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Friday, September 30, 2011

The whole world in His hands

I know that in the scheme of world problems, a dog is probably low on the list. But I figure if the Lord knows every hair on my head, then He knows how ridiculous I am about my dog and He won't be too offended if I ask for a special request.

I consider myself Christian. I was raised Catholic, went to Catholic school, the whole thing. But now...not so great about going to Mass every sunday. Let's just leave it at that. Even though my habits aren't the greatest, I do consider myself religious.

Mac had another vet visit this week. It didn't go so great. He went for blood work to see how his body was reacting to a new medication. The hope was that, with a couple Xanax prior to his visit, the vet would be able to take a blood sample without sedating him. (Since he's a "heart patient," there's a risk when he gets sedated. And he's always been a wild man at the vet- they typically have to sedate him to do an exam. Before it wasn't a huge deal. Now, with his heart problems, it is a very big deal.)

The good news is that the blood work came back ok. The bad news is that he's been coughing like crazy since then.

For the first day, I tried not to freak out...I figured he had been stressed out at his vet visit, it could be a residual effect of the sedation, etc, etc...

It's been a couple days and he was still coughing tonight. I started to freak out. I even came home early to be with him. (The coughing is because his heart is so enlarged from working too hard to pump blood. It's pushing on his trachea and other organs, which makes him cough.)

Do I think Mac will live forever? No. But selfishly, I need him for a while longer. So I begged the Lord to just hold his little heart in His hands. Is that a stupid thing to pray for? Maybe. I know there are starving children and other much more important world issues. But after 48 hours of around the clock coughing, Mac stopped and seems ok.

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Thursday, September 29, 2011

Country night out

One of my besties took me out for my bday last night. She knows me soooo well, so she took me to Toby Keith's I Love This Bar in Foxboro. Her hubby came along too- I have a long history of being their third wheel, so it was a blast!

To get ready for some serious country fun, I had to dress the part: big hair, and big boots.




(sorry, the self-portrait angle gives me a bit of crazy eye)

My cowgirl boots!





Ok, maybe my version of big hair isn't exactly Texas-big.






I had so much fun - it almost felt like being down South!




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Tuesday, September 27, 2011

The love of my life has four legs




Yup, there's no shame in my game: Mac is the four-legged, furry love of my life. I justify it because I don't have kids- so he's my child substitute. And he really is full of personality. I'm convinced that's what saved him when he was at the dog shelter. He had SO many issues...he had been taken away from his previous owner because of abuse. From the little I know about how this stuff works, for a dog to actually be removed from a home, the situation must be pretty bad.

When I got him, he was about 7 months old- still a puppy, and just the cutest little thing. All gangly legs. He had been bounced around a little bit already- spent a couple months at the shelter, been adopted a couple times, but then the families never showed up to claim him. I found him on Petfinder.com, and it seriously was love at first sight. I saw that little face and knew he was mine. Even though he was in Pennsylvania, fate intervened: it just so happened that the week I found him on Petfinder, my dad was away on business- about 30 minutes away from Kittanning, PA, the tiny town Mac was in.

Apparently the shelter doesn't usually adopt to people so far away, and they usually don't expedite the process to wrap up in just a couple days. But I was on a mission and made it happen.

When Mac arrived, he was a mess. He wasn't housebroken, as the shelter had told me. And, more upsetting, he was pretty aggressive. He attacked often and without provocation. It was really scary. But in between his outbursts, I could see his spunky little personality and his eagerness to please- it was like he really wanted to be a good dog, he just didn't know how.

To make a longggg story short, I ended up working with a really great dog trainer who showed me how to handle Mac. After months of private lessons, Mac graduated.

Fast forward ten years, and here we are. I can't imagine my life without him. He is feisty, funny, smart and loyal. He can be such a pain in the behind...but he has more personality than any dog I've ever seen. One day I tried counting how many words he recognizes, and I got to over 200. I call him "the Einstein of canines."

