KUMA, MY WONDER DOG, IS THREE TODAY!!!

 

          

Today is Kuma’s third birthday. I can’t believe he’s been my most treasured companion for three whole years…excepting the first three months when he was with his mom. I still cannot fathom how lucky I was to spot his precious face on Facebook at a time when I was feeling so lonely and depressed. Kuma changed my life in so many ways and has brought me so much joy.

          I love how he is so enthusiastic about coming with me in the car. Every morning when I’m getting ready, he shows up in the bathroom just at the moment I’m donning my pants (how does he know???). He looks at me as though he’s trying desperately to hypnotize me into allowing him to go with me wherever I’m going. Unfortunately, when it’s sunny, he has to stay home because the car gets too hot if I cannot find shade in which to park.

When Kuma does get to go, he loves sticking his head out the window. I’m fine with that except when he puts his paws on the door in order to stick his head out even further. Even though I don’t roll the window down far enough for him to actually fall out, it still gives me pause…kind of like when the kids did stuff that was safe but with the potential for injury.

         Kuma follows me from room to room, often stepping on the back of my flip-flop. He wants to be exactly wherever I am, and I don’t mind one little bit. If I’m on the couch reading or watching television, he’s right there beside me. My favorite thing though is how he manages to lay right up against me in bed. He may not be there when I fall asleep, but as I begin to drift up from the depths, my first thought is that it is John cuddling me. I love that, even though there’s just a teensy bit of sorrow in my heart when I wake enough to realize it’s my puppy Kuma.

          Today, I prepared his lunch and allowed him to sit at the table. It didn’t take long for that soft dogfood (filet mignon flavor) to disappear into his tummy. Then, I gave Kuma his gift. I’d wrapped up a rather large stuffy with two rubber squeaky toys. It didn’t take long for him to get inside the wrapper (I videoed and posted the videos and photos to Facebook.) and pull out the plush. That largish toy stayed together for only three (3) minutes and was totally disemboweled in six (6).

I just now took his “Pawp Corn” squeaky toy away because he'd chewed off a corner to get the squeaker. He‘s moved on to the “I’m just here for the fries.” squeaky toy and I assume I’ll be tossing that one in the very near future. I’m seriously hoping he doesn’t ingest enough of his presents to require a trip to the vet.

          Yep, in less than the time it took me to type the paragraph above, the fries toy had to be sent to the garbage. But, since it’s Kuma’s birthday, I gave him a “Pork Earz” because he can chew that up and swallow without it doing him any harm. Kuma also usually gets a frozen bone when I have my tot of gin in the late afternoon and I’m wondering if I should do that today or not.

          Never in my entire life, at least until three years ago, did I ever think I could love an animal as much as I love Kuma. True, we always had dogs, but they were more John’s dogs than mine, so I never felt totally invested. With Kuma, I’m his ONLY person and he’s my ONLY doggie, so I cannot express exactly just how much joy and love he provides.

          There are only a couple of things I’d like to change or improve. I keep working to get Kuma to not jump up on people when they come to visit. He gets so excited, makes love barks and growls and just has to jump up. I’d also like to be able to take him for a walk on a leash and not have him lose his shit when he sees another dog. I simply cannot control him when he gets like that, so we don’t walk. As for having him bark at other dogs when in the car or in the front window, I think (hope) we almost have that under control. Kuma still makes noise, but it’s not the, “I’m going to rip out your throat.” barking he was doing. Time and patience…that’s all it takes, right?

          I’ve been told that once this dog breed reaches the age of three, they tend to mellow out and be less jumpy and barky. Touch back in a year when Kuma turns four and I’ll let you know.

          Anyway, this is Kuma’s day, so I need to go throw the ball, give him pets, sing the birthday song a few more times, and do my best to let him know that while I’m his person, he’s my most favorite doggie…ever!!!!

YAY MOI!!!

          

Well, since this has been a fairly shitty week, I thought I’d just have to give myself a huge pat on the back because I both NEED and DESERVE it.

