These two came in a month ago as feral puppies. Which means that they had no human contact before arriving at the SPCA. for the first couple of weeks, as is custom amongst our scared puppies, they hid under or behind the toilet bowl.
They then upgraded to the director's office and slowly came out of their shells to give her their adoration. She went on vacation last week and so they moved into my office. Initially they couldn't work it out and just wanted to go back to her office. Slowly though they gave in to my ministrations (in the form of fishy smelling treats). They have been hiding under my desk and putting up with me cuddling them, but last Friday night I had a break-through.
I was playing hide and seek with them over the half door and they got so involved in the game they forgot I was human and therefore scary. Then I went into the office and they jumped and climbed all over me, tails wagging and eyes smiling.
This week they have been thrilled to see me every morning, even when I don't have treats. Lisa Marie play-bows and snuggles with me and Priscilla jumps up and down and licks me till I am gooey.
It's a very good feeling knowing that an animal who doesn't trust people thinks you are ok.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
It is late evening on an unremarkable Monday and I feel nostalgia filling me up, starting with my toes and working its way as high as my palms resting on the keyboard.
Autumn always leaves me with this feeling of being in between everything. The coolness in the shade and then the warmth of the sun on my back flips me back and forth from remembering to longing.
Something about this weather makes me think of so many fragile memories which are almost intangible in my mind. I was thinking of one night in high school where for some reason we were at school after dark and this boy I liked lent me his coat, it smelled like him and it was warm and too large for me. I felt cocooned in his scent, and elated by the thought that maybe he likes me. My body was so warm while my eyes were chilled by the night air.
I also remember riding our bikes fast down a hill with a best friend, the heat of the day still coming off the tarmac but the wind breezing past my ears was so cold and in front of me I could see the back of her blond head and the goosebumps standing high on my arms.
Later I was standing on Lion's Head with the city beneath me, the sun was just leaving and the shadow of the mountain was cold. I felt beautiful because of the way my future husband was looking at me.
Sitting on a porch playing cards even though our hands were freezing, blowing and sitting on them between rounds, refusing to allow that it was too chilly to be outside in the day any longer. Looking forward to hot apple cider that makes a mess all over the stove and fills the house with the smell of cinnamon.
not sure where this post is going anymore... just musing on spots in time where I felt the same as I do now, warm and chilled at the same time, with a feeling of tickling happiness low in my belly.
Autumn always leaves me with this feeling of being in between everything. The coolness in the shade and then the warmth of the sun on my back flips me back and forth from remembering to longing.
Something about this weather makes me think of so many fragile memories which are almost intangible in my mind. I was thinking of one night in high school where for some reason we were at school after dark and this boy I liked lent me his coat, it smelled like him and it was warm and too large for me. I felt cocooned in his scent, and elated by the thought that maybe he likes me. My body was so warm while my eyes were chilled by the night air.
I also remember riding our bikes fast down a hill with a best friend, the heat of the day still coming off the tarmac but the wind breezing past my ears was so cold and in front of me I could see the back of her blond head and the goosebumps standing high on my arms.
Later I was standing on Lion's Head with the city beneath me, the sun was just leaving and the shadow of the mountain was cold. I felt beautiful because of the way my future husband was looking at me.
Sitting on a porch playing cards even though our hands were freezing, blowing and sitting on them between rounds, refusing to allow that it was too chilly to be outside in the day any longer. Looking forward to hot apple cider that makes a mess all over the stove and fills the house with the smell of cinnamon.
not sure where this post is going anymore... just musing on spots in time where I felt the same as I do now, warm and chilled at the same time, with a feeling of tickling happiness low in my belly.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
get off the roads
I think most of you know the story...
I am 30 and I can't drive. Not, I don't drive, but I can't. I mean I am sure I could get in and make the thing go if I had to and there were no clutch and K were bleeding from his skull and I couldn't get hold of anyone else or a taxi or an ambulance. Nonethelss...no driver's license anyway.
For many years I have been promising to get one. Starting with after I moved back from the UK and at the tender age of 20 I still had to get my Mom to drive me around. Then at uni, if anything had ever happened to my roomies, they would have been in a taxi, and that is not a pretty thought. The list goes on and it is quite long.
Well maybe the story ends now. For the last few months my bus rides have been things of misery instead of joy because I should be studying for the learner's test. Instead of reading whatever juicy novel was lurking in my handbag, I was supposed to be pounding the road signs into my grey matter. I detest having studying hanging over me while I read. So eventually I gave in and left my murder mystery at home and read a little different material.
