Havoc

My heart is breaking for Vestri today. She has lost her cat, whom she loved very much. Many people regard pets as simply a possession or even a nuisance. Some of us, however find them much more appealing and lovable than most people. I wrote this some time ago. Vestri's loss brought back many still unresolved feelings I have about losing Havoc. Thinking about it still makes me cry.

I would have never thought it was possible to have a spiritual connection to a dog, until we got Havoc. I saw him at the pound on three occasions before we adopted him. On the first two trips we looked at other dogs (puppies) that we tried to adopt, but they were already taken by the time we made an offer. He was a year old, a blue-tick coon hound, that was surrendered because he chased cattle. Both times, I paused in front of his cage and we looked into each others eyes. He had soulful eyes that held a wisdom I do not usually associate with dogs. He just seemed to know that we were meant for each other.

When I finally brought him home, he fit so well into our pack. We had two other dogs at the time and were having problems, because puppy Rosco was driving old-man Max crazy. Havoc was the perfect buffer between them. He played wildly with Rosco, but played gently with Max. He asserted himself into the alpha dog position, but Max never knew it. He would play and submit to Max by rolling over. Funny to see...25 pound, 17 year old Max on top of 65 pound, 1 year old Havoc. He was in my house because my son had talked me into another dog (not too hard to do), but he talked himself into my heart all by himself. He came to us housebroken, trained in basic commands, did not chew on things, only took a few days to break him from chasing the cats. He also picked me. I guess we all just want to be loved and he loved me. He would sit by me with his head on my lap, that was when his 65 pound body was not crawling into my lap. He loved the dog park. He had one Rott that he would play tug of war with every time. Neither of them would give up-they would both keep hold of the rope, until they were both laying down (still growling, panting, holding on). He enjoyed life. He enjoyed us.

I used to take him to work on a regular basis. I work in the field of disabilities in an adult workshop. The clients LOVE animals, but are often rough or loud towards them. Although he had never been trained as a therapy dog, he loved to go to work with me. He put up with hugs, shouts, hard pets and an occasional tug. Everyone knew him and he grinned ear to ear (see his picture on my page, he really smiled) every time they greeted him. He was totally different there, always calm, able to assess each client and would sit or lay down accordingly. Even clients that had severe mental illness (that were hard for staff to connect with) responded to Havoc.

One day when I got home he was sick. He had thrown up in his crate. I let the dogs out and cleaned up his crate. When I went to let them back in he was going into shock. He was cold and staggering and his gums were blue. I literally dragged his 65 pounds out to the car and took off for the emergency vet (it was after regular vet hours.) He struggled to try and get up the entire trip, I think he went into cardiac arrest as we pulled in. I watched as they took him back and began cpr. They worked on him for 40 minutes, I did not want them to give up. They intubated him, started a mainline, and tried shocking a heart rhythm back twice with no luck. The vet finally told me I had to let him go. They cleaned him up, put him in a box and allowed me to take him home. The vet determined after he was gone that he died from an intestinal torsion. My vet assured me that there really was nothing that could have been done, this is almost always fatal, as they go into shock so quickly.

I cried all the way home, my son and I lay next to him in the front yard, holding him and crying. We buried him that night under the fire pit (he always loved the fires). It occurred to me as we were digging a huge hole in the dark, by flashlight, that the neighbors may think we were burying a person.

His death was as hard for me to deal with as the death of any person (maybe worse). I was depressed for months. I still miss him and I still cry (and I don't cry easily). We had 3 other dogs at the time and we got a new puppy last February. Dakota is now 7 months old and 65 pounds. I love all the dogs, but have never felt a strong of a connection as I did with him. He always seemed to know what I was thinking, knew when I was upset, he knew how to comfort me. For those of you who have never loved an animal, I do not expect you to understand. You may even think that I am silly or a bit crazy to be affected this way. I cannot explain it to you, I do not really understand myself. I was surprised at my emotions too. I would love to have another coon hound, but I know that I cannot replace him. I also believe that it was fate (or God, or whatever you believe in) that we were together. I would not change the time I had him to spare the pain I felt over him.

Sometimes when I see what is happening all over the world, I think that it is silly to feel such grief over a dog, but we all need to start somewhere, compassion seems to be at a low ebb these days.

