morbid dick that I am.

Sammie had 2 of her lumps biopsied and the doctor's initial response is that she is not hopeful on one of them.  We won't know until Wednesday or Thursday.  If they are OK, then we'll just see how the others do.  At this point she didn't think Sissy Girl was in pain but it would explain her small weight loss and being kind of lethargic.  I'm super concerned and I don't want her hurting. If the tests come back positive, I can't allow her to be in pain; no matter what.

Milo was of a bigger concern to her at first.  With his age, she thought the seizures where probably organ failure.  She recommended some blood work; which was insanely expensive.  This was the cheaper option from getting some scans done to rule out brain tumor.  I took the less expensive option. I hate that my kiddos lives while at a vet office is dictated on what I can afford.

His blood-work came back negative for any failures and all his other tests where in good range.  So that leaves us with brain tumor.  The vet told me that, while his blood-work was good, he's 16 and deaf and going blind.  Is that the type of lifestyle I would want for myself.

He can have one more seizure...that's my decision.  Because, what if he just blinked too many times while swiveling his head back and forth?  This is what is in my mind instead of it being a seizure, because I don't know what to do without Milo in my life. And who do you invite to the little party at the vet when its time?  My parents want to be there for Milo.  They never really bonded with Sissy.  But Milo is their favorite for other reasons.  I explained in a previous post that you can read by clicking here.  And what about the practice husband?  He was in their lives for the last 12 years.  Having parents and practice husband in one area would be interesting.  But I think I want it to be just me in the end.  Have a little get together at the apartment and then I take them to the vet.

I have to admit that I am trying to ignore my feeling of morbidness.  I can't handle the thought of losing either of them and most definitely not around the same time.  I don't know what I would do if I opened my front door after a day at work, shopping, cleaning my car, etc and not have them running up to me.  I would cease to exist.

And that sounds so dramatic but I have had Milo 15 years and Sammie 12.  These are my children and can you imagine having to decide to put your children to sleep?  I know, to some of you, dogs are just dogs.  But to me, these are my children.  I love them no less then you love your children.

Over the next couple of days, I'm going to be staring at them more often and for longer periods of time.  It will not be inconvenient to take them outside for one last time at 10pm.  If they want to have a treat...they get 4.  Try to kick them off my bed?  I'll offer to sleep on the couch.  How else can I show them how much they have meant to me over the last 12 to 15 years?

I'm hoping this enthusiasm to be optimistic will work out in the end and allow me to not dwell on the fact that I will lose them soon.  Give me a few more years.

Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.

This technically should be done on day 25 but I decided to quit doing the last 10 so you're getting the 2 or so that I still wanted to write about.

The reason I believe I am alive today is because of Milo and God.  At the time I would not have said God but looking back, it was always God that kept me alive when I so desperately wanted to be dead.

I know I've talked on here about my bipolar and how it affected me in my 23rd year.  I was miserable and drinking like a hobo.  I was blacking out when drinking but I was also blacking out when I was sober. It was my brain shutting down.  I would sit for hours on my couch and be surprised when I came to that 5 hours had passed. Poor Milo had to go to the bathroom but I was unresponsive.  This was the black period of my life.  If I could describe to you what depth of blackness it was, it wouldn't be enough to give you the idea of what I was experiencing. I just floated in darkness. There was no hope or end in sight. I just existed.

I would not sleep for days. I lived in Independence Missouri at that time and Independence is not known for being a safe place to be out at night, in certain areas. I lived in those areas.  But I would be walking Milo in the middle of the night; places I had no idea where I was. I would come to from a black out and it would be 3 in the morning and I didn't know where I was or how I had gotten there.  Luckily I have a good sense of direction and I ultimately would get us home. Might take me an hour but I would get there.  I can just imagine how tired Milo was after those episodes.

And red rages, God I was so angry. I didn't know at what or how to handle it but I would lash out at everything. Especially Milo.  That dog was put in my life to save it. I do not doubt that.  But the way I treated him was inexcusable. And I will do my part to make that up to him.  I will never forgive myself for it but he has.  He never shied away from me, cringing. He would sit there for a moment and then come over and put his head in my hand and just stand there til I calmed down. The dog was what I needed at the time.  Just writing this has brought back memories and I'm crying over the pain I put him through. I love that dog so much...

