Showing posts with label J-Lo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label J-Lo. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

An Evening In With The Hounds

J-Lo came bounding into my bedroom tonight, proudly carrying the dried tortilla I gave to her this morning, after it fell on the floor while making breakfast. "Come here Pretty Girl." Her brown eyes darted in my direction but she didn't move. Skimper-Scamper came merrily over into the circle between my legs, where I had patted the bed cover and invited Ms. Lo. I crawled down to the foot of the bed and encircled the sleek elegant dog in my arms. She needed love. I hugged her, laying my head on her backside and scruffed up her neck the way she likes. She moaned at me, like she wanted something or was not quite happy with the situation with the puppy, but I just kept on loving on her and telling her what a good dog she was. I leaned down and inspected her tortilla, half-eaten, and quickly becoming brittle and air dried. I broke off a small piece and offered it to her, but she didn't want it. The tortilla had become more of a trophy. Kind of like a shiny red toy fire engine that one kid gets to flaunt in front of the other. When she turned away from the morsel, I offered it to Cecino. He voraciously munched away at it, immediately drawing the attention of the Whippet. She moaned again, as if to tell me how dismayed she was that I gave it to him. I snuggled up again to her and told her it was all right. She could share. Slowly, the puppy came gently creeping up on my right side. At first he just sat there quietly, intently eyeing me and Ms. Lo. Then he crept forward some more gently sniffing her feet while I pet her. Eventually, he got close enough to nose her tummy, and then he did this thing that I had seen him do before, but didn't understand until now. His tongue came out and he gently prodded her nipple, attempting to urge out some milk. She moaned again, this time at him. He stopped. But came back and tried kissing her tummy-tum again. I had seen him do this, but I always thought it was just a gentle sign of affection. I was never close enough to notice that he was lapping at her teat. J-Lo's never had puppies. And her nipples are barely even there. But this puppy was trying to suckle at her belly. I had witnessed him air-suckling in his sleep before. Poor little one. Poor Ms. Lo too! No wonder she gets snappy with him sometimes. Dear dear puppies. How I do love you.

I have been digging out things from my freezer, working my way through the still edible yet mysterious items. Last evening, I boiled up 4 Cornish game hens. I had bought a bunch of them FIVE years ago! My mom and I had our share, but the last 4 were buried deep in the back of my freezer taking up valuable real estate. The hens had been wrapped in that thick industrial shrink wrap that turkeys come in, and then packaged and wrapped again. They didn't have freezer burn, and smelled just fine when I defrosted them. But still, five years is a long time, and I knew that I wasn't going to be willing to eat them. So I boiled them up for the hounds. They know this drill because every once in a while, when I get a good deal on chicken (usually thigh meat), I'll boil up a big stock pot of it for them and then shred the chicken, discarding the skin and bones. Then I'll take the chicken stock and make a big pot of rice for them. Monica taught me how to do this. It's great! And the dogs love it. I mix it in with some of their dry kibble and some cottage cheese. I fed them the feast last night. From the looks of it, they'll be feasting for a while on the two stock pots of home made dog food. 

Sunday, July 24, 2011

The Dog Officially Hates Me

So the whippet has lost all respect for me. It feels like we are an old married couple. And the resentment and unsaid things and assumptions are seeping into our marriage. It all started with losing my mother. No. Check that. It began before that, with the stress of my mother's illness. Dogs pick up on human emotions. Many a time, when my mother was in the hospital, I would come home to a huge mess on the floor. Not because the dog couldn't hold it or didn't have access to the outside potty. But more as a little doggie post-it note saying: "Hey! Fuck you! I have feelings too ya know. What's going on!?! I've been a wreck over this. Somebody come hold me and give me some treats."

Things admittedly got back on track for a while. For a while, I would hold J-Lo all the time. And then...I got 
Señor Piccolo. Her new BFF *and* arch rival for my affection. For a while there, I thought that Ms. Lo was going deaf. I would call her, and she wouldn't come. I would call her even louder and with more enthusiasm -even promising her treats...and she *still* wouldn't come. Eventually I realized that this was her way of saying "Piss off!" OK. Ms. Lo. Point taken. I need to spend more one on one time with you. I had no idea that one day I would be getting *attitude* from a dog. :p 



As if life wasn't complicated enough these days...

Thursday, June 23, 2011

J-Lo The Whippet

Last night I started looking for places in San Francisco and Berkeley. Scoping out potential options for me. I've had it good here. For a long while, I've grown accustomed to the comfort, space, and privacy that living in your own house can provide. I have two dogs to show for it. And I love them. But they most likely will not be able to come with me if I move. We'll see about that. Nothing is decided upon for now. For all I know I may be able to stay here. It really all depends on the news I'll be getting this week. 

