Short and unedited is still done.

I had to do Education's part of the new employee orientation today. It was still a mess, but it felt much better than the first time I did it as a shared presentation, which was a hot mess. This time I got people laughing a little more, and I realized it had more to do with being at the end of a long, droning day than my teaching skills.

I have to find some new tennis pants because it's getting too cold for capris. I only have one long pair and they're yoga pants AND THEY'RE FALLING DOWN. Yeah, that's right.

I ran off at the end of tennis after a stray dog. I know I saw her earlier but she'd lost her boy. I tried and got close- she'd even brush up against me, but I was not her person, so she wouldn't let me put the leash on, which I keep in my car, not that that should surprise you. My coach waited for me very patiently- unwilling to leave me alone in the darkened park, but eventually the skittish little girl ran off into the neighborhood and I could not find her and there wasn't enough light to try. I called animal control and felt like shit the whole way home, worried about her. I have to console myself that I tried, and being an escapee does not necessarily mean doom for a dog. I am keeping m fingers crossed and I hope she finds her people.

On a positive bleeding heart note, I rescued many earthworms from the driveway over the weekend as well as a spider from the tennis court. My fellow students were like oh how sad, he's going to get trampled la di dah let's go play now while I went to find something to move him with. I relocated him to the grass and hopefully he found a nice home and is more of a spectator these days.

I got the nicest email today from one of my students. Not much makes me cry

No, that's not true. I cry about a lot of things.

I don't usually cry over people expressing gratitude to me. I love those students so much.

Sleep really well. You need some rest.

Gold Star

Gold star alert!

I tried to set up the sensor today. I got derailed because the receiver thing is dead, but I pulled all the supplies out and was ready to make an attempt. I was hoping to get this done before tennis tonight, but oh well. It may rain anyway. The important thing is the process has begun and I'm moving forward! Go Jenny!

Finding a home for Riley

I think about getting a dog- Lena's Bill made the point that she could easily make that happen- but I think now might not be the best time. I see people walking their dogs and I think I could easily change my life if a dog showed up, but for now I am playing tennis three times a week, I'm going out a lot, and I may join a pool players league. I had Riley through some very unsettled times, and I'd like to do it better. Of course, I could meet a dog and change my mind immediately.

It feels so quiet at home, but it's also nice to shake the routines up- I do not have to go home right away, I do not have to put on shoes and a coat last thing at night, and finding these things that felt automatic and are no longer necessary  remind me that they are not just obligations- there are values in them, and a choice.

Most of the time I feel like everyday Jenny, and sometimes I am blown over with sadness. I am not sad for Riley- she had a full, interesting life and it ended so beautifully, and I constantly think about how lucky we were to have that. I am sad for me, and I feel appropriately ungrounded, having lost my shadow.

I keep thinking of these memories and think I need to write them down or I might forget them. Riley was not an obsessive licker, but your hand might get a couple kisses when saying hello. When I went to do laundry downstairs, she would wander out on the grass while I kept an eye out, poop bag at the ready. My neighbors knew if she was out, I was nearby, but they always made sure.

My favorite thing- what warmed my heart every time it happened and every time I think of it- is that when she rode on my lap in the car (and she was always so well-behaved), she liked to rest her head on my driving arm. I always loved that, and hoped for straight stretches so she would stay longer, but it would only be for a few seconds at most before she'd lift her head up and look somewhere else. I treasured those seconds every time and tried to feel everything to absorb it and remember it and it worked, because now when I think about her, that's where she is.

When I said to Lena and friends that I had yet to pick out my own dog, they thought maybe I should continue in that tradition. I have no doubt that if I take too long, the universe will hand me one. For now though, I will just miss my girl.

Missing Riley

I've been changing things slowly as they come up: taking the dog food to work to leave on the free table, rearranging, picking up dog beds... I gave Ant a couple of her beds, but not her favorite one. Jasmine's bowl is washed and put away, and I gave Ant toys and bones and a brush. I feel fine through most of it, maybe a little sad, but I just pulled down the mortar and pestle Sean got for me so I could crush her glucosamine pill into powder and I cried my eyeballs out.

