Thursday, November 30, 2006
It used to seem like Abu was the canine incarnation of myself, but lately I'm realizing that it was only a part of myself. With Puja, the incarnation is complete. I live with myself, but I don't talk back, I chew shit up, I bark at the neighbor's cat. Part of me sleeps with myself but the other part is ever vigilant at the front door, never completely asleep. Part of me is serious and withdrawn, hates change but loves new places, and part of me is happy and outgoing, kind of whiny and sometimes mouthy. Between my two dogs, I don't technically need to exist. I'm like the interpreter, saying, "this is what we'd be like if we were a single human."
When I first took Puja home, and for about a month afterward, I wondered if I had made the right decision in getting a second dog, given my single parent status and tight budget. Abu wasn't adjusting very quickly, which is typical of Abu, and Puja wasn't even a vague resemblence of what I'd imagined. But these days I can't imagine our family without little "jah"
I've been taking it easy at work lately. They don't pay me enough to stretch myself that thin. If they have a problem with that, they can demote me to the bandsaw. I would love the holiday.
I have been off somewhere.... inside my head.... off on a little trip. Sometimes when I need a break but can't get one, I feel myself go away for a little while, to an imaginary place where everything I need and want is at my fingertips. I got some bad news early this week. I hadn't realized just how deep my hope went, but I'm not ready yet to give up on a miracle. I've gone away to a place where miracles are possible.
So I've had nothing useful to say. I'm sorry. My coping mechanism is up and running and there's nothing I can do about it, at least not for now.