I thought about things from J-Lo's perspective: in a short while, her whole world has turned upside down. Her pack has been reordered considerably. She was my mom's dog -her favorite. She would spend her days lounging on her bed or on the couch with La Suprema. Looking out the window, or soaking up the sun. It's funny, in the summertime she actually gets sunburned if I don't put spray sunscreen on her belly. Her tender underside is a maze of little brown polka dots on a pinkish white stretch of fur and skin. Her life was that of a beloved friend. A constant companion. Even when my mother would spend long stretches in the hospital, I would take J-Lo to see her. Out of the two dogs, J-Lo was definitely most comfortable in hospitals. She just got it. Instinctively. She knew that it was a time to be calm and tender. Gracefully, as if she could fly, she would spring onto my mothers bed, landing softly. Then, in a protective manner; as if to give comfort, she would lay her head across my mother. Sometimes even stretching across her lap. She did this when my mother was so bad that she couldn't even speak. She was just writhing in pain. Moaning. Dying in a slow mysterious death that nobody understood, or could stop. J-Lo was not like humans. When she witnessed this, the only thing she knew to do was love. She wasn't afraid. She had a job. It was to be with her human and love her. Comfort her. Protect her. And let her know that she was not alone. 


For her loyalty, I made her a promise. She took care of my mother when I was not able to be there. She loved and protected her and gave her comfort. When La Suprema was alone, she could reach out and feel the warm furry body of her dog, and it would relax her. For all of this...and because my mother loved her and asked me to as well...I promised that I would take care of her. That after my mother died, that I would keep her and love her forever. I may not be able to keep that promise as I had originally intended it. Not because I don't love her or want her. But simply because it's almost impossible to find a share rental that will accept dogs. The cute boy has offered to take my dogs if the need arises. I'm grateful for that. But it doesn't seem right that he should have to shoulder so much responsibility for one of my promises. Not to mention the fact that he would be delaying/possibly forgoing one of his dreams...the dream of a basset hound puppy. We'll see what the future brings. For now, I am open to all possibilities. And I will make the best decision when the time comes. I am willing to give J-Lo to a loving home if I have to. She deserves to have space to run. And a family. 

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Meeting Ellen Blakely

Sunday, October 17, 2010 at 7:21pm

Well...I met Ellen Blakely today. I don't think she'll forget me. Everything was going great, and I was just about to leave, when her chocolate colored longhaired dachshund started barking at my dogs in my car. She asked me about the puppy...and seemed interested in meeting him. So I went over to the car to get him out for his introduction. Well...the puppy was leaning up against the car door, and I didn't want to open it and have him come tumbling out onto the asphalt, so I gingerly opened the door a crack and was trying to reach in and grab him while making sure that he did not fall out. In the meanwhile, J-Lo (the whippet) ended up poking her head out and going nose to nose wth Ellen Blakely's dog. At first I didn't even notice it because they were both so quiet. But then the silence was broken. They both started barking at eachother, and J-Lo ended up running down her dog several times. In the end her dog ran inside the house, and I caught the whippet and put her back in the car after scolding her. Yeah. I don't think she'll forget me. I'm just glad everyone was ok. Her dog was fine. My dog was a jerk. The puppy piddled all over me in the excitement. :p Oh...and Ellen was nice enough to have me back. I'm going to be learning her process with her at her studio. Next time...I'll leave my dogs at home. :p
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    • Krista Arata Ok so who is Ellen Blakely? Am I showing my ignorance?
      October 17, 2010 at 7:28pm · 
    • Vanessa Medina Not really Krista. She's just this artist who's work I've admired for years.
      She does this really neat process utilizing broken safety glass. I really want to make a backsplash in my kitchen using it...so I'm glad to finally meet her.

      http://thedecoratingdiva.com/ellen-blakeley-of-ellen-blakeley-studio/

      http://www.americanmosaics.org/pdffiles/GL2008aBlakeley.pdf
      October 17, 2010 at 7:59pm · 
    • Leslie LCreezy Crebassa Oh yay!! I loved visiting her studio a few years back. We'll have to make some safety glass mosaic stuff together. We can talk to my dad about getting car windows that are gonna get tossed or not used.
      October 17, 2010 at 8:10pm ·  ·  1 person
    • Vanessa Medina I *did* mention you Leslie. :)
      October 17, 2010 at 8:41pm · 
    • Leslie LCreezy Crebassa hahaha i doubt she remembered me, especially since i didn't have a dog with me to start a ruckus at the time... :P yay, looking forward to the beauty you will create!
      October 17, 2010 at 9:07pm · 

