It's just occurring to me now that I didn't even mean for this post to intimate the death of an animal as a theme on this here blog... but it has happened again nonetheless. And speaking of that theme, I do have yet another tale of a squirrel who met an unfortunate end. For another day. I swear I really love animals and I don't think I'm cursed or anything but maybe I should worry a little more about the health and wellbeing of this puppy I've recently acquired - I mean above and beyond the normal concerns about parvovirus and the passing of small rodent bones.
On the other hand, I nurtured Penny for over 15 years. She was a Jack Russell who was honestly perfect if you could forgive the terrible breath. She was cuddly and smart and good with everyone. She had a perfectly masked face with dimples and eyebrows, and markings on the rest of her that were a perfect impression of a cow. She had sensitive armpits and perfect, soft little triangle ears. She died a few years ago but I can still feel her fur and her warmth and weight on my lap.
Now I have Kirby. He is very much not Penny, and that's totally ok. Well, the first week was not ok because his existence in the house just brought up a lot of memories and made me miss Penny more than ever.
Also, six months previously, I had changed jobs, and that was followed by a divorce, which was followed by buying a house and moving. Getting a puppy the week after starting our new co-parenting routine turned out to be just the thing to push me over the edge. I guess when I finally stopped making changes and managing to do lists and it came down to actually just living this new reality... no matter how well I thought I was handling it, my body didn't agree. So I literally panicked. That's a panic disorder for you - my body was like, "hey, I'm not sure what you think you're doing continuing to add stressors, so let's try being afraid and feeling terrible all the time." And so the first week Kirby was home was just wave after wave of panic.
Great news though: I'm better now. Kirby has been home for over three weeks and we are learning more about each other every day. I do compare him to Penny because she was perfect, and I know that he will grow to be perfect in my eyes too. Different, but just as much mine.
Kirby is feisty and independent, but really wants to please you too. He's smart enough to learn how to sit in less than a day, but willful enough to completely ignore you when he wants. He is 15 pounds of soft red fluff, and growing fast. His feet sound like hooves clopping around the house. His eyes are a ridiculous blue with one hazel section, and his tail is the absolute cutest.
Anyway, I took the day off yesterday because it was my birthday, and I decided to spend some time writing. I don't make time to do it often so it's kind of a treat. And the following poem is what happened. It's a poem about puppyhood. Sing it to the tune of a certain song from a certain film about WWII politics in Austria if you'd like, or not.
Puppy's Favorite Things
Peeing in the house and chewing on fingers
Dingleberries in my hair when they linger
Can't wait til I'm old enough for dog parks -
I bet they're as fun as eating tree bark!
Pulling on my leash and going on walkies
All down the block I do startsies and stopsies
Leaves in the wind make me so very pleased -
Let me go so I can run in the street!
When I'm napping
When I'm quiet
When I'm laying down...
I simply am resting up for my next romp
So I can run you around!
(key change)
Running away with things I find near the floor
Paper or garbage or chargers and lots more
Digging in mud then tromping through the house
Sniffing through bushes til I find a mouse!
Barking at people to give me attention
Jumping and humping them is my convention
Gnawing on furniture, what can I say?
Telling me "no" means you love how I play!
When the night comes
When you're tired
I don't want to sleep...
I simply remind you with zoomies and whines:
You bought me but you're my keep!