I think she was ready to go, I really do. I think about how she would stretch in her downward dog and just plop her butt down because she couldn't get back up from it that way- she'd have to lie down first. I think about the bloody drool and how she started declining hard treats. I think about her terrible vision and hearing and how through all of that, she was this sweet, happy girl and she didn't care what was going on as long as she was near me.

That last time I woke her up was after the vet had arrived and explained everything. Dad and I had just spent an hour at least outside with her in the shade and it was so quiet and lovely and cool and she just wanted to nap, right there outside. When we brought her in, she went straight to our room and curled up. When I woke her, she was a little testy, like "Would you please let me sleep?" Yes, baby. I apologized for waking her and apologized again for picking her up, promising it was the last time. She did not protest, as she'd gotten very used to the one thing she hated more than anything.

She was ready to go, and I am so fortunate to have been able to let her go at home, pain and panic free, napping in my lap with my arms around her- the safest place in her whole world.

I knew I wouldn't be able to move to a new home until after she was gone, because she wouldn't know her way around. I knew I couldn't move the furniture around or leave things on the floor. I knew I had to watch her pain and mobility and measure her food. I was her eyes on our short, slow walks and I knew which curbs she could manage.

Now Mini and I cry to each other and come running. We nuzzle and hold onto each other. She sleeps at the foot of my bed, and when I wake up at night, she crackles the barest noise to me and I feel the slight weight of her tiny paws. She noses at the covers and I lift them up as she burrows in beside me. She is not comfortable until her face is buried in my hand and I coo to her as she brushes me with her tail.

She is old too- 11- but she is a very small cat and her age is a quieter management than Riley's. I joke that I can make people in my neighborhood REALLY think I'm crazy- first, the dog stroller, next, walking my cat! Perhaps you remember my earlier attempts, but now that she is lonely and does not have a blind dog to harass or try to cuddle with, I feel like I should make her world more entertaining. I found some toy mice she adores and I marinate them in catnip, but it's usually too hot, too cold, or too mosquito-y to leave the balcony open, so maybe we ought to start venturing out. That's probably good for both of us.

Feeling Empty

Chris picked Jasmine up on Thursday, and I'm having the hardest time with the thought that I could stay inside for the rest of the night- no dog walk, no potties before bed. I have picked up some of her things, but it's a slow process. I just picked up her water bowl today. I am thinking about rearranging some things (Shocking, I know.) to better utilize the space- the same shit I am always trying to do, but there's this extra amount floor space, and I just suddenly feel so sad.

There's this neighbor who can't talk to me without mentioning how many shelter dogs need homes, and it makes me wants to club his kneecaps. It's not as if I am whining to him about missing Riley- he just keeps doing that, even though I keep telling him I am well aware. Somebody was bound to be the get-a-new-dog-immediately pest, so it might as well be someone I don't really know or care about. I don't feel ready to get another dog- I can't even consider it at the moment- but I will surely keep an eye out for any messages the universe sends me about it. I don't think anybody's really questioning whether or not I will have another dog.

When I look around, I see a messy place and I have been feeling so overwhelmed with everything and I'm playing tennis 3 times a week and hanging out with friends and I think maybe things need to settle a bit anyway.