          For some reason my I-pad decided to stop receiving emails the end of last November which wasn’t really a big deal. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I’m now being included in the monthly NWDA board meeting, all held via zoom. My desktop’s sound stopped working quite some time ago and I’ve never been able to find a fix. So, if I’m going to zoom, I need to have sound unless I can read lips…I cannot.

          When deciding on a remedy, I think I can also do zoom via my phone, but decided since I couldn’t come up with a solution to make email work on my I-pad, I’d make a visit to the Apple store. Almost immediately, a young man offered to assist me, but while he was working with me, he was also being asked to help elsewhere. We finally reached a point where I felt confident in my ability to complete the effort and sent him on his way. I’m sure he could have completed this exercise in half the time (or less) it took me to finally get the email pouring onto the I-pad. Yay for moi.

          Later that same day, I went to look at my email on my desktop, only to be told there was a send/error. Once again, I tried everything I could think of, but could only access my Outlook email if I signed into Xfinity or used my phone or I-pad. Since I type really fast on my keyboard, I NEED to be able to conduct email business at my desk.

          I was so frustrated. I attempted to find the solution Tuesday evening, all day Wednesday and most of the day today. Email on my phone would tell me I needed to “sign-in,” but for some dumb (sure it was smart when I decided to do it) reason, I have a process that requires two authentications and I’d lose the sign-in page while obtaining the authentication. I finally figured out how to do that without losing the sign-in page, but the email still didn’t work.

          Finally, this afternoon, I went online and asked my computer how I could access the SMTP…whatever that is. I followed the instructions provided and, voila, after restarting my computer, my email is up and working.

          So, YAY FOR MOI. You have no idea how badly I needed this positive experience today. 

NOTICE – CRIMINAL TRESPASS WARNING

 

          Last November I blogged about three of my neighbors. This blog will be devoted to just one of those neighbors, the one that called the police while my granddaughter was behind my fence raking weeds back from the fence. This neighbor’s “war” with me has now escalated.

          As I’ve been diligently weeding the back flowerbed that is adjacent the back fence, I’ve been having to pull morning glories and blackberries that are coming through the fence. If I’m not vigilant, the morning glories wind themselves around my plants, and it’s a bitch to get them off. They are also growing up through my flowerbed now. Since they grow so fast, I’m sure that just a few months of being ignored, would allow them to completely claim that back flowerbed and strangle all the good plants there.

          So, thinking that if I texted a very polite request to have my granddaughter come and pull the weeds back from the fence, I would get a positive response, I did so. The neighbor’s response was, “NO”. So, I texted again, saying I didn’t understand why this couldn’t be allowed and asked why this person couldn’t be a good neighbor. No response for a couple of days.

          Then, yesterday, there was a knock on my front door. There stood another Lake Forest Park policeman…perhaps the very one who warned me last fall. According to what he had to say, I had once again trespassed on this neighbor’s property. I told him I had not and offered to show him my back gate and the texts I’d sent. He responded she had shown him the texts. He went on to say he was there to provide me with an, “NOTICE – CRIMINAL TRESPASS WARNING.”

          I was SHOCKED!!! Seriously SHOCKED!!!

          The officer went on to review the contents of the warning document, asked for proof of who I was (I recited my driver’s license number which I know by heart.) and had me sign the warning. It is good for three years and he gave me a copy.

          When I read the document later, it says, “Entering or remaining on said premises after this warning has been duly issued, shall be considered a knowing violation of…and as such, you shall be subject to legal action including ARREST and/or the filing of criminal charges.”

          I am shocked and angered by this neighbor’s actions, and all over the weeds that grow unchecked behind the fence. It also leaves me in a quandary about replacing the fence which will soon be needed. Is it possible to replace the fence without going on her property…I guess the contractor will have to answer that question. And, if it’s even possible, I guess I’ll assume the entire replacement cost.

          Seriously, what has happened to the sense of community, the willingness to be helpful, one neighbor to another, the possibility of discussion about something that negatively affects one neighbor and not another??? I don’t have an answer and guess I’ll just have to view this as another indication of the poisonous venom that’s permeating our society…additional proof of the “trickle down” theory.

          In writing this, I’ve gone from being hugely angry to being simply very sad. Perhaps it’s a good thing I’m as old as I am because it means I won’t have to endure many more of these “trickle down” societal elements. Seems like life and people used to be so much kinder, or am I just wearing rose-colored glasses?