But it got hard to breathe. I was having a hard time leaving my apartment. I would call sick into work.  It was getting black all the time.

So I did what I had thought about my whole life. I took a bunch of pills.  What happened next is only what my neighbor told me.  But Milo went crazy. He was barking and scratching at the door.  She said she waited about an hour before she knocked on my door and when I didn't answer, she thought something might be wrong. Milo was going crazy still.  She called the complex and they brought the key over and, well...you can imagine.  Milo knew something was wrong and tried to help; that is the only thing I can think of.  Maybe he really needed to go outside or something but deep down in my heart, I think he saved me.  Milo and God saved me....

I went to the hospital; I'm not smart enough to actually take pills that would have done damage.  But they kept me under observation.  I called my Mom to tell her that they wanted to admit me to the phsyc ward. She thought I would be fine without going into the hospital and in her defense, they didn't understand the despair I was in at that time.  How black my life had gone.  But I wonder what my life would be life if I had gone in...would I have been more stable between 23 and 33?  I'll never know.

Shortly after that, my parents came to Independence (about 2 1/2 hours away from them) and brought me back to their house, where I stayed for awhile and then put the whole thing behind me and pretended nothing happened...until 2007...that's another story.

But Milo is still around.  He's 15 and he is still the love of my life.  He loves me so much, more then I deserve.  He has never cringed from me.  He will do whatever it takes to get in my lap and just lay there. And I will hurt so much when he is gone.  He is the only thing I have ever felt unhinged love for.  I love people in my life but I love Milo like no one else.  It will be a very very sad day in my life but I know he goes on.  I have to believe that God wants him as much as I want him.  And, some day, I get to be with the man of my dreams forever.

My Kids

So I talked about my inability to have children and how I don’t cope well with other people’s kids but I didn’t actually discuss my real kids. I have 2.

Milo is about 15 years old and I have had him about 13 of those 15. He is the absolute love of my life. I went to PetsMart in 1997 with my sister-in-law to get something for their dog and the Wayside Waifs was having an adoption fair that day. Now, I had no animals or a desire to have one. I lived in Missouri and with a girl that I barely knew. And we had a no pet policy. So I was just going to love on some dogs and go home. And I really did not have any intention of getting a dog. But I was sitting in the middle of this group of dogs that were all trying to get some attention. I loved on as many of them as I could. Then this little stick of a dog pushed his way between a couple of the dogs and put his head in my lap and then kind of curled up in my lap. It was true love. Absolutely true love. I immediately started the adoption process and he came home with me that day. He was about a year or 2 old. He was rail thin and very light brown. I honestly had never loved anything like the way I love my Milo. He went through a rough patch with me. He was the rock I needed to get through that dark time in my life. I was saved by that dog so many times that there is little chance I will ever be able to express to him how much I absolutely adore him.



And now he’s getting old. 15 years old is pretty good for a dog. He’s never acted his age. He loves to play with Sammie and he is just so excited to see me that I get so much joy from him. But he’s pretty much deaf. I think he’s starting to lose his sight. Our walks need to be during daylight now because he gets hesitant when we’re in the dark. He’s walked into a couple of walls in the apartment when the lights are off. The deaf thing is kind of funny but not really. I have had to literally pick him up while he was sleeping because I could not get him to wake up by calling his name. It’s pretty funny to hear him snoring away and I’m poking him and saying his name, over and over again. He is then surprised and takes a bit to get orientated.

Then there is my Sissy girl. Her name is Sammie but I have always called her Sissy. She is 12 years old and is a handful. My ex and I adopted her when she was around 3 months old and have kind of wondered how we got such a weird dog when we pretty much had her from birth. She whines…all the time. I believe she doesn’t even know she’s doing it. It’s not like she’s in pain (at least I don’t think so) or needs to go outside. She whines because she’s bored and wants attention. She’ll be standing in front of the food dish and staring at it and start whining. It’s just like breathing to her I think.

