Dogs over Blogs

Socks has THE best smile. We wait very tall in the shadows for the beast. She gives not one shit and continues rolling around on her own. We got up late. it worked.

Finally ran today. It’s been 6 long weeks. Totally a different person.

Of course it was like in the teens and windy as shit. But it definitely kept me running and not walking. So far, mostly okay. New neutral shoes were awesome. Anyway, it wasn’t like an awesome pretty run, but it was amazing. I totally feel like myself again finally. And I might go crazy and eat carbs today. And hopefully will sleep tonight. It’s been a long time with no sleep. I think i got like 2 hours last night. Then woke up and thought of everything I have to do today and couldn’t go back to sleep.

By 9 am I had been to the park twice, vacuumed, got the laundry together and fed the dogs. When I was done vacuuming all of a sudden I had a sharp pain in my thumb. now it is purple and huge. No clue what I did. It could have been running with Trixie going nuts on the leash or moving shit around too fast when i was vacuuming. With 4 animals, you really have to vacuum seriously. Now I am icing my mystery humongous cartoon thumb so I can stay cold as shit all day.

Good thing i got up so early. And my work system is down. All the rushing. Guess I can cook and use the new chopper I got for Christmas. Super excited for a new appliance. Seriously, the sneakers and the chopper are the best gifts ever. I am so old and dorky. But the new running pants are awesome and looking good y’all. See? I am such an endorphin freak. I am totally one of those people who should never not workout. So I am going to ease back into distance, don’t think I am doing any races til Broad Street, so no rush. Just no more time off, seriously.

The beast was A MESS running. She wanted to stop and pee like a boy every other block. Strange. Maybe she is just out of shape too? Then she nearly killed me on the ramp down from the bridge. But she is totally passed out now. Back to work on something I guess. And finish my 24 marathon. DirectTV is playing it straight through with no commercials. Just finishing yesterday’s day one and day two is already recording. I totally forgot so much about the first season. Except how much I love me some Jack Bauer. Oh- and can you believe it was 10 years ago? Crazy. I was talking about it on Twitter with my friend and she reminded me about that whole WWJBD thing. Funny.

I just screamed like a girl for the first time (I think?)

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We have a getting home ritual. When we get to the steps, Trixie goes up the steps and sits down like this picture. Rocky stands lengthwise in front of the steps and I take his leash off and he waits until I pet him. Then I step over him and open the door and put Trixie in. Rocky then goes up the steps around me and stands in front of me again for petting. So while we were just doing this after lunch, all of a sudden his hair goes up. I look over my shoulder and a humungous boxer jumps up at me. I screamed so loud I didn’t even realize it was me. It really wasn’t a big deal, it was the boxer from down the alley and he is a sweet goof. But JESUS I somehow did not see him coming. I put the dogs in and went back out to the store. I didn’t realize til I went back out that my heart was pounding and I was shaking. It’s funny now, but i haven’t been that scared in a while. And at no time did I see a human, even after i screamed. I know the owner hits that poor dog too, I should have just put him in my house.

A little over a week ago a neighbor called me because he was out by himself.  She found his owner before I got home, but it’s frustrating that strangers care more. I know the guy and he is okay. He actually has a can for everyone and leaves notes for people who don’t clean up. It’s the bitch girlfriend who doesn’t clean up and doesn’t come out. I’ve been dying to tell him that I saw his dog go right outside my house. She watched and then called him home, so it’s not like she didn’t see it. But he’s not great, either. He is super nice to me (a little too nice sometimes if you know what I mean. He offers me drugs all the time. Sweet. Then he forgets. Then he tells me he sells drugs and more. One time i asked what and he said stereos. How fucking random is that?

RELATED: A couple nights ago I couldn’t sleep and I took extra Melatonin and benedryl. All night I felt like I was conscious, but I was kind of dozing i guess. (Dozing is a weird word, right?) And all of a sudden this huge big headed pit bull jumped on my bed. Trixie jumped up and so did Rocky, right from where they were all night. I got up and saw it was an unneutered male and tried to grab him.

I didn’t want him to challenge Rocky, who would never back down. And I ran to make sure the cats were up high. AND OMG there was another one in the hallway and the door was opening- #3 was on the steps (the same steps where the boxer just jumped up on me!). It was chaos. And then I could feel myself fighting to wake up but I was stuck with all these dogs who were posturing, in my tiny house with no doors to shut (easily).

I finally came to as one dog, no idea which was lunging at my face (just like the boxer! but not to lick like him). But everything was exactly as it was in reality in my dream, none of the usual alterations. Trixie and Rocky and Bobby were still in the same place. So, I do think i was semi-conscious. But it was so freaky. A premonition? Just kidding, but weird, no?

Try not to covet my new fashion line (It’s called T-Rock, obvs.).

It’s only for strong women, looking for the next challenge she will have to break and control. This one is called: GO TO WAR. It is for the competitive warrior girl who likes to fight for what she wants. She thrives on resistance. Winning every battle is her signature. She recognizes no weakness. Her only fear is an unworthy opponent.