SHOWER TIME FOR KUMA

 

Today I gave Kuma a shower and now I know why they charge so much for his grooming appointment. It was not a pleasant experience, although he smells much better now than he did before we showered.

And, when I say “we” showered, I mean, we showered. It took two tries to get him into the shower. He didn’t want to go and there was a whole bunch of water on the floor and me by the time I got him in the shower. It was a good thing I’d stripped down to my panties before we began this exercise because my nightie, or any other clothing, would have been as damp as my underwear.

Kuma seemed rather resigned to his shower once he was in there. He didn’t try to climb back out and allowed me to spray him with very warm water. He also allowed me to add puppy shampoo (it doesn’t sting the eyes) after I turned the water off and scrub him all over his entire body. Kuma also stood completely still as I turned the water back on and began to rinse all the shampoo off his body. You have no idea how grateful I was for his cooperation.

Once the soap was completely rinsed off, I shut the shower door and waited for him to shake. He’d already shaken once, even before I got the shampoo on him, but he refused to shake even though I waited several minutes. I opened the shower door and allowed him to climb out, quickly putting a big towel over him. Then, he shook, and shook again, and shook again, and shook again, even when the towel fell off. I’m sure if I look closely, I’ll find water droplets that have dried on the walls, tub and toilet. I’m not looking closely today, maybe tomorrow.

I used my hair dryer to attempt to dry his fur somewhat. He didn’t like that either and kept moving around the bathroom, which was actually fine because I could dry both sides and his back. He wasn’t completely dry when I finally gave in to his very loud barks and movements of irritation and turned the hair dryer off.

Then, I put another towel on the couch, so he could be in that place and allow his fur to dry. Of course, he didn’t want to be there, he wanted to be alongside me on the other couch. It took some loud commands to get Kuma to stay on the other couch even though he wasn’t exactly on the towel I placed there. 

Now, several hours later, he’s all dry and fluffy and smells much better than he did when we went to bed last night. However, after this experience, I understand why Hippie Hounds charges so much to groom him. It must take at least four people and who knows how much effort to get him bathed, dried, brushed and his toenails clipped. I didn’t clip his toenails or brush him and barely got him bathed and dried. I don’t know about Kuma, but his mommy is totally exhausted.

THE BILLS ARE PAID...FOR NOW

 

Well, I just finished paying the bills for April, including the property tax bill. There’s a part of me that feels good because the funds were there, and while they are now more or less nonexistent, at least the bills are all paid in full. But there’s another part of me that would like to see a high remaining balance, or at least way more than what’s in there now. 

Somehow, I always thought I would reach a point in my life where I wouldn’t need to worry or be concerned about having enough money to do whatever I want to do. Soon to begin my eighth decade, I’m pretty sure I’ll never reach a point where I can simply purchase whatever I want without having to consider just how I’ll pay for whatever that acquisition might be.

Once my grandmother moved to California when I was twelve years old, my mother began confiding in me rather than my dad her concerns about the family’s financial status. So, I began worrying at an early age about how the bills would get paid, how to rob Peter to pay Paul and vice-versa. I assumed somehow that once I was all grown up and responsible for just myself (or my family), those worries would no longer be present because I’d be in control.

Well, you know what they say about early programming…it sticks. So, throughout my entire life, regardless of the debits and credits in my financial life, I’ve continued to fret about having enough money to pay the bills, and never mind  having enough left over to do with as I choose. Even right now, with the bills paid and a small balance, I’ll move on to worry about future months and whatever expenses I incur. 

Provided nothing absolutely insane is activated by that asshole in DC, I’m pretty sure I have more than enough money to get me through the remainder of my life. There might even be a few dollars left for the kids and grandkids to share amongst themselves. So, why am I devoting even a moment (let alone this blog post) to thinking about having enough money? 

I would guess it was that early programming; and even were I to win a huge lottery (fat chance since I don’t purchase tickets), I’d still undoubtedly spend time and energy worrying about my potential for lack of funds. But for now, I can put aside that concern…at least for April.