Working on being here

Real quick-
Today was supposed to be cleaning and all the stuff I've been just unable to keep up with for the last month. (Has it been a month?!) Of course, instead I laid in bed for an hour and ran errands all day and when I was supposed to start cleaning, my feet hurt. It's how I do.
But somewhere around 8, I got the train moving, and have been picking up and putting away for 3 hours. My apartment is not cleaned but policed so that I can clean tomorrow, and I would not be horrified if someone walked in right now. I wanted to remind myself that this is in keeping with how I do everything, and while it's not for everyone, it apparently is for me, and it would be an incredibly kind gesture to not beat myself about the head and shoulders for it. Trust that the motivation will hit, and that it will probably happen at night. Make a note to look for jobs or schedules that allow you to take advantage of the motivation that often hits at 8 or 9 at night.
This weekend I let some of Riley's ashes go, and I want to tell you about that and share some pictures, but I will get that done when I get to it. :) I have been feeling so bad for not being motivated and productive and wondering if it's grief or just laziness, because I like to flog myself mercilessly. But HA, critical inner voice! Productivity wasn't lost forever, and besides- if a messy apartment comes along with losing my shadow, oh well, and I'm still doing the important stuff like going to work and paying bills. It can't all be up to par.
Tonight, while putting things away, I moved Riley's bed into the closet and found myself looking at things like the stroller and her leash and feeling a leap of panic, like oh my god, what the hell am I going to do with that... feeling all the guilt and sentiment and the mutual obligation to both keep things and give them to other dogs, and I had this overpowering and total unwillingness to let go...
Another day, another day. Leave that for another day.

Keep your circle positive

I went to a new Zumba class with Sarah this morning. It was intense and held in a studio designed strictly for Zumba, so there weren't a ton of mirrors, the lights were dimmed, the music was loud, and the instructor was animated. We want to go back, but of course it's intimidating for about the first 10 classes until you start to learn what's going on. Tracy, I really need you to come visit so you can come to class with me and show me what the hell they're doing. I am just going to have to go until it starts to look familiar. After the class, the instructor made his way over to us (in the back corner) and said he saw us trying and knows it's hard when you're new and can't see his feet, so he expects to see us up front next time. :o

So then I ran over to Walmart for a few things. I went to this specific Walmart because it's the only one that's got the trash bags I use and I'm pretty sure I was warned away from that one this weekend, because Burning Man is on. The parking lot was jammed full of rented RVs and U-Hauls and beautiful people were everywhere, decked out in their faux desert/steampunk/neon/Coachella wear. The Walmart had a trailer sized dumpster in the parking lot that was rounded over with cardboard boxes that were not broken down. Burning Man is carefully orchestrated and organized, and you have to haul out whatever you haul in, but some Burners can sure make a mess in Reno before they head out to the playa. I'm definitely not just talking about cardboard.

Walmart has pallets of water down a whole center aisle, and a sign that directs Burners to the garden section. They also have something like a two week no returns policy around this time every year, because a lot of the 75,000 people that will attend this year are flying in, so they buy everything here, then try to recoup some money by returning what they didn't- or did- use. The playa dust gets in absolutely everything, and some people have figured out how to take advantage of that business with specific Burning Man truck washes and such. For example, check out U-Haul's helpful advice:
https://www.uhaul.com/Burningman/

So not only was I at Walmart on a Sunday with all the Burners who are headed out to the desert today, but there were also some poor folks still trying to buy school supplies. I carefully navigated through the internal traffic jam and prepared to wait in line for a half hour. Some people behind me were getting seriously ansty, but it was really fine. Then I got outside with my few purchases, and some dickhead walking in with his friend makes a comment about my saddlebags. All I got in response was, "REALLY?"

Now, I know I shouldn't let that wide piece of shit bother me. If he really wants to ruin some stranger's day, his life probably sucks, and my guess is that he was coming from lunch rather than a workout, but I couldn't help but be mad and feel like shit. What a fucking jerk.

So I stop at Home Depot amped up, just willing the world to throw another comment my way. I went to the building materials to find some cinder blocks for my new tiny grill, but couldn't find a cart, so I picked up two and headed to the checkout. The cashiers say nothing as I approach, but as I pay, my cashier asks if I want her to find me a cart. The checkout is already halfway to the car, so I say no thanks and grab the two blocks. "You make it look easy," says Cashier #2.

YYEEEEAAHHH!

At home, making my lunch, I still felt pissed at that turd, but no longer hurt. I felt strong and fine, and ripped the lid clean off my test strip bottle. Easy there, Muscles. :D