Or it is for the person who takes one dog’s leash off at the bottom of the steps, drops that one dog off and goes back out to continue to walk the other while forgetting to take the first one’s leash off. Either, way, so stylish, non? Real bitches wear leashes.

As usual the cops ruined my day (walk).

These jerks right here:

They were just hanging out on the corner. I swear I thought Trixie had seen horses before. Like when we run all summer and go by the horrible suffering carriage horses. Well. Evidently she had not fully noticed them? She did this time.

And she lost her freaking mind. I think she pulled somewhere between 5 and all of the muscles I have. She really went out of her skull. I turned the other way and drug her up Bainbridge. The whole way she was screaming like she was running from Freddy Krueger, Jason and Michael Myers at once. And she had already been stabbed. People came out of their houses. She hasn’t acted like that in years. So crazy. I got her a little calmed down and turned down Grays to South Street. Stopped to talk to someone when we were like 1/2 way to 22nd and she went insane all over again. At the corner at 22nd, she was looking everywhere and crying with intermittent pathetic howls.

Even though the horses were long gone, she stayed all crazed. I just kept walking and walking until she finally calmed down a little. But seriously. What were they doing here anyway? Stupid cops. Always with the ruining.

Top 5 signs/evidence I suck at dog training. And lots else.

1. The thing I say most to my insane maniac dog while walking is “Don’t be a dick.” (coming in 2nd, after she is, in fact, the aforementioned dick- “Are you on drugs?”) Brilliant.

2. Last night this dog I never saw before was stalking Trixie and she was PISSED. I switched her to the outside and explained to this total stranger in a helpful almost apologetic (hard for me) way that my dog was a hypocrite. I must have sounded like a real expert dog behavioristical type person using such fancy dog related terminology. (it was weird, the lady looked scared of her own dog and mine and her dog was crazy fat, which is also weird around here..thank god i acted so normally with calming words to put her at ease)

3. Today I told her that she might want to try being good one day because she just might like it and people will pet her more. It is logical. I am sure she totally got it, right?

4. I like to put stuff on her because it helps her to act more like a lady. And because I like not carrying stuff and people laughing when they see her. Seriously. I am a bringer of joy to the neighborhood. She gets way more attention when she is all backpacked up. Hopefully they don’t notice her eyes pleading for help.

5. I reward her as much for acting funny as I do for behaving like the a lady. Because let’s be real. I appreciate those in my life who are funny the most (kidding. mean it.) and if I waited to reward her for the rare ladylike occasion, poor girl would be skin and bones.

Figured out today that I actually have priority in the small dog park.

I feel so powerful. Not really. It’s just that I am always hauling ass to get out of there when a little dog person comes. It seems small dog run means the run size, not necessarily that it is only for small dogs. The posted rules equally say Senior, Small and physically challenged dogs have priority. I feel like Rocky is two of them. Too bad mentally challenged isn’t in there, then Trix and I would qualify too.

But HEY little dog people, you can’t clear me out just because you have a little dog. It never fails that when some overdressed whorebag in heels makes me get out of the small park that they stay for 2 seconds (because they have one little boring dog and heels on) and then leave or go into the big side. Waste.

My dogs and I play in there. Fun and exercise and all. Like the whole purpose of the park. Put your dog back in your pocket and get back to your stupid office job in your slutty morning getup. Can you tell I like anything that gives me the slightest power? But for real, I WIN NOW. I always was so contrite getting out of there like I was doing something illicit. NOPE. We are on what we will call for their sake a level playing field. I guess our basic park rights are equal, but come on. I have the high ground, brain and arguing-wise. I am indignant before I even get there…..

Trixie was being bad so I told her I was going to leaf her there. This is the after photo. BAM! Sunday morning jokes are exactly what you would expect.
We also went to see the marathon so I could just die from jealousy. I am dead from serious envy. Have been since I saw the first bibs on Friday. I hate you all. But I love you all! Hope you did so great! Seriously, I want to hate but I can’t. I love distance runners. I love their minds and bodies and strength and discipline and strength of character (I just know that part). So, I cheered a little and took some pics. I was so psyched to do it this year. Then as I was leaving, down the steps from Chestnut, Trix took a corner and trying to protect my hip on the steps, I wrenched the shit out of my back. I hope at least a few runners are sore. No i don’t. Here are some lucky schmucks. These are the people averaging about 7 minute miles halfway in. Oh- and I decided my schedule for the next year is PR at Broad Street and then Philly marathon this day next year. The whole one. I am going in.

Trixie was being bad so I told her I was going to leaf her there. This is the after photo. BAM! Sunday morning jokes are exactly what you would expect.

We also went to see the marathon so I could just die from jealousy. I am dead from serious envy. Have been since I saw the first bibs on Friday. I hate you all. But I love you all! Hope you did so great! Seriously, I want to hate but I can’t. I love distance runners. I love their minds and bodies and strength and discipline and strength of character (I just know that part). So, I cheered a little and took some pics. I was so psyched to do it this year. Then as I was leaving, down the steps from Chestnut, Trix took a corner and trying to protect my hip on the steps, I wrenched the shit out of my back. I hope at least a few runners are sore. No i don’t. Here are some lucky schmucks. These are the people averaging about 7 minute miles halfway in. Oh- and I decided my schedule for the next year is PR at Broad Street and then Philly marathon this day next year. The whole one. I am going in.