I'm convinced he overcame all his early obstacles because he has such a big heart. Ironically, that turned out to be true not just figuratively, but literally too: a couple weeks ago we learned that Mac has congestive heart failure. He has always had a heart murmur, and a couple years ago it started getting worse. The day he was diagnosed as having pre-congestive heart failure I started him on medication as well as a prescription diet. I know that I've done everything I can to slow the progression, that this really sucks, and there's not a whole lot that can be done. I really, really hope that the same indomitable spirit that has gotten him through everything else will somehow get him through this. I'm praying for a miracle.

I know he's a dog, and a nearly 11-year old one at that. I know that in the scheme of world problems, this is nothing. But I love that damn dog more than anything in the world.

Tomorrow I'm taking him for blood work to see how he's tolerating a new medication. It's a diuretic to help with the fluid around his heart, but his vet has to make sure his other organs can tolerate it.

One blessing has been Mac's wonderful vet- she is amazing. It makes me feel better to know he's getting such great care. She's not big on giving a prognosis in terms of time, but she did say a best case scenario could be as much as a couple years. Here's hoping!!!



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Sunday, September 25, 2011

Book club pick

I belong to a book club. It's actually more of a drinking club that reads. Or sort of reads.

It's kind of a motley group of women: I'm the youngest by about 20 years. The next youngest is the former press secretary for an elected official. Then there's a music teacher, a teacher at a fancy private school, a retired psychiatric nurse, and a former coworker, aka my "Jewish mom." She's also the ringleader of the group. We meet at her house every time. Everyone brings snacks, and she makes pitchers of cosmopolitans. We meet monthly, and when we discuss the latest book we're always careful not to give away the ending, because it always ends up that someone hasn't finished the book. (Usually we're in varying degrees of completion.)

We talk about the books a little bit, but mostly we talk about stuff. Whatever's going on in the world, in local politics, in our lives. And we knock back a few cosmos in the process.

We've read a few really good books (and a few not so good books) but the latest is one of my favorites so far.







Obviously I liked it right off the bat. The main character is named Emily, has blond hair and blue eyes and a dog. What's not to like so far? The dog's name is Einstein, which also tugged at a nerve for me - I joke that Mac is the "Einstein of canines."

I'm not good at summarizing a book in a few sentences, so I'm not even going to try. I will say, however, that I couldn't put it down. In fact, I even stayed in Saturday night to finish it- I more or less read it in one sitting (with a few breaks for house stuff), which is what I do when I really like a book.

And, I think I have a new favorite author. (I have many favorite authors, but she's working her way onto the list!) I've already downloaded another book by the author, but I'm not starting it just yet- if it's as good as the last, I want to give myself enough time to read the whole thing!

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B-day recap

Even though I'm not thrilled about getting older, this was definitely one of the best birthdays yet. Nothing crazy, just a solidly great day. I had lots of birthday greetings on Facebook, and since I'm a total fb nerd, it made my day.

It didn't hurt that my day got off to a particularly fabulous start- I left the house and found this on my car:




It was so pretty, I didn't even want to open it! Don't worry though, I did- it was a Tory Burch makeup bag! The gift was a surprise from one of my boos. (I don't have a boyfriend; I have the "boo list." More on that another time.) I was so excited- not just about the gift, but the thought that went into it! The same guy also texted me at exactly midnight to wish me happy bday. He definitely scored major points.

I capped off the evening with dinner and cake at my parents' house. My grandparents came too. I'm super close to them and am so thankful that they live close enough that we're able to see each other a lot.

And of course Mac isn't one to miss a party:




After he ate his own dinner (specially cooked for him by my parents!) he positioned himself under the table to snag any fallen scraps. Here he is eating ice cream that my mom is giving him- I swear, they treat him more like a toddler than a dog! Wonder where they get it from...

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Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Older, definitely. Wiser? Maybe.

It's my birthday this week. Tomorrow, actually. Back in the day, before I got a house, I used to buy myself bday gifts. Like a Coach or Gucci bag I'd had my eye on, a shopping spree at Sephora...you get the picture. This year? A toaster oven. my, how things have changed. If I'm really feeling wild I may also get a new microwave. (Not sure about that...I have one, it's just lousy. The toaster was actually a wise investment as it uses less energy than my clunky, ancient stove.)

