Home is Where You Fart Most

I have the day off tomorrow (today) to spend with someone I adore.

"Happy" is such a wonderful feeling when it's at it's most anticipated. *grin*

Since it's 1am... and I really do want to go to bed to be rested for tomorrow, I'm just going to post a few pictures of me and the boys and apartment stuff.

First: a very recent picture of me and P-Dawg. Yes, I'm sporting a beard now. Though it's truly more work than I ever bargained for, and yielding less-than-satisfactory results. Porthos... ...or Pork-ohs (baby dog needs to shed a stone) (just like papa) if I may be allowed to boast for a moment, is THE most loving and sensitive of dogs I've ever had my entire life. I could not love him more.

And then, proving "salt and pepper" is the new "black", the ever-handsome gangsta beagle, Cole. My sweet little princess is starting to show his age, but he's still spry and lean and has a coat that'd make a mink say "DAYUMN". Not bad for a gentlemen of 80 years of age (that's 12 calendar years this summer) . It's a little bit harder to get him to pose for pictures these days. He's grown weary of the paparazzi, or rather, just privy to the flash. It annoys him, so a lot of shots are of him walking away, turning his head or closing his eyes. Oh that clever hound.

And, now just to show y'all that I'm actually setting-up house. There are still boxes unpacked and much crap "undealt"-with (***note the conspicuous lack of any bedroom shots, and not because I fear the widespread knowledge of my porn HQ.) but I'm starting to really get things arranged the way I want them, and the plants are thriving and looking good. It feels more like home. Anyhow, just pictures to play us through the credits. No song lyrics today 'cause I'm going to fall-the-"eff"-down from exhaustion.

The Quick Brown Fox...

...Jumped over the lazy dogs.

'Just got an e-mail from my dear friend Jeff, who quite naturally wanted to know "who got the dogs?" in our separation. It's quite silly of me to not have mentioned it, but likewise one could assume that since I wasn't lamenting their absence that Ted and I had agreed on a mutually beneficial arrangement. We are doing the "shared custody" thing. One week at my place; one week at his, because really... the boys belong together no matter who they're with and both Ted and I would rather miss them both for a week at a time than to miss one of them all the time. Our babies are still our babies even though their daddies live apart. It's incredibly sad, and it brings up a lot of emotion for me. But Porthos and Cole are a comforting presence in my life when I have them, and hopefully equally comforting to Ted when they're in his loving care.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy... when skies are grey. You'll never know dears, how much I love you... Please don't take my sunshine away."

Severed Grapes: A Neutering Tale

I totally forgot to document that Eak and I finally had Porthos fixed. That solemn day was Monday September 18th, and our not-so-wee one is doing well now. Originally it was supposed to be September 11th but upon bringing the little guy into the vet, it turned-out he had an infection that we were unaware of. So he had to go on some medication for a week and we rescheduled the operation to this week.

Eak took him in and stayed with him for the blood test which checked-out perfectly and then the deed was done. The vet's office called to tell us that they had to let Porthos wander free during the day though because he was so distraught and vocal about being cooped-up in a strange place by himself. So he kept everyone company when he wasn't sleeping and we were told he behaved like a perfect little angel as long as he wasn't in the cage. Sounds just like him: create the perfect ruckus til he gets what he wants.

That puppy is such a little bad-ass, even though he's a complete sweetheart. He hates to be alone. He only does things when he feels like it, and he's constantly trying to steal toys, food and attention from poor Cole. But at the same time, he adores Cole... worships him really. It warms my heart. I really must find a way to post pictures from work. I've got some sweet shots that Eak snapped while I was giving both dogs a bath on the weekend.

But back to the neutering for a moment. We're still contending with the guilt of having Porthos fixed. It could just be a "male" camaraderie thing goin' on, but there really is something so basically "evil" about fixing an animal. Even the term "fixing" alludes that something is broken and needs our intervention. I understand why we do it to them, and maybe it's just a cosmic trade-off that an animal pays for enjoying the love and attention of being domesticated, but I still feel like we don't have the right or rather shouldn't have the right. With Porthos, there is a certain comfort in knowing we're not ending his breed. He's a purebred Basset Hound, and although they don't seem to be a "popular" dog, there's no danger of his bloodline completely disappearing. Cole is a completely different story however. It still bothers me (more often than I'd like to admit to the sane) that we had him neutered because he is so perfectly unique. His appearance, his personality, temperament and behaviour.... Cole is one special little dude. And there will never be another dog like him. No offspring, no other occurrence even close to his uniqueness. THAT makes me sad, because I can't help but think he could've fathered puppies that would have passed along all his best traits to a new generation of mixed-breed dogs. (Cole is a beagle/black lab/daschund mix for anyone wondering). -sigh- My special little guy. All in all, I'm just grateful to have such a wonderful dog, and now a second one. I love 'em.