But one great thing about Sissy is that she talks. When I get home and let them out, she will talk to me for the first few minutes of being home. She’ll crow like a rooster. She’ll grumble in her throat. She will practically purr when you pet her. She is so vocal. And she’s taught Milo how to do it too. He’ll try to make noises too. Not as good at it as Sissy but he still tries. And she is a belly slut. She will plop down right in front of you and offer her belly up at the drop of a hat. She loves people and will get in their face. Literally. She has no concept of personal space and will make sure you get a chance to pay attention to her. And she’ll use that against me because I tell her to go sit down when I have company and gets this sad look on her face and the person who is over will say it’s OK, they would love to pet her more. She’s manipulative that way…maybe she learned that from me.

I will always have dogs but I’d really like to always have these dogs. But I’m realistic and know that I’ll lose them eventually. I’m preparing myself for Milo. That one is going to hurt a lot. Not that Sissy won’t but Milo and I have been through so much that I bonded with him more than Sissy. But I am preparing myself. Both of my kids are extremely healthy. Milo had to have some teeth removed once and Sissy had a virus about a year ago but neither have had anything else wrong with them (knock on wood). They get their yearly shots and then that's it. We walk a couple of miles a day to keep them in shape, which is why I think I have dogs that don't act their age.

But I'm probably abusive in some ways. They do not get human food; it is human food, not dog food. They do not bark, jump up on people, get aggressive with other dogs (or each other), they do not get on the furniture and they are responsible for letting me know when they need to go outside. They are not to get in other people's face, although Sammie does not follow that edict. I don't take them for rides in the car regularly. With a new car, I have been reluctant to take them anywhere but I have taken them twice for rides. They very rarely get treats. Not because they don't deserve them but typically dog treats are so full of crap that it messes with their digestive systems. And they get the same food, regardless of what's on sale. I have had to change recently because Pedigree discontinued the food I had been feeding them for the last couple of years. So I have a new food and that has taken them a little time to adjust to. None of this is because they don't deserve to have or do these things but it's because I need to be consistent with what I do with them. Dogs are creatures of habit and I make sure that that habit is appropriate.


But with all that structure and consistent actions, my dogs are spoiled rotten. I absolutely adore my dogs and I cannot imagine my life with any other dogs. There is no way that my dogs are unhappy because they will run laps in the house, throw stuffed animals up into the air and try to catch them and roll around on their back making god awful noises but that is pure joy...how can you be sad when you see your dog rolling around, just because he's happy to be alive.  I want that...I'm sure you've all heard it but I love the saying "greet everyone like the way your dog greets you"...I know I would walk around ecstatic and loving, wanting only to be given a little bit of attention and then sleep for the next 4 hours.

 
 

Family portrait

On the spur of the moment, I took my camera with me for my nightly walk with the dogs.  I always have my camera with me when I've got my purse and I've been doing a lot more picture taking then normal. So I grabbed the camera this evening and thought I'd try to capture a few good shots.

With no real thought, I caught a glimpse of my shadow and that was it...I spent the whole 30 minutes (which normally took 15 - 20) trying for that perfect shot of the three of us. I got a good one of just Sammie:

I finally got a "good" one of the three of us.  I'd like it to be a bit better but I thought, for spur of the moment, it wasn't half bad.

I wish I wasn't so lumpy....

Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.

There are so many people that have helped me over the years, to get to this place and time.

My parents for sacrificing so much of their time and love (and money) to make me safe within my world. For calling me all the time and getting me out of the house. And then just for being my friends too.  They truly love me and want me to be safe and happy.

My dog Milo.  Milo was with me when I went through my tough time when I was 23.  And he's been there for me through the divorce.  He is always going to love me and it really is because of him that I"m alive.  I so did not want to be alive but I couldn't leave him alone.

My friends in the program. For showing me what a sober way of life looks like. And that I don't have to drink to achieve that life.

The program...for all the promises that it gives me.

My friends outside the program that have stuck through the worst parts with me. Weathered my anger and lying.  Only to be there on the other side of the shit storm.  They are so patient.

