While my last installment took a very serious tone, that's not normally how I am, nor how my writing usually is. So in getting back to the crazy stuff I deal with day-in and day-out, it's time I introduce the new male in my life, who is snoring next to me at this very moment on the love seat, just as loud as he snores all night.
(At this point, some of my friends who worry about me and my single status are going, "What?! Hallelujah! What's his name??!! When can we meet him? Oh, we told you there was one out there for you!!")
Hold your horses, people. Yes, his snoring keeps me up at night, and I adore him to no end, but he walks on 4 legs, not 2.
The new male in my life is Obi, the Pug:
Come on, this can't be a surprise. You know I always say I can trust giving my heart to the 4 legged guys much easier than overcoming the caution I have with the 2-legged ones. You never have to wonder how the 4 legged ones feel about you. They just come up and slobber all over your face, and that's much easier to figure out.
I've actually carried a torch for Obi from the moment I first met him 6 years ago. I found him for my nephew, Cody, who was 12 years old at the time. My friend, Kay, happens to breed and show fabulous Pugs, and Obi is the son of one of her dogs.
We didn't know it at the time, but Cody soon developed an allergy to dogs with coats like a Pug's. The Norwegian Elkhound coat doesn't bother him at all, but it's a very different type of coat. While Obi loved Cody, he equally loved Cody's Mom, my sister Tami, so the fact that Cody couldn't nuzzle and wrestle with him, didn't really bother him that much.
As Cody grew up, his desire to have his own Elkhound grew as well, and a year and a half ago, the opportunity presented itself for me to buy a very nice male Elkhound puppy to show. It ended up that Cody and I decided to co-own the dog, now known as Espen, and that he would live with Cody and be his dog, and then I would show him.
Cody and Espen have this amazing bond.....a bond that did NOT sit well with Obi. He did a, "What is THIS?!! What am I?--Chopped liver?!"
It was actually quite cute when Espen first arrived, because for a very small period of time, he was actually a bit shorter than Obi, and during that period, all was well. Obi did the old, "Here kid, I'll show you the ropes" and Espen willingly followed along, all wide-eyed puppy. But in no time, he was taller than Obi, and Espen has this very confident, arrogant swagger about him (no doubt taught to him BY Obi) that you just knew would likely not mix well, if Obi countered with his own arrogant swagger. Espen meant well, and genuinely loved to play with Obi, but by now, Obi had a jealous chip on his shoulder and was ready to lash out.
In recent months, his jealously of Espen was getting more intense, and Espen would put up with a lot from Obi, literally turning the other cheek to ignore Obi, but at times Obi would get nasty enough to where Espen would have enough and lash out. Our fear was that something could happen and we knew the one who would come out on the short end was Obi.
Oddly enough, Obi has no issues with my Elkhounds, but then again, it's nothing like the scenario he had where Espen came in to compete for the attention of Cody. When I saw what was happening, I gave it a lot of thought, and finally said, "Why don't we see how Obi would do at my place with my dogs."
So, about a month ago, Obi packed his crate, his "blankies", and this toys, and joined my crew. Thankfully, he fit in beautifully from day one. Now, don't get me wrong, he still believes he's a bad-ass, but no one else does. Saber, who is almost 10, and the "Lead Dog," gives Obi a look that says, "Really??! Are you serious? Please!" and turns his back on him, and Obi has truly figured it out, and basically gives Saber a wide path. He's much the same with Paige, and with old Miniature Poodle, Savannah, he actually likes to sleep beside her on the couch. The one he does push around, and the one who lets him...for now...is 1 year old, Aksel. He does a, "Sure, whatever you say, Obi!" As long as Aksel can swallow his pride and keep doing that, they'll get along just fine. Time will tell, and I'm sure I'll have to keep my eye on the two of them, but they're getting along fine now.
Me? I love, love, LOVE the dog. I almost feel guilty about it. Like I said, I've always adored him, so I was truly giddy when I got to bring him home, and in all honesty, I think he's happier. The situation with Cody having a new dog in his life really was a hard thing for Obi to handle with how obsessed he was with Cody, and he doesn't have to struggle with anything like that now. He knows his place in the gang at my house.