POOR PITIFUL MOI

Please pardon me while I have a huge pity party. I have a wide variety of reasons as to why I’m feeling so down and depressed. My usual way of getting out of this pitiful valley of sorriness is to CHOOSE to not feel this way; however, there are times when the CHOOSE button seems to be frozen and doesn’t allow me to make a choice that would make me feel better. 

Only those of you who live alone will probably understand where I am right now. The house gets lonely, and while I have family and friends, it’s not like they are involved in my life on a daily basis. I deeply envy the friends I know who do have family and friends who do inhabit their lives daily. 

I’m convinced there has always been and will always be something seriously wrong with me. If that weren’t the case, then why am I feeling like this? Why isn’t my life full of family and friends who make more of an effort to be a bigger part of my life. And, okay, you’re thinking I could reach out to those folks, but I don’t feel as though I can. They have lives with their own families, jobs and interests. I’m simply not high on their important list and I don’t feel comfortable in trying to get myself placed higher on that list.

While in this valley of sorriness, I’ve been asking myself these questions:

1. When was the last time a family member invited me to have lunch or dinner, or participate in some activity? There hasn’t been an invitation that isn’t holiday- or birthday-oriented in years. True, when I ask for assistance (which I try not to do), family members respond affirmatively.

2. When was the last time a friend invited me to their home for lunch or dinner or to join them in some activity? And, okay, I do have two friends who are single like me. They do issue invitations which I accept and I issue invitations in return. I also have another friend who makes a weekly visit and does invite me to go out to lunch or dinner, but the other six days she is busy with her family and life. 

         Hopefully, residing in this valley of sorriness won’t last too long. It usually doesn’t, but let me tell you that being here sucks big time. There are so many days and hours wherein I see or speak to no one but Kuma. I guess over time this loneliness builds up until I sink down into the valley. 

        Now, having thought about and written this, I’m hoping that I can climb back out into the world, look around, count my blessings (because I do have blessings) and be grateful for them. 

DECISIONS ARE AND HAVE ALWAYS BEEN UP TO ME

 

        Finally, after umpteen trips to the tire store to have my tires checked and reinflated, the young man who helped me this morning told me the right front tire has a nail in it. This tire was the reason my tire warning light kept coming on about every two weeks. The other three tires rarely needed to have air added, but the right front would be down by about ten pounds every time I made the trip.

This ongoing problem and the eventual solution (I have an appointment for Friday to have the nail removed.) took far too long. It made me wish I had a partner in my life who would attend to things like this. On the other hand, John never took care of my vehicle. He believed, and rightly so, that it was my responsibility to make sure my car was in good working order. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t check something if I asked, but if there was a problem, the solution to it was in my court.

This also brought to the forefront my need to get bids to have my fence either repaired or replaced. Things like this were always taken care of by John…after all, he was a handyman. Now, it’s up to me to get the bids and figure out how to proceed. I’ve been putting off calling the men who would come and give me bids for two reasons, i.e., I don’t want the responsibility and I don’t want to spend the money.

John never assumed any responsibility he believed was mine, and I was always so independent I never “leaned” on him for the solution to whatever problem I was experiencing. True, he would play devil’s advocate, but the eventual decision was up to me. I did and didn’t like that aspect of our partnership.

I was raised to be independent during a time when men were expected to take care of their women. Now, that’s not how it was in my family, but all the media devoted to young women growing up portrayed that ideal. Grown and married, I actually expected my husband to take care of me. When our first child arrived, that meant my working days were over and we were both now his responsibility. That rose-colored dream didn’t last very long at all and I was soon back to work and more or less supporting myself and my child. 

Of course, there’s a part of me that is extremely proud of how I’ve managed my life…how can I not be. On the other hand, there’s a part of me that has always loved the idea I could curl up in my husband’s lap and relinquish any responsibility for any part of my life…a silly impossible idea/dream.

So, I just need to face the facts I’ve faced time and time again during my entire life. If something needs to be addressed or accomplished, there is absolutely no point, no matter how desirable, in waiting around for someone else to provide a solution. Like it or not it has been and will continue to be my responsibility…as if I actually ever had another choice.