Thursday, March 02, 2006

a great many things

So so so many things. So little time to blog.

1) I've taken up bellydancing and frankly, I love it to an insane degree. I've just finished my first eight week session and have signed up for the next eight week session! My very adorable teacher
Kristina calls my friends and me "The Peanut Gallery" because we're so squirrelly. Example of said squirreliness? My friend Jess and I pretended to bellydance as if we were cojoined twins. Kristina just rolled her eyes, laughed, and walked away. She's a very patient person. A picture of the lovely hip scarf I bought is on the left!

2) Mr. F and I just had the most fabulous vacation ever in glorious Duluth (MN pronunciation: Doooo-lute). I was a little iffy about the cabin I rented for us. I thought,
this place looks like it could be shoddy. And I really didn't want shoddy. Mr. F and I haven't gotten to spend a lot of time together because of his crazy schedule (school and work) and I can't go over there with my dog CW any more because he got some nasty hategram about "NO DOGS EVER" blah blah blah. So this weekend was really important to me.

Well, shiiiit, that place rocked. It was cheap as the day is long but so well-kept. So clean. And really, what more can one ask for? Our little one bedroom cabin had a full kitchen and a fireplace. The kitchen came in handy because we really didn't leave the cabin AT ALL. Yum. I guess Mr. F missed me too.

Here are some pics from the cabin's website - this is pretty true to form. But because it was February when we went, just add way way way way more snow.

It's so beautiful up there. God, that was the nicest vacation I've ever hand, hands down. No drama, no stress, nada. Just sex, food, sex, food, long walk, sex and passing out from exhaustion. The best.

3) The worst, however, is what's happening with my dog Chilly Willy. I never understood why everyone hated on her. I'd be all, "You just hate little dogs. She's my baby. Why do you hate my baby, hater?" And they'd be all, "Your dog scares the shit out of me. Ow! Ow! She's biting me! AHHHH!"

And I'd think, "Well, she wouldn't bite if you didn't provoke her. Stop moving/talking/breathing/looking at things so much. She doesn't like it."

Well, but I knew when I took CW in as a foster dog three years ago we would someday have to part. I want babies and I have zero doubt she'd kill any competition (babies included). That is not an exaggeration. I know she would gladly maim or kill a child. She's just that way.

So I started talking to a small dog rescue group in town and explained my situation with her. I told them the ideal person to take CW in would have the following traits/habits:

They'd either live alone or with one partner
They'd either work from home or have an abbreviated schedule
They'd keep a totally consistent schedule
They wouldn't travel
They wouldn't have people over
No children, no grandchildren ever
They'd be familiar with chihuahuas
They'd be familiar with aggressive dogs
They'd be willing to live with a very aggressive dog

Um, what? So basically a monk, a really gentle monk that didn't have his brothers around very much and had a lot of time to give to CW. As I went through the process of this I realized that I'm just not going to find that for her. And I seriously doubt I'd find anyone who would be as patient and nice to her as I am. Period.

So next Friday evening at 5:40 pm CW is going to go to the Great Farm in the Sky. I don't say that to be flip. I have this image of her cuddling on God's lap, which is trite and cheesy but it really helps. I'm going to miss her so much. The last three years have been hard - dealing with radiation and all my Grave's disease stuff, getting out of a bad four year relationship and subsequently dating a long line of psycho assholes, money problems, deciding against grad school. Granted all of these thing have ultimately been for the better but none of them were a treat to go through. She was the one constant, the dependable tail waggler, my little lap warmer. She always looks at me with pure adoration and I'm going to miss her little face so much. It's hard, but I know this is right. My vet said it best when I talked this over with her: CW is physically healthy but mentally ill. She bites everyone, including my dad and Mr. F (aka her pack). And dogs are hard-wired to not bite or fight with those in their pack. She's just off and is a dangerous dog. It's not a matter of if she maims/hurts/kills someone, it's a matter of when. That's a hard realization to come to about your baby. I'm so sad about it, I'm going to grieve, but I know it's right. My poor baby. We love each other so much. I'm going to really miss her.

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