Post script: It has been several years since I lost Havoc, it still hurts. Since then, we lost Max this year, at the ripe old age of 20. That loss was sad, but not the same. Dakota is now over a year old and 100 pounds. He is a beautiful dog and reminds me of Havoc in some ways. Still, I do not love him as deeply. We have also gained a Pitt Bull into our pack. Brigs is a little over a year old and is a sweetie. We also have one elderly cat, Cybil, who rules the roost. I may complain about the dirt, the hair and the cost of our pets, but I love them dearly. I prefer them to many humans. I also know that I will probably outlive everyone of them, sadly, and I will cry over every loss. I no longer think it is silly to grieve that much over an animal, I believe that they have the ability to teach us love and compassion.

procrastination

I am a master procrastinator, this week I have elevated it to an art form. I have a ton of homework and a to-do list as long as my arm. What have I been primarily doing? Everything else. I have done a lot of blog reading and tackled some housework, that really did need to be done, but didn't shorten my list one bit. I have been ultra-productive at work, trying to fight my lousy attitude and justify the fact I can rightfully bitch about my co-workers. However, that has left me tired and wanting some down time when I get home. I think that my being tired is what has led me to shun the homework. I find that I can do mindless tasks, but I have not been up to any sort of concentration. Yet, I have been going to bed, on average, at 2:00 am. This is due to the fact that about 10:00 or so, I realize that I have not done what I should have been doing and I try and catch up, while trying to stay awake. Thank God for coffee, cigarettes, and vitamin B12. I am not too concerned, as it is only Tuesday and I don't have school until Saturday, but I also owe my professors some e-mails which I should have sent yesterday. I would love to take a week and catch up on everything, except, I know I wouldn't.

My mood is not as pissy as it was, but I find myself concerned about too many things. Most of them beyond my control. I spoke with Mom last week, each time I talk to her, she sounds more like my crazy sister. Part of this is because she is 87 years old and part of this is because she talks to my crazy sister about 4 times a week. The influence is disheartening, neither my mother or my crazy sister have spent much time in the workforce or the real world, neither of them have ever had to worry about money in any real sense, yet both of them think they have a clear handle on life as I know it. My fun sister called me today, only she was not so fun. She lives with my mother and has to vent occasionally, even though I am too far away to help. She began by telling me that Mom and crazy sister were discussing me this weekend and if I get a call from either one of them to please just disregard. Actually, she told me to feel free to tell crazy sister to fuck off. My brother had the right idea, when he moved to the other side of the country from the rest of his disfunctional DNA.

Tonight, I am not Mary Ann or Ginger, but Mom and crazy sister are Lovey Howell.

pissy

I am tired of pissy people. The problem is I am pissy too. We have lost a contract at work, there are rumors of lay-offs and people are worried. I understand that, but don't use that as an excuse to slack off. I have been there too long, maybe I am burnt out. I am not tired of the job duties, but of all the other bullshit that occurs. My supervisor hates confrontation, she wants everyone to be happy, to work together, but she wants to ignore the problems. Teamwork is a word I hear over and over. "Work together, we'll get through this." I think I want another team; I want to be traded. No, I want to be a free-agent, I want to only look out for myself.

I can tell myself it is other people, I can claim it is the situation at work, but I would be lying, it is me. It extends beyond work, I look at my sons and I think: "Who raised you!" Sadly, that would be me. I am a single mom, their fathers were absent. I can blame their gender, their fathers' gene pool, society, their peers, but ultimately, it comes back to me.

I am Mary Ann, stranded on this damn island. I am surrounded by buffoons, trying to fix the radio with coconuts. I have tried being cheery, supportive and upbeat, but now I just want off the island. I want to escape, to run-away for a few days. No time clock, no kids, no pets. Oh wait....in one week, I do get off the island for two days. Nice hotel, stimulating company, maid service. Maybe I'll be Ginger for a change.

the throne

For about the last month, the cat has decided to make her throne on the, well er, throne. She has taken up the habit of sleeping on the toilet. I am one of those people who insist on not only having the seat returned to the down position, but the lid as well. Being a single mother and not having to contend with another adult authority in the house (of the male persuasion), I was able to effectively train my sons to put down both the seat and lid. Lately though, this has backfired on me, by having to remove the cat, as well as raise the lid, whenever I want to use the toilet.

There are times when this is not convenient. Such times are in the middle of the night, when I stumble in the dark to go to the bathroom, or coming in from the cold, when I am in a bit of a hurry. My inconvenience does not matter to the cat, she does not remove herself on her own. I tell her to get down, she just looks at me and plaintively meows. Of course, she continues her mewing complaint until I remove myself from her throne. This is not the first time I have been trained by a cat. We used to have a cat, who had me trained to turn on the water in the sink every time I was in the bathroom, so she could get a drink. No ordinary water bowl for her.

I will admit, that my dogs are far from obedient. They sometimes lack basic ettiquette skills, they jump on guests, they slobber, they climb in my lap at inopportune times, they chew up the mail. But, overall, they know who is in charge (me) and they NEVER sleep on the toilet. Despite not having claws, the cat has also managed to train the dogs to leave her alone, save an occasional sniff. So, the truth be told the cat is in charge. Perhaps I should change the name of the blog to "Life in the cat's house."

school

I have returned to school, after taking two quarters off, due to finances and transportation. I love school, but not as much as before. I attend Antioch Mcgregor, it is a a part of the Antioch University network. Antioch College is closing, despite heroic efforts of alums to keep it open. Negotiations between the alum group and the Board of Regents have stalled. My division of the university has moved, from the old, historic, beautiful campus to their new, sterile, strip mall facility. I am not feeling the love. Yes, the new building is state of the art, but it has no personality. I miss the old campus, I even miss the heating and air problems, the outdated bathrooms, and the lack of technology. I miss the close access of Yellow Springs, I know the new building is close, but I can't walk into town at lunch.