Trixie has been Godzilla-ing the shit out of me lately. She gets up on the couch and just tramples everything to get this close to my face and then sits. And then looks out the window and does it again. Normally she is pretty observant of boundaries, but the last few days, i have been working a lot and she has taken it upon herself to give me forced breaks.

I have to grab my drinks and get everything out of the way. She walks right up my legs, on my papers, onto the keyboard, a black and white cat, remote, phone, table. Nothing is safe. You can even see in the one pic, everything is crooked from her stomping around…It’s funny and equally annoying as shit. (RELATED: Do you remember Godzuki???!! I loved that little guy! And the song!)

Godzilla Godzilla Godzilla and Gooodddzuuuuuukkkiiii.

Rocky at the dog park and senior dogs

Days like today are one of the reasons I care about and write about senior pets so much. If you’ve never had one you really are missing a lot. (First, see if you or anyone you know can save this 7yo Helen, a mastiff mix at the PSPCA) I was miserable this morning. My torn hip flexer hurts like a mother in the morning and it was raining. I left my house and these people stopped in traffic and rolled down their window to tell me how cute Trixie looked in her hoodie. They told me (it’s pretty bad on my street in the a.m.) that she looked like their pittie girl who just died at 14, raving about these types of dogs and I was like, so nice. Then, her arch nemesis appears and Trixie went nuts. I saw the people looking as they drove away from my insane beast and I was like awesome. Then I had to yank her all the way back down the flooded alley. So miserable.

Anyway, we got down to the park and the small dog park was empty so we went in. of course is was empty, by now it was pouring rain and I was walking on my favorite jeans while they soaked under my feet. Awesome. Everything about me was wet and my hair was stuck to my face. A great just out of the shower (in my clothes) look. Some people like it, I know i ;) I had Trixie’s ball and threw it a couple times, blah blah blahzzzzz. Then Rocky came up to me with this brand new looking ball in his mouth and started trying to get me to play keepaway, all silly and prancey. He started going through my legs and getting me even more wet. He thought it was hilarious I know.

But I was so happy to see him get so excited and fetch a ball I almost started crying. I actually maybe did. (no he may be dead- anyone?) Or maybe the rain on my face just got super hot for a second. We’ll never know. I just couldn’t help the image of him a month ago when he couldn’t stand or walk and I thought he was gone. And now here he is standing, walking miles and chasing a ball. You have no idea. I got him in August of 1999. I think since then he saved my life at least 2-3 times. I mean, he really is the reason I am still here. He is one of the only things that makes me feel anything at all. And this made me so happy. Seriously, I do not cry. Ever. Unless it is dog related, then the potential for waterworks is insane.

And for everyone, it’s not that dramatic maybe, but the way an older dog loves you is unparalleled. The kind of happiness they bring is incomparable. And days like today make every sacrifice, everything I have done for this dog that people scoffed at, worth it. When I look at people with dogs this age who can still do so much, no matter whether I like them or not, I respect them and I know the kind of character they have on some level. And they know that every day with these dogs is a gift.

A friend of mine and her friend took their dogs to the beach last month. Two of them are like dog bfs and it was their first time to the beach together.One is 16 and one is 12 and they’ve had issues, we all have with older dogs. The pictures of them on the beach were some of the best pictures I’ve seen in a long time. They weren’t pictures of old frail dogs. (I would post them but I don’t feel like asking.) They were just dogs who have been loved so much that they are still just dogs in heaven on the beach, ageless. I am sure they were achey and a little sore the next day, but it was worth it. Seeing my boy and them happy, it’s worth every time we had to struggle to carry them, to stay up all night, to spend every penny we didn’t even have, to do all the things other people won’t but will regret they didn’t. We are lucky to have such healthy older dogs, but it’s not just luck that got us all this far.

And it’s not just like my dog, who I’ve had since he was under 6 weeks old. It’s the way older dogs love. I had a foster a couple years ago who was a senior. They said she was 13, but I don’t think she was that old. Anyway, she was so happy to be out of the shelter everyone who saw her smiled at how she bounced. I didn’t have her that long, she had a brain tumor, turns out. And it was still heartbreaking because you couldn’t NOT LOVE her. But I don’t regret it at all, not one second of carrying her, chasing her, retraining her, holding her while she seized or having to get new furniture. She got to be happy and have a home and eat frozen raw food and sleep in a bed for over 2 months. She was so grateful with every move. Which was every move I made, she took every step I did. I thought it was annoying in a pretend mad way. Then I missed it so badly. (I’ll add her picture later, I can’t look at it right now.)

Melodrama aside, if anyone gets this far, go get a senior dog or cat out of a shelter. You will never regret it and they need you. And now I have to go because I think my senior guy is worried I am hysterical. Or that I am going to stop giving him pretzels. One of those. here are the other pics. From today in the rain and from a few days ago. And some day I will be able to write about dogs and cancer, but that is still WAY off.