That place is usually next to me each evening, snoring....LOUDLY.
Rest assured, everybody: There's still room for a 2-legged male to loudly snore next to me.
I think Obi will move over and make room.
Supposedly, the more days you walk this earth, the more wisdom you acquire. So far in my life, I would say that's true. You start to see things, patterns, etc., to where you go, "Oh, I know how this is going to go down." You try to warn and protect those who are younger, hoping you're going to save them, but then you see that youthful look of doubt, and you just grin to yourself, and realize it's not something you can tell them, but something they're just going to have to learn for themselves.
Yet, at the same time that think I'm becoming a wise old broad, there are still those things that happen that drive a point home, yet again, and I think, "Dang, when will I get to where I remember this? When will I learn?" That moment hit me last night.
I found out yesterday that the husband of one of my sister's friends drowned on Sunday. My Mom called me and asked if I had heard the story on the news and realized who it was. I told her no, I hadn't heard. When she told me, there was that moment where everything just paused, and I thought, "No...that can't be. That's just not right."
Michael was 45 years old, and in top shape. He even taught a fitness class at a nearby health club in his spare time. He had his boat anchored off-shore and was swimming out to it. His friends said he took off, and the next thing they knew he was floating motionless in the water, between the shore and the boat. They got to him, administered CPR, as did the rescue crew that arrived shortly, but they couldn't revive him.
My first question was whether his wife, Amy, and their daughter, Stevie, who I think is about 12 years old, were there when it happened. At that point my Mom said my sister didn't know and we both said we certainly hoped they weren't. That was just too horrible to think about.
I had to deal with work, so I didn't dwell on it at that moment, I had to file it away for the time being, but it gnawed at me all day long.
I had a dog club meeting I had to be at last evening and it wasn't until the drive home, when I was by myself in the car in the dark, without the radio on, that I really started to think about it. It was a long drive home.
I hadn't been around Michael a lot, but I remembered that when I had been, I really liked him. I clearly remembered when I first met him. Stevie was very young and he had taken her to this great toy store on Main Street. She was named after Michael and Amy's favorite singer, Stevie Nicks, and she has this head of wild blonde naturally curly hair, kind of like how Stevie Nicks' hair used to look. I don't remember how it all went down, if I was with my sister or my Mom, but I just remember we suddenly realized the cute little girl with the curly hair playing with the toys was Stevie, then we spotted Michael and I was introduced to him. He was really friendly and outgoing and I recall genuinely liking him immediately. He worked for a business at the airport next to the studios of the radio station where I was working, and we talked about some people we both knew around the airport as a result of that.
I chuckled recalling how Michael used to sneak Stevie out to eat fast-food burgers because, for a time, Amy decided she wanted to be a vegetarian, but Michael would say he didn't want Stevie to miss out on the joys of a burger. Amy is a Physical Therapist, and she worked odd hours now and then, which gave Michael lots of time with Stevie, so that's when he would sneak her out for their burger runs without Mom knowing.
The more I thought about those things, the more I thought about Stevie and Amy last night on my drive home, trying to imagine what they were going through, losing Michael so suddenly, and hoping above everything, that Stevie wasn't standing on that beach Sunday afternoon.
My Mom told me today that Amy had finally talked to my sister. Thankfully, she and Stevie weren't there when it happened. In another of those cruel twists of fate in life, Michael had just finished writing his thesis for his degree in Psychology and Saturday he had taken it to be bound. She said he was so excited to have it done that they had a little celebration with friends Saturday night. On Sunday, it was such a warm day, that Michael wanted to take the boat out, but Amy said she didn't want to go, and that she and Stevie had other things to do to get ready for school. As a result, Michael said he would go teach his class at the health club, and then he and some friends were going to take the boat to the island.