And I guess the one thing that has made me feel like my life was worth living was me.  My life is worth living for because I am worth living.  I'm not going to be a famous person or filthy rich...but I've got a pretty good life. And so much to look forward to.  Why would I want to miss out on anything?  Pain or joy...it's a great way to experience things; to be present and willing.

This one time...at Applebee's....

This is a long one but I couldn’t find a way to edit it down anymore then it is…probably everyone else could but it was necessary to me!


I was living in Independence Missouri when I was 23. One of my many jobs was as a bartender for a chain restaurant. We would occasionally call between restaurants to talk about what was going on, getting product etc...Now I should probably mention here that I had 8 W2s the year I was 23. Yes, 8….And some of those were all at the same time. I think I had 4 going at once at some point. I quickly left one of those jobs because it was encroaching on my “me” time (i.e. anything before noon or after 3am).



At Applebee’s, I was a hostess, server and bartender. Being a hostess looks like the easiest job ever but you really have to juggle the whole dynamics of the restaurant. Because if you seat someone in section 1, then section 5 gets pissed because you are favoring 1. Then if you seat section 6, they get pissed because you are slamming them with too many people at once and the odds of pissing people off and getting less tips is high. THEN you have to make sure all the busy boys are available and not out back smoking crack. If you slam too many areas the kitchen gets bitchy and takes it out on the servers who them take it out on the hostesses by not recording all their tips so they don’t have to put as much in for the hostess and bus boy tips. Vicious cycle.



Being a server was OK, I was really good about remembering what people ordered without writing it down but I always did because it bothered people too much when I didn’t write it down. Like I was just going to bring them whatever fell off the counter. I mean, people’s orders were lined up and if it hit the floor it’s not like we’re going to give that to some other table. They ordered it, they get it.



But being a bartender was stellar. I made over $1,000 one night, I was such a good bartender. Given, I was smaller and cuter back them. And I have a way of getting people to relax and get them engaged. Especially guys. For some reason, I have a pretty good knack for talking to guys and not sounding like I’m begging for attention or trying to make them save me. I come across as “real”. That is probably why I had a great deal of guy friends and no boyfriends.



One task for the bartender was to answer the phone. And there were times that it was idiots asking about pricing and how much alcohol and what is the tax rate. Is Melissa there?...Stuff I could just give a shit about. But sometimes, usually before the lunch rush, different locations would start calling, asking about stock. We constantly traded back and forth with other locations in the area. Low in tomatoes in one 5 miles away and we had an abundance of tomatoes…etc.



So I tended to work lunch (which sucks ass, not a lot of tips at lunch at the bar…more then you were guess but still not a couple hundred like at night), I got the different locations calls. I would normally hand off to the assistant or general manager after some back and forth. But there was a location that called just one time and talked to me and this guy kept calling back. The problem is….he was in Springfield Missouri. Like 3 hours away. Now, I can’t recall the reason behind him calling a location so far away but it became a serious scheduled event when I worked.



So I talked to the manager of the location, we'll call him Andy. I honestly don't remember his name so it could seriously be Andy...but I'm betting he doesn't follow me on Blogger.com...just a guess. Andy and I would flirt SHAMELESSLY over the phone. At one point he faxed me a picture of his driver’s license to show me a picture. This was before email really and definitely before cell phones with cameras. So I probably asked to see what he looked like.



I’m not sure I asked a lot of the important questions…like are you married, do you have kids, what is your favorite color….anything kind of personal. Now, I’m not the most moral person out there. I tend to leave my morals with the clothes I just took off in the back of a car. It never occurred to me to say No to certain situations. Ironically I was always drinking when I was in the back of cars naked. I guess I had some common sense when sober, not much but some.



So after a long time (like a week), Andy talked me into coming to Springfield to visit him. I immediately asked for 2 days off and got a map. Now, I had no thought process behind this. I had a dog…guess I’ll just bring him. Didn’t ask Andy, just threw Milo in the back of the car and head out. I didn’t pack any clothes. I honestly have NO IDEA how far away it was. I thought it was just a quick jaunt. I would have left earlier!



So the 3 hour drive finished and I found his house. It was late morning at this point and I be bop up to the door and finger the doorbell.