Rhinestone Kung-Fu

Saturday, October 16, 2010 at 12:54pm

(I decided that this one should live on in a note) :)

----------------------------------------------------------------
October 16th, 2010 -Morning:

The puppy and the whippet were playing together today. It made me a little nervous because the puppy could fit inside the whippet's mouth. -and *did* on several occasions. :p Amazingly the baby opened up a chihuahua sized can of woop-ass and held his own. I think the rhinestone collar helped from a defensive position (...apparently rhinestones don't feel good in the mouth of whippet's) 
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Crack-Baby-Dog

April 17th, 2010; 12:11 AM

Current mood:loved
Crack-baby-dog I love you. You hop on the bed and greet me. Lick my toes as if to say "Hiya", and look deep into my eyes to make sure I'm paying attention. I am. And I love you too. 

Floppy Bunny Mess
There is no finer dinner than the noble and humble fried egg. Yum.

I decided to stay in tonight. My mom isn't feeling well, and honestly I'm not either. I feel depressed/tired. I don't feel sad per se. But uninspired. And exhausted. Unmotivated. And unfulfilled. So yeah. Depressed. I just need to rest and recharge my battery. I don't know how I'll ever get there, but I keep trying. So I'm relaxing in bed right now. Typing away. Loading up The Witches of Eastwick on my computer while I do this. In a moment I will be enraptured with the soothing mental qualities of a good film with my comfy feather pillow at my back, and my warm blanket wrapped around my body. Dinner is in my tummy. The beastly dog is outside. And La Suprema is resting in her room. Laundry is going in the kitchen and I have responsibly canceled my plans, so no one is awaiting my arrival. I like this feeling. I sometimes think to myself that at the heart of me is a social recluse. I love hunkering down in my home and feeling protected and insulated from the noise and chaos of the world outside. I love nesting and relaxing in a private oasis. It's ironic that at this very moment, while I am waxing poetic about my love for privacy, my dog is perched upon the barbecue and is looking into my window and mawing at me, disrupting my peace. Oh well. Nothing's perfect. ...But I also love my friends. And I love experiencing new things. So yes. I am a social recluse. I want to be alone at times. And when I do, I love it.


An Assortment of Things...

Thursday, January 14, 2010 at 3:47am

Today was filled with an assortment of moments. Everything from suprise to melancholy. I've been away from work so long that I feel out of my groove and honestly anxious about money. Not working and lots of medical bills are the least of my worries, but they're still there. Mainly though, I am struggling with myself. I feel on the brink of a deep sadness, like a rising swell in the ocean that threatens to swallow me up. And I keep pushing up. I keep telling myself the same crap that I make my mom repeat. "Inch by inch, life's a cinch. Yard by yard, life is hard. So we are going to take this inch by inch. I can do this. I believe in myself. And I will rise." But sometimes I have a hard time feeling it in my bones. Really tapping into that confidence and feeling of safety is a challenge when the most important things in your life are filled with daily struggle. I had thought that her stay in the hospital meant that for now things were ok. And that her current exacerbation was over. I was wrong. Wow. Who knew? -My mom knew. She keeps saying "I'm sick. I'm not well. Please help me." Over and over. And I just pushed it off. Like she was perseverating. But when we saw the neurologist he disagreed. He said that she keeps saying that probably because she's right. Fuck. That's not the right answer! Don't you know that's not the right answer? You're supposed to say "She's going to be fine." Fuck. We are moving forward though with the only treatment that has ever helped her. And I just hope that it does again. And I really hope that I am not hurting her with it. The doctor wanted me to be aware of how risky it was because she's already had her limit. I know he has to make that clear because of the litigious culture that we live in. And that even though the risk is real, the other reality is that she has been rapidly declining since her last treatment. It worked. And when we stopped doing it, she got worse quickly. So I just hope that it is the right choice. Fuck. I hate being an adult sometimes. I hate making all of these fucked up choices that may or may not help or kill the person that I hold most dear in my life. For the record: This part of adulthood really sucks.

My mom is doing better at home. She's exhausted for the most part and just wants to rest. She's not back to being her usual self. She not happy yet. Just tired and sick. She's made a new request. She wants to be alone a lot now. In the hospital, she never wanted to be alone. She always wanted me with her. But now at home she just wants to rest and be alone. At first, I had to make her keep the dog with her. (When she said alone, she really meant it. Right down to the dog even.) But a few days of settling into things, and I no longer have to force the dog on her. I've even found that when I go to check on her, she is often times stroking the dog, or sleeping with one hand resting on her fur. I know that the dog gives her some sort of companionship and comfort. Some sort of peace in all of this confusion and sadness.