When I was on the old campus, I felt connected to every other student who had been there. From 1852 on, this college has turned out independent original thinkers, it has marched to its own drummer, it is inspiring. Now it is lost. This is not the first time Antioch has encountered financial ills, in the past, generous alums have always bailed them out. It is a jewel, a rare gem, but it is also a venue for a different type of student. The Antioch community has always embraced the alternative. Lifestyles, philosophies, politics, religions - all were respected and nurtured here. Rote learning does not exist at Antioch, it teaches critical thought. Find your own knowledge, map your own path, but know you have thought it through and you can defend your own knowledge.

My time here has taught me to dissect and examine information that is presented. I have learned to consider and be open to all kinds of ideas and philosophies. Even those I do not agree with, I now have understanding of. However, there is a new trend, less Humanities majors, more Management majors. Less open and spirited discussion, more acceptance of mainstream ideas. I am not as pissed off about this as I was, without the new building, even this division of the whole would not remain. I am still surrounded by many of the old guard, people who have have opened my mind and made me think until my brain hurts. But the mix is changing, more of the new is appearing. The push for online technology, register, email, submit, all through the university system online. Less personal interaction, less of discussions and debates continuing well after class, less initiative. More students that are in quest of that piece of paper than of real learning.

I miss the trees, the art work, the architecture, the ghosts of past Antiochians. I miss the glen being across the street, I miss people taking the stairs instead of the elevators, I miss the accessibility, the dissonance of ideas. I feel like the changes that are occurring, the updates, the marketing are akin to the emperor's new clothes. I know I am not the only one who sees he is naked.

The house has gone to the dogs

The weather so far this year has been a bit extreme. After several snows, we then faced a blizzard and then torrential rains and floods. I am the lucky owner of four dogs, ranging from 45 pounds to 100 pounds. I also am blessed to own a 30 year old house, with original everything, from the roof to the furnace. This year I will have to sell my soul in order to do about $20,000 in renovations, before the house collapses around me.

The backyard currently is a grassless swamp, I am not sure how to grow grass in a yard where 16 paws regularly run, wrestle, and dig. I do, however know how to mop up mud. Mud is tracked in daily, I do sweep and mop, but it is always present. When the mud dries, it converts to dust, which is stirred and deposited on everything. All of my windows have paw and nose prints. The corner of the couch has been gnawed. The only room that is safe, is my bedroom, as the dogs have been exiled from there.

I sometimes fantasize about a dog-free house, but they are in reality my children, only they will never grow up and get their own place. It was never my plan to house four dogs. It just happened. We had one dog, Max, who lived 21 years before we had to euthanize him. When he turned 18, I did not believe he had more than another year in him and allowed my son to get a puppy. Max hated Rosco! We added another dog from the pound to serve as a buffer. And then I found a dog at the rest area on the way home from Florida. When we lost one dog due to an intestinal torsion, my boss happened to have a litter of puppies. Then this year, after Max died, I was asked to foster a dog for one month. It is now three months later. The problem is, I am a sucker for a cold wet nose and furry feet and everyone knows it. (Just for the record, I tend to prefer the opposite of that in men.) I am the first person someone talks to when they have to find a home for a dog. I try not to listen now, I am at my limit, on space and on money. They go through 40 pounds of dog food a week with no problem. Dog licenses cost me $70 and though my vet tries to be kind, I do not even want to add up her bills.

What do I get in return for my canine generousity? Dog hair and paw prints on every outfit I wear, no matter how quickly I make it out the door. One hundred pounds of dog on my lap, as I try to type my homework. Pure and unconditional love times four. What more could I want!

Why dogs are better than kids

Dogs are always excited to see you.

Dogs don’t ask for money or the car keys.

It only costs about $100 to send your dog to school.

Dogs are never embarrassed to be seen in your company.

Dogs feel guilty when they do something wrong.

People will view you as a responsible “parent” if you neuter your dog.

You can potty train a dog in a month.

You are never too young or too old to have a dog.

You can put your dog in a crate, instead of hiring a babysitter.

Dogs always want to spend time with you.

Dogs will never complain about you to their friends.

Dogs would love to eat anything that you’ve cooked.

No one gives you dirty looks when you walk your dog on a leash.

People don’t judge you if your dog is not smart, athletic, good looking.

You can chose all of your dog’s friends.

Why another blog?

I am an almost fifty, single mother/grandmother, who lives with one cat and four dogs. I also post here about sex, submission and a D/s relationship. As I am nearing a half of century, I decided I have much more to say about many things. That is the reason for this blog. I will try to post as often as possible, but between a full-time job, family obligations, attending school, and my submissive self, I may only show up when life pisses me off. Of course, that is fairly often.