Saturday, April 30, 2011

Being Where I Am...With My Puggi



I have a little pug puppy. I like to say I "rescued" him because he came from a pet shop. He was there until he was almost five months old. How sad. Bella wanted a little chihuahua or small dog, and I just couldn't say no to this one. He was already nearly full grown. He's been such a good little guy.

I love the moments when he's sort of growing into himself, when he's a good dog who knows what to do. ...that means going potty where he's supposed to without accidents. I really am blessed. I look into his face. He's adorable. He's love. I know because I have a dog I have a lot of love to give, too. I shower my love onto my daughter, my puggi and my lovebird these days.

I think he kind of has a little old man face, too. He loves playing and he also loves napping with me. I loves me a dog who sleeps in the bed with you like a human...yes, Cesar Milan wouldn't be proud of me. Bella and I love our little Mr. Snorzalots!

I see how much I truly appreciate him and feel blessed we brought him home and have kept him so far. Sad to admit it like that. It makes me reflect on when Bella and I were by ourselves down in Miami Beach for a couple years (2007-2009). Loved it there! We tried to have a couple dogs there. I bought a purebread American Bulldog that we named Stellaluna (after the children's book about the fruit bat). We only kept her six months. It's a lot of work to have a puppy!! I could say I didn't have time or money to do the things she needed, but truly, I just wasn't ready to have a dog again. I was still healing from my wounds and unhappiness. We gave her away to someone with a big yard who worked from home. A kind neighbor set this up, along with loving our dog, too.

Of course I wanted another dog, so we took in a dog a friend from the Keys had. Bobo was 68 pounds, scrawny, and had ear problems when we took him up to live on the beach with us. I have so many memories of Bobo. His name was Zorro, but we quickly renamed him. He loved walking with us, was afraid of the water but surfed a little during Tropical Storm Fay in 2008, and just loved us. His medical problems from previous bad owners got to be too much for me. I gave him up to a shelter, I'm very sad to say. More bad advice from my parents I regretted from the bottom of my heart. It's sad when you look back and see all you've lived through. When you take time to reflect on what happened later on because of choices you made or perhaps had to make earlier. I still miss him, just as I miss the dog I had for 18 months when I was pregnant with Bella and with my abusive ex. Truly and honestly, every dog has to fill Little Guy's shoes. And none has.

I love my little pug. He's almost a year old. Ironically, his birthday is the day I met Bella's dad walking down Duval Street in Key West, May 25. He's a little lovepug we say. I am open to the gifts he gives us.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

What Are We So Afraid Of?

Once upon a time there was a fabulous young woman who, it seemed, wasn't afraid of anything. She jetted off to 20 or 21 countries, sometimes by herself. She jumped off cliffs into startlingly cold water. She fell in and out of love with the wrong men. During her second trip to Europe, she and her peer from college had a 'trains, planes and automobiles' kind of a journey to get to Neuschwanstein. He told her there was a rickety bridge spanning a gorge but that you could take intensely beautiful pictures from it of the castle. She took his hand and led him to the middle of the time-honored narrow bridge, all while his eyes were closed to deceive his fear of heights. Another time, she made a new woman friend over the internet. This friend was afraid of heights and yet she was painting the outside of her one story house. This girl went over and climbed right up the ladder like she was going for a run or hopping another plane and painted, getting paint in her hair and laughing with her new friend.

What happened to this fearless woman? Yes, I am still here, in the shell of my body. The big shell. It's not that who I am in my mind and what is physically present is two different things. I have transformed into a less than fabulous person in the last few years. All the while, I try to be okay with where I am. Truly, I never embrace it. Even living seven blocks away from the ocean, I was holding on for dear life with depression peeking it's head out of a packed away box and money troubles kayaking closer and closer towards me. Trying. I am very conscious about not using that word. To me it means it's never going to happen. So just keep trying.

Yes, some things happened. I did not run like hell fast enough from a couple bad relationships I had. The last one scarred me severely. But honestly, that is not who I am any more. I can say that lately I am allowing myself to be shaped by not wanting to live in Minnesota. My words say I embrace the life I am living right now. Yet the actions are not true to those words. I have crutches. Inaction and emotional eating are the favored choices.

Once again, I want to be fearless. I want to every moment be living the courageous life those close to me see. Daily I am surrounded by positive words and other brave souls who are living fully. Living fully in our messes, in the realness of what we truly are. Not perfect. I know I'm not who I want to be right now. I'm perhaps ready to start stepping across the bridge which will lead me back to who I truly am inside. That is, when I tear away all the ineffective barriers I've built up these last few years. Thank goodness for positive words, for my mental clarity, and keeping the belief alive that I am worth this fight, this long, long walk. Perhaps I've already started walking across the bridge. My intentions in my heart are clear. I want to love life again!

Thanks for reading, and thank you for following my blog! What are your fears and what are you doing to walk up to them, bop them swiftly on the nose and then keep going?