Then the day came when K basically forced me to go down and actually take the test. I was convinced I would fail, but then at least I would know what to study for. Well blow me down like a dead tree in hurricane season but I passed the dern thing. Now I have no excuse for not getting behind the wheel of a car and endangering the lives of my husband, innocent bystanders and people who can't (*)**!_)%# use their indicators!
I can send text messages to those of you who would like to know when I will be practising in their general area if you'd like to get off the roads or stand by and jeer.
I am 30 and I can't drive. Not, I don't drive, but I can't. I mean I am sure I could get in and make the thing go if I had to and there were no clutch and K were bleeding from his skull and I couldn't get hold of anyone else or a taxi or an ambulance. Nonethelss...no driver's license anyway.
For many years I have been promising to get one. Starting with after I moved back from the UK and at the tender age of 20 I still had to get my Mom to drive me around. Then at uni, if anything had ever happened to my roomies, they would have been in a taxi, and that is not a pretty thought. The list goes on and it is quite long.
Well maybe the story ends now. For the last few months my bus rides have been things of misery instead of joy because I should be studying for the learner's test. Instead of reading whatever juicy novel was lurking in my handbag, I was supposed to be pounding the road signs into my grey matter. I detest having studying hanging over me while I read. So eventually I gave in and left my murder mystery at home and read a little different material.
Then the day came when K basically forced me to go down and actually take the test. I was convinced I would fail, but then at least I would know what to study for. Well blow me down like a dead tree in hurricane season but I passed the dern thing. Now I have no excuse for not getting behind the wheel of a car and endangering the lives of my husband, innocent bystanders and people who can't (*)**!_)%# use their indicators!
I can send text messages to those of you who would like to know when I will be practising in their general area if you'd like to get off the roads or stand by and jeer.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
a little whine and a moan
Yes I know I have been a bad bad blogger. I have not only been inconstant I have been missing for months at a time. And then I posted bad photos. AND NOW I am mostly logging on to complain. Smokers, really, must you?
We passed months of winter bliss in our little house. The windows were shut tight and nothing got in or out. Our warm little haven was perfect. Then summer hit, and as you know it was H.O.T. Every window in the house is open, top and Bottom. We share our little house with someone who lives in our basement. It very quickly became clear that she was a smoker. She smokes before she goes to sleep. She lights up before she showers in the morning. She takes a drag on her way from or to her car. She inhales shallowly while on the phone to her girlfriends in the back yard.
Therein lies the crux of the matter. The back yard. She is not allowed to smoke in the house (thank goodness) and so she stands just outside her door and puffs away. It is so gross. The smoke wafts in through the bathroom window, and is actively spread through the house by the fans in the spare room and in our room. The smell of second hand smoke just makes me feel ill and my lovely clean washing directly under the fan need to be aired.
So WHY don't I just head on down there and say; "hey roomie! Won't you take your bad habit to the bottom of the yard?" SIGH. Because, I am the Queen of Passiva Aggressiva land and K is my King. Instead we just run around the house closing windows and turning fans to point outwards. We are so pathetic, but I must say that I feel better now that I have whinged to you.
thanks.
We passed months of winter bliss in our little house. The windows were shut tight and nothing got in or out. Our warm little haven was perfect. Then summer hit, and as you know it was H.O.T. Every window in the house is open, top and Bottom. We share our little house with someone who lives in our basement. It very quickly became clear that she was a smoker. She smokes before she goes to sleep. She lights up before she showers in the morning. She takes a drag on her way from or to her car. She inhales shallowly while on the phone to her girlfriends in the back yard.
Therein lies the crux of the matter. The back yard. She is not allowed to smoke in the house (thank goodness) and so she stands just outside her door and puffs away. It is so gross. The smoke wafts in through the bathroom window, and is actively spread through the house by the fans in the spare room and in our room. The smell of second hand smoke just makes me feel ill and my lovely clean washing directly under the fan need to be aired.
So WHY don't I just head on down there and say; "hey roomie! Won't you take your bad habit to the bottom of the yard?" SIGH. Because, I am the Queen of Passiva Aggressiva land and K is my King. Instead we just run around the house closing windows and turning fans to point outwards. We are so pathetic, but I must say that I feel better now that I have whinged to you.
thanks.
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