To add insult to injury, someone at work gave me a brochure for a singles' group. I know she meant to be nice, and at first I was touched by her thoughtfulness. But then I started thinking about it...prior to receiving the brochure, I had ONE conversation with her. Ever. How, in one conversation about our dogs, did she glean that I'm single/spinsterly/lame?? It's not that I'm offended by the gesture- I really do think she was being sweet- I'm more concerned that I'm somehow giving out a vibe of desperation!


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Sunday, September 18, 2011

No more wine before bed

The other night I dreamed that I was going to an ugly sweater party with Gwyneth Paltrow, Jake Gyllenhaal, Maggie Gyllenhaal, and other randoms. Clearly this would never happen- Gwyneth was wearing an uglier sweater than me.


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Sunday, September 11, 2011

Never forget

I can't believe it has been 10 years already.

Like most people old enough to remember 9/11, I have a clear memory of where I was that day. I was working for a non-profit; we'd held a golf tournament the day before, so were all going into the office later than usual that day. I was eating breakfast while watching Good Morning America, so I saw it happening live on tv.

I hadn't been speaking to my parents at the time. We'd had a blowout over some differences of opinion, and it escalated to the point that I had moved out and was staying with my boyfriend in Boston.

I remember the total confusion at first- initially everyone thought it was a terrible accident. Then the second plane hit while I was brushing my teeth, and we all realized it wasn't an accident.

Although I wasn't on speaking terms with my parents, I was checking in enough to know that my dad was flying out that day. His company was headquartered in Pittsburg, so when a plane was missing over PA I nearly lost my mind.

There was such a sense of "what next?" After the towers and Pentagon were hit, it was unclear how many other planes might be hijacked, or what other targets might be attacked.

I desperately tried calling my dad's cell phone- both his phones were going straight to voicemail. Logically, I knew the odds of him being on that plane were slim, but I wasn't thinking very rationally at that point. I was terrified and confused. I called his company headquarters- something I had never done, and haven't done since. His secretary confirmed that he was traveling that day, but she didn't have any information, and they hadn't heard from him.

My story had a much happier ending than many others that day- JP was on an afternoon flight, which ended up being cancelled, since all flights were grounded. But those couple hours of panic left a lasting impression on me. I try not to leave differences unsettled, because you never know what could happen. What broke my heart the most was thinking about the thousands of moms and dads who left their houses that day for a normal day at work, and then never came home. Especially for a non-morning person like me- typically I'm blowing out the door in a frenzy of lateness. I would hate for that to be my family's last memory of me. My takeaway lesson from 9/11 is to try not to sweat the small stuff or to dwell on the negative. What matters most isn't what I don't have, or what could have been- it's what I do have, and I'm grateful. My life is far from perfect- things have NOT turned out the way I've planned, but I'm grateful for every part of it.



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Saturday, September 10, 2011

Hot mess

Slow start today- still recovering from last night! What started out as a quiet night went downhill fast. I had no plans until 5pm, when I made an executive decision to join some colleagues for drinks at our favorite watering hole. One of the guys from work had tickets to the Pawtucket Arts Festival and was looking for someone to join him, so I went. Then I ran into another friend who was volunteering there (selling tickets at the beer tent lol) so WE went out. Then another friend texted me, so went out with him for late night drinks. Whew.

Today I'm going to the Providence Art Festival with a friend and her daughter Fiona. Fi is probably my favorite kid- she is 7 going on 35, but not in an obnoxious or fresh way. She is hilarious and really freakin' smart. After the art festival we're going to Pinkberry, which I'm VERY excited about- I've never been!

The weather is glorious here today, so I'm trying to get my behind in gear. I think I still smell like booze, so it's probably a good idea to shower before hanging out with kids.


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Location:Lounging in bed

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

An open letter to my dog

Dear Mac,

I know that you have separation anxiety. I have learned to live with it. Every time I leave you home alone, I accept the fact that I will be cleaning and mopping the floor upon my return. I understand that, for the most part, this is something you cannot control, and that it is one of the many quirks that make you...you.