My job right now is to get it together. However that has to happen, it has to happen now. I need to cry, let off some steam, and feel all of my feelings -but not in front of my mom. For her, I need to be rock-solid. I need to be confident and focused. A beacon of light.

I found my childhood journal. I used to clip and paste pictures into it and scribble down anything that felt right to me. Things to give me hope and confidence. Sayings that just resonated with me on some level. This one seems particularly appropriate right now more than ever...

“To be a star, you must shine your own light, follow your own path, and don't worry about the darkness, for that is when the stars shine brightest” 

Back then, the darkness was the unknown. And my greatest struggle was just being myself and letting people around me know that person with all of my feelings and opinions. The darkness to me was that moment after you say what's on your mind, and you don't know how it will be received...Will people laugh? Like it? Hate it? Who knew? And I was so afraid of that when I was younger. I'm over that now. I've found the joy of fully being myself and attracting or repelling those who like me for who I am (or not). But this saying is still true for me. There is still darkness. And a light to shine. A different type now. The darkness is still the unknown. But it's more like what will happen with my mom? And how do I keep going with poise, and confidence, and grace? How do I manage all of my feelings and still enjoy what is left and not poision it with grief? And how do I find the strength to believe in something that seems so impossible yet wonderful? I try to imagine a future with my mom. A happy future where we all get what we want. I try to imagine finishing my education. And a family. A baby that my mother will hold one day and love. That will grow and know her. That will love her in return. I try to find a way in my imagination for all of this to exist. And it is honestly a mental struggle. I push myself to do it (allowing for the part of me that does not believe in make-believe or fairy-tales) because on some level I know that thoughts precede action. And so I try to guide my life in the direction that I want by beginning with the end in mind. Even if it seems impossible.
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Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Yoda Dog Says: "Snap Out Of It!"


Aug. 12th, 2009 at 10:37 PM

I am still feeling up and down. Unfortunately I see that I am currently easily influenced by what other people say, and my own negative thoughts. Which sporadically send me spiraling downward into crying jags. Bleh! I can't wait for this to be over with. It's like I cry and then I calm down and give myself a good talking to...and then I regain my composure and feel momentarily better, like I've got it all under control and I'm a good person who is now moving forward. And then I hit a bump and cry again. Meh. Luckily, I'm also easily distracted out of my crying jags. ...for instance: I was sitting on my bed crying when all of a sudden I noticed a noise...I stopped crying so that I could listen more intently...and noticed that it was coming from the bathroom...it was the dog drinking from the toilet! Agh! I hate it when she does that! I told her to stop and of course she instantly came bounding into my room with a wet jaw of fresh toilet water and proceeded to lick me! Eeeeeeew! Talk about gross! But at least I am grossed out and laughing vs. crying. Which I guess is an upgrade?
Groups:Inner Circle Peeps


My name is: NO! NO! BAD DOG!

Sunday, June 14, 2009 at 11:51pm

I remember now why I don't usually rent video's anymore at the local Video Droid. -It's the late fees. I'm always late. I just never seem to have enough time to watch the movie before it's due (even though I really want to!) So "Castaway" is one day late, and I swear it won't be two! I hop in the car with 8 minutes to spare before they close, and the dog is riding shotgun. I love having the pooch go for short car trips around town with me. It reminds me of heroic post-apocalyptic dogs..like the one Mad Max is riding around with after the end of the world. My dog is nowhere as rough and tumble...but she's still good company. Anyhoo... It's neat that she's finally getting the hang of riding in the car with me. And she's also gotten down being off leash (or so I think). When we get home, I hop out of the car, and she comes bounding after me. A man riding his bicycle comes swiftly around the corner. He is upon us so quickly, that the dog doesn't know what to make of it. She's right in the path of his headlight with her head cocked to the side. He starts swerving around her all while saying "Oh! No! No, no!" I call her and she gets out of the way...and then goes chasing him down the block! I can't believe she did that! It was embarrassing and funny all at the same time. I tried to scold her and be mad about it...but I couldn't help but laugh at her. She was so proud of herself. Defending the neighborhood from rogue bike riders. She didn't bark at him, and I certainly don't think she would have bitten him...but she did have a really good time giving him a chase. When she came, she was happily panting and frisky. Like she was saying "Gee mom! Look what I did! Yeah...Yeah...Don't mess with the best baby! I'm bad! I'm so bad they call me badness!" 
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