Amy said the friends all told her when Michael took off swimming, it was with good, strong strokes, headed right for the boat, and the next thing they knew, he was floating in the water. The medical examiner told Amy he had a large abrasion on his head, and upon seeing that, they looked up the time the tide changed on Sunday. Sure enough, the tide had changed at the time he was swimming out to the boat. Their conclusion is that when the tide shifted, it kicked up some form of debris, a tree limb or something even bigger, that hit Michael in the head. It was either the blow that killed him, or it knocked him unconscious, resulting in him drowning, which explains why it happened so suddenly.
When I heard that today, and then hung up the phone, I had this moment where I just paused to absorb it. One minute Michael was there and perfectly fine. The next minute, he was gone. Yet another cruel twist of fate and timing. Had he went in a tad bit earlier, or a tad bit later, the outcome might have been very different and he would have made it to the boat just fine. But it didn't happen that way. Just like that, it was over.
It struck me as being something so fast, that it equated to somebody just walking out of the house into the garage, and yet they never walk back in a few minutes later like you thought they would. Instantly, they're gone.
The profound sadness of this has just really hit me. I can't stop thinking of Stevie and Amy. I wonder if it's really hit them. But more than anything, referring to what I said earlier about wondering when I would learn certain lessons and have more wisdom on some things, it drives home the point to me, yet again, that you can't waste time, and you can't put off things. I keep thinking about how much of the time I spend thinking of what's ahead down the road, planning and preparing, or how many times I say, or I hear somebody else say, "I can't take time for that in my life now. I have to get these other things taken care of and all in order, THEN, I can do that." Yeah, well, maybe......but maybe not.
My sister said that Amy told her Stevie has been taking a Tai Kwon Do class and she's scheduled to take her test for her next belt on Friday. Her instructor came to the house yesterday to see her and told her it was up to her to decide what she wanted to do, but it was understandable if she didn't want to try for it. But Stevie said, "No Mom. I'm going to class this week and then I'm taking my test Friday." Amy said she thought, "More power to you, Girl!" and was very proud of her.
She's clearly a tough kid. Maybe it's all those burgers she ate on those clandestine burger runs with her Dad.
Lesson learned: Sometimes the best thing you can do is just eat the burger when you have the chance.
In the final hours of September 5, I'm realizing I'm 5 days behind on my New Year's resolution to write my blog more frequently. "New Year's Resolution?" you say, with a question in your voice (you ARE saying it with a question in your voice, aren't you?)
Yes, in the "World According To Lisa," I look at your birthday as being your REAL "new" year and my birthday is in mid-August, so it always gets me thinking about what I'm going to do differently in the next year. Add to that the fact that I've never really moved past the idea of September being the start of a new year, going back to my school days, and you end up with me always with the feeling that things have a fresh start in September.
My friend, Chloe, has to write a blog as part of her job, and her latest installment talks about how she's really good at procrastinating in 3 areas: Calling her Mother, cleaning her house, and writing her blog. When I read that, I laughed out loud as I'm right there with her on two of those. Now me, I talk to my Mom nearly every day, so I can't join her on that one, but absolutely, I procrastinate on cleaning the house, and well, when you consider that I last wrote on May 31, you know I also have "Blog Commitment" issues as well. Wouldn't you think that if we're not cleaning the house we should then clearly have time to write? Wouldn't those go hand-in-hand? You would think so, but I've not found that to be the case.
So, Chloe has made the same vow I have and that is to write frequently enough so that when we DO write, it's not about how long it's been since we last wrote.
Oh yeah, and I've also resolved to not put off the house-cleaning either. Imagine that: I have a fully cleaned house AND I'm writing regularly. That's a hard concept to grasp. Maybe I'll just end up writing about what part of the house I just cleaned. Riveting, huh?
I've also made a resolution to fold and put away the laundry, to stop saving so many boxes all in the theory that one might be the "perfect" box for something next week (fell off the wagon on that one awhile ago,) and it seems like I made some other resolutions but they escape me at the moment.
See, if I had been writing about them, I would probably remember them!