This puffy, rumpled and very severely hair loss version of Andy’s driver’s license opens the door. Hmmmmmm…maybe I remember him wrong in the picture….nevermind, I’m here and I’m ready for whatever happens.



I come inside and immediately Milo shits on his carpet….Hmmmmmm….maybe I should have let Milo out of the car in those 3 hours to poop or pee….nevermind, I’m here and I’m ready for whatever happens…as soon as I flush this paper towel full of poop.



I’m not sure what happened to this situation in my head to what was actually before me but about 20 minutes into the seriously strained conversation the doorbell goes off. He ignores it, doesn’t say anything to me. It rings again….still nothing. This is when it starts to go to shit….a woman starts screaming outside the front door that Andy needs to get his fat fucking ass over to their house and mow the fucking lawn. She knows he’s in there. He’s going to leave his wife and 6 month old son standing outside in the sun? Andy…get your ass over to the house and mow my fucking lawn….Hmmmmm…….maybe I should have asked those important “are you married?” “do you have kids?” questions ….nevermind, I’m here and I’m ready for whatever happens…as he scurries out the door to go mow the fucking lawn at his house.



I’m still sitting there trying to navigate my way through this baffling situation when he comes back in the house, still rumpled, puffy, less hair and now very sweaty. Not because of any exertion on his part on his fucking lawn but because in the 5 minutes since he left after mumbled something about leaving and will be back later. No he’s sweating because he just sideswiped the whole passenger side of my NEW car. I stood there and just shook my head. He mumbled one more time about leaving and will be back later; I sit down in the living room and start to wait for imposter Andy to come back so I can get his insurance information. Hmmmmmmm……maybe I should have left as soon as psycho wife and baby disappeared and never looked back…nevermind, I’m here and I’m ready to start getting a little perturbed.



About an hour after Loser Andy leaves, Andy’s gorgeous roommate Neil shows up. Now I did not know that Andy had a roommate, but I also didn’t know that Andy was married. Shame on him for not mentioning the gorgeous roommate though! Gorgeous roommate feels bad for sad sad sad situation I am in and asks if I want to go out drinking with some of his buddies this evening. He’ll buy me a drink…Hmmmmmm…maybe I could wait around for Loafer Andy and get his insurance info and then blow him off to go with Edible Neil…..well, definitely I’m here and I’m ready for whatever Neil wants to happen. But I should probably just get the insurance info and go home. Call it a day…



Bewildered Andy shows back up about 3 hours later. I had been watching TV while he was mowing his fucking lawn so I was kind of looking for some entertainment. I felt that Andy owed me a great deal because of this whole snafu and what was he going to do to make it right. Well Andy felt that it was appropriate to discuss this over lunch. Preferably at an Applebee’s so he could get a discount. Skimpy whore. We go to lunch and we do not talk more than 3 sentences each. Seriously. He wrote down his insurance info, we drove back to the house and he took another shower because he worked that afternoon. WTF???? I drive 3 hours to meet a guy that has a good picture on his driver’s license, sounds like a fun guy, wants to meet me and is willing to do what it takes. Only to find a wimpy, balding, dick that had to work when he knew I was coming to visit. Hmmmmmm…..maybe I should stay and go drinking with Gorgeous Neil?....nevermind….no wait, I do want to mind. I’m getting lit tonight!



Fast forward a couple of hours and Shannon is LIT. She had 6 guys surrounding her all night. And not in a “she’s our little sister” way but a full on court press for my attention. God Bless America. Hmmmmm…..maybe I should edit this part. Yeah, definitely edit this part.



Around 2 am, Shannon is sleeping her drunk off in the spare bedroom. Shannon is very intoxicated and barely knows where she is but definitely woke right the fuck up when she was poked in the butt cheek; twice. Rolling over, there is man next to the bed wearing a brown shirt. This is not shocking. Shaking the sleep out of her eyes, Shannon sees that actually it’s not a brown shirt but actually a naked man with hair over 99% of his body. And he continues to poke her to get her to wake up. Finally clearing away the last little bit of sleep, Shannon realizes that Chewbacca Andy is poking her hoping to poke her…..Hmmmmmm……..maybe I should have stayed with the 6 guys.



True Story.