Saturday, July 26, 2008

And get me a Snausage while you're up...

Riley wishes to convey his appreciation for all the good thoughts and well wishes during his time of need. He came through the operation just fine, but unfortunately the damage to his hip (the surgeon believes it was indeed from being hit by a car before we met) was worse than originally believed. Riley will most likely need another surgery in the near future (he doesn't know about this yet, so please keep it on the down-low) to completely repair the damage.

In the meantime, he is resting comfortably with HGTV and Soapnet on heavy rotation. I'm sure once the Tramadol wears off he will realize the TV is actually behind him.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Big Day

Riley is having surgery today to repair his hip. There will be much whimpering, crying, and huddling in the corner.

Luckily, Riley will be unconscious during this time and won't have to deal with me.

Send good thoughts.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Where Love Resides Pt. 2

Guess what? The pity party is over. I don't need to pinpoint when I was in love in the past, or why it didn't work out, or live with angst over lost opportunities. I don't need to prove to anyone, including myself, that I've had great loves in order to give my life some sort of cinema-inspired purpose. I have love in my life right here and now. True blue unwavering love. This is where love resides. In the face of this sweet, adoring puppy. A puppy I found, or found me, just a few months ago. Who makes me laugh every single day. Who snuggles with me while we watch TV. Who counts on me to take care of him and protect him. And most importantly, and miraculously, who trusts me completely.

I didn't know Riley for the first seven months of his life so I don't know exactly what his childhood story is. I know that the Humane Society brought him up from a shelter in North Carolina just a few days before we met, but they knew nothing about his background. He adamantly refuses to tell me anything about his previous life - which I find very frustrating. There are signs, though, that his life was difficult. When we first met, he was so thin his ribs were showing. He has small scars on his nose that won't seem to heal. He has a large chip in one of his front teeth. He was terrified of certain rooms in my house - especially the ones with tile on the floor (he has since overcome this fear). If he felt he did something wrong, he would literally bow down submissively at my feet and wimper (he has since overcome this as well). But his absolute sweetness, his loving nature, and his silly antics completely won me over.

My biggest concern was the limp I noticed a few days after he came home. At times he would be running perfectly fine, and then suddenly he would pull up his one leg and hobble along. The vet said it was probably just an old injury and gave him some medicine. The limping seemed to get better, but I couldn't help but notice that his hip wasn't quite right. So back we went to the vet for x-rays. When the vet came back with them, she told me that there was one thing she expected to see, and another she didn't.

What she expected to see on the x-ray was that Riley's hip has dysplasia. The vet believes that he was not born with it, but that he was either beaten, hit by a car, or even possibly thrown from a car. I was horrified by this news. I could not, and still can not, believe that someone injured him so badly that his hip actually grew incorrectly. It is beyond my comprehension. His hip will need surgery to repair the damage.

What she did not expect to see was the big white spot on the other leg. What the hell is that, I asked. Please tell me it's not a tumor.

It's not a tumor, she said.

It's a bullet.

Someone shot him when he was just a little puppy.

Someone. Shot. Him.

This dog who runs to everyone he meets with tail wagging - was shot. This dog who sits at my feet waiting for hugs - was abused. This dog who lies on his back on the bed with his head on my shoulder - was mistreated. This dog who allows small children to pull his tail and stick fingers in his nose - was treated cruelly.

He holds no grudges. He feels no self-pity. He loves unconditionally.

He is my inspiration.

And he is where my love resides.

Saturday, July 05, 2008

Where love resides

It's been a lazy day around my house. Riley, who apparently is allergic to pollen, which is the least of his health problems, but that's another post, is currently on steroids - making him listless and lethargic. His lack of energy seems to be contagious as I have divided my day between approximately three activities - watching television, sending messages on Facebook, and attempting the local paper's sudoku puzzle. Damn the sudoku! Curse the sudoku! Fuck you sudoku!

During the television portion of the day, I found myself getting sucked into the requisite Saturday afternoon chick flick. In this case, it was How to Make an American Quilt, which actually goes beyond being a chick flick to being what may be the original vagina monologue. The only thing that saves this movie from being completely vomit inducing is the brief appearances of beautiful men to offset the off-the-charts estrogen levels. But of course, being the sad sap of simp that I am, I found myself welling up at an unexpected turn of phrase in the movie.

The premise of the film - no forget it this will take too long. The quilt being made for Wynona Ryder's character in the film- I don't know her name, if you want to know you can click the link - has a theme: where love resides. Each female character in the film is constructing her own piece of the quilt that represents where love resides to them. One woman creates a garden that reminds her of her recently passed husband, another remembers a man she met in Paris and makes a section with the Eiffel Tower, and still another sews a painter's palette for her artist husband (who has consistently cheated on her since they first married).

And so I started thinking about what my piece would look like if I were part of this quilt.


And I couldn't think of a damn thing. Nothing. Nada. Nyet.

My mind searched and searched and came up empty.

I felt hollow inside, like the wind had been sucked from me. Am I completely loveless? Have I ever really known love? What's wrong with me that I can't think of a place or time in life that represents love?

I've known happiness. My travels across the world were the best time of my life. I even fell in love a few times, or so I thought at the time. Even now, my life is in a truly wonderful place - I have the home I have always dreamed of, a great job, friends, family, and the puppy I have been wanting for so many years. But is there love? Will there ever be?

Maybe - someday - this house will be where my love resides.

Stupid chick flicks.