However....if you relieve yourself upon one more household item or appliance, I truly believe I will surpass the limits of my patience. Over the past several months, you have urinated and/or defecated upon both a handheld and stand up vacuum cleaner, a floor steam cleaner, a hair dryer, a flat iron, a wicker coffee table, two book cases, a glass tv table, the refrigerator and the stove. Today I discovered that you soiled my portable shredder, as well as a small pile of documents awaiting shredding.

I won't even list the multiple pairs of shoes you have sullied, although it must be noted that the black suede Banana Republic ankle books were particularly painful. It is worth mentioning that it must take some effort to urinate INTO said pair of ankle boots, so I find it difficult to believe that this incident occurred accidentally. You have also urinated into my recycling bin, another feat that requires no small amount of maneuvering. While I am trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, I can't help but believe that there is some ill intent on your part.

You are teetering on the precipice of my good will, Mac. I have just two words for you: canine diapers.

Love,
Me



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Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Mac the wonder dog

I live on the second floor of my house. Mac has a potty routine- when he wants to go out, he goes to the back door and waits.

This morning after he ate his breakfast, he went over the the door. I opened it and he headed out onto the landing of the back stairwell. I told him "if you want to go out, I'll take you, but it's raining." He immediately turned around and went back into the apartment, and refused to go back out.

We just went to pick up my friend Lesley at the bus station downtown. Mac LOVES Lesley- we dropped her off at home, he started getting agitated as soon as we approached her street. By the time we got other house, he was screeching and jumping around the car. I'd like to say this doesn't usually happen, but that wouldn't be true. We actually have a routine with Lesley- Mac gets so upset when she leaves the car, so I have to say my goodbyes before we get to her house. Then I pull up and she gets out as quickly as possible. No lingering, no chatting. Just "ok, bye," then run.

It's pouring out here, so Mac is still refusing to potty outside. After we dropped Lesley off I caught him trying to go in the garage. I stopped him in time, but now I'm concerned- he still hasn't gone and now won't go back outside. I have a bad feeling I'm going to find a surprise in my house.


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Monday, September 5, 2011

Losing it

When I lived with my parents, many mornings I heard chatter from the kitchen downstairs. Knowing that my mom is not a morning person, I once asked my dad who he was talking to. He replied "oh, Mac and I were just talking and laughing." At which point I realized: JP is nuts. Although Mac is an incredibly bright dog.

Fast forward to Friday night: instead of going out after work, I came home because I was tired. Warning sign number one. I stayed in and watched the Joy Behar show (probably warning sign number 2).....and sat with Mac, laughing away. Clearly the apple doesn't fall far from the crazy tree.

Last week after the hurricane, my parents were without power for four days. Meanwhile, here in the 'hood, mine never even flickered. So after a couple power-free days in cowtown, they realized my dad's stockpile of supplies was about to go bad, and I hustled over to clean out the freezers. Yes, multiple freezers. They have the main fridge, a spare fridge in the basement, and a freezer chest in the garage. All packed to the gills. And JP is a huge seafood fan. I am not, but I hate to see good stuff go to waste. I loaded up a big cooler and a couple laundry baskets full - we are talking Omaha steaks and burgers, shrimp, wild salmon, stuffed quahogs....TONS of food. I distributed it amongst my broke friends, and everyone was happy.

Speaking of the hurricane...I spent the day today cleaning up the remainder of debris. I'm actually pretty proud of myself- considering my reformed princess ways, I think I handled that stuff rather well. I borrowed a chainsaw from my parents, but after a little consideration, ended up going with a handsaw. My late great-uncle Marcel (who was extremely handy, unlike me) had a big skill saw, and fairly regularly zipped off bits of fingers. A couple times he even cut off a whole finger (fortunately the digits were able to be reattached. I never asked for more details because I was too horrified). So, I'm a little leery of working with power saws. The handsaw worked fine and I got the job done with only minor injuries- dropped a log on my thumb and cut up my legs on all the branches.

Overall, a bit of a lame weekend....but productive.


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