Schoolin'

September 01

Yesterday I failed to document the fact that I received a package in the mail which turned out to be the materials for a diploma program I'm enrolled in to become a "Certified Radio Copywriter" through the Radio Marketing Bureau of Canada. Sheesh... how I've survived this long without it I'll never know. I looked the materials over on my subway ride home and boy oh boy, they're not foolin' around. This puppy's comprehensive. It caused me a significant amount of anxiety because my poor undereducated brain hasn't done anything remotely school-related for 12 years! If anything it's been diminished by substance abuse and general intellectual-coasting all this time. So understandably, a 14 week course with a 2-hour exam to top it off is giving me a bit of the shakes. Why is that I wonder? After all, the entire curriculum is based on the job I've been doing for 12 years. Perhaps I'm afraid to find out I'm doing things wrong. Perhaps it's because there's very little left that compels me to keep doing what I'm doing (professionally) and I find it more than a little daunting to just start giving my all again for the sake of getting an "A" in my profession that I'd gladly leave today if I thought there was something else I was qualified to do. Ahhh life questions! It's odd writing all this inner turmoil down, but this, and several other thousand doubts are bouncing around in my head at any given moment. What a loud head I have. At any rate, I start this course on Tuesday after the long weekend, and they recommend you set aside about 5 hours per week to get it done. That in itself seems like asking too much of me. And I say "me" in particular because I always seem to feel like I'm running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. No small feat for someone who just works 9 to 5 and has no extracurricular stuff going on in his life. Til Tuesday that is.

That's as good a note as any to change the subject and start documenting the fact that I'm a dog lover. Swing batta batta, swing. ...and a miss on that particular segue. But I do love my boys nonetheless. There's Cole, our 9 year old beagle/black lab/daschund mix, and Porthos our 6 month old basset hound puppy. Both spoiled. Both more than worthy of me posting hundreds and hundreds of pictures in my space here. But sadly since I'm doing the blogging at work I'm a little limited. I can't download the picture tool without administrative permission and it's not something I'm likely to ask for since it's oh-so-not work related. I will however, download a bunch of pictures from home once I have the chance (or inkling). Cole's our little princess, yes even though he's a boy he is a bonafide, royal highness, can't-sleep-with-the-pea-under-the-mattress, locked-in-a-tower, damsel in distress, princess. And at age 9, he's not going to change. We've made him into the little diva that he is, and we're subsequently trying NOT to do the same with Porthos. But it's hard. Both Eak and I have an extreme soft-spot for dogs, and we literally do treat them like they're our children. (obvious differences aside - you wouldn't put a baby in a crate with a raw hide, or spoon-feed it beef tripe, but I ramble). Porthos is quite possibly the most stereo-typically storybook cute puppy you could every hope to see. I remember picture books as a kid that were always illustrated with Bassett Hounds whenever the story called for a puppy, and now I know why. Porthos is quite simply the most mild-mannered puppy I've ever encountered. Yeah, he's got a stubborn streak like all hounds, but this dog is very sweet and gentle as they come. He's been hard to house-train, but worth every moment of frustration he's ever caused. Tonight's going to be the test-run for Porthos sleeping on the bed with us instead of in his crate. I'm not terribly worried about it, because he is really well-behaved. I just don't want him deciding to get up in the middle of the night and deciding to get into things. He's getting a little too big for his crate, so we've got to start testing the waters of his independence. We'll see how it goes.

When I said "til Tuesday" above, it gave me the idea for a song suggestion. A very haunting, little-known ditty by Til Tuesday, morbid lyrics courtesy of gifted song-writer Aimee Mann no doubt (but I don't know that for sure). I'm not choosing it for any other reason than it's my favourite song by Til Tuesday. Much better than anything they were ever known for in my opinion. "Long Gone Buddy" by Til Tuesday. Try to find it and give it a listen.


So what if it's breaking my heart at the root
Something that could happen to anyone, I suppose
Never any comfort to get from the truth
from knowing the part of this person that no one knows

So we just cry
with hopelessness
We're making
such a mess

It's long gone, buddy, now - run and go after it
It's long gone, buddy, now - run and go after it

It's not that I'm frightened of being alone
It's just that I know what a burden this grief can be
Everything happens for something, I know
Can't understand for the moment what this could mean

That love is gone
That love is blind
That love is
so unkind

It's long gone, buddy, now - run and go after it
It's long gone, buddy, now - run and go after it

Nobody wants to be happier more than me
Nobody wants to be happier more than I do
but happiness
I must confess
I don't have

It's long gone, buddy, now - run and go after it
It's long gone, buddy, now - run and go after it