The Old Lady, The Puppy Head, and The New Guy

I realized when I was reviewing my About Me page the other day that I haven't written about losing our sweet Hannah very suddenly and quickly in April. It still hurts. Before this, I was lucky to say I'd never lost a pet. My parents always gave away our pets before they got old. So weird, right? 

My last picture of Hannah.

She was my first adult-life dog. I spent time with our Hannah girl as much as possible in the months before we lost her. Every time I thought to myself, Man, I don't want to take a walk with these dogs, I'd look at her and think too, But what if this is your opportunity for your last walk with Hannah Banana and you didn't do it? I'd grab their leashes and walk 'em both. Morbid? Maybe, but when you've been through big losses in life, I think your brain just naturally goes that way-- the DEATH way-- and that is mostly okay. In that way, I have no regrets that she didn't get enough love from us. 

Our last picture together.

I started talking about her very advanced age six months before we lost her because I wanted to be prepared. She was fifteen and damn, that's an old, full life for a dog. That's how I spoke about it too. "Damn, this dog is old, but look at her! She's still bouncing around and cuddling and being a sweetie! She's had an awesome life." And she did. 

Life post-Hanners was very quiet. Nipsy had never been alone in her whole life with us. She did not know what to do with all of the attention we were trying to slather all over her. She's not a cuddly dog. She's lovable and she'll love on you, but in her own way. This means by licking you or staring at you anxiously until you stop looking at her. It's not her personality to want to be all up in your grill. I tried, but she just looked scared.

I wanted to cry every time I looked at her little, white puppy face. She seemed so lost that I wanted to get her a buddy right away, but it felt too soon. Then we started dabbling with Petfinder-- you know what happens once you start looking at dogs on Petfinder. We went through the application process with a rescue dog organization in town so we could meet a few dogs and when the woman called me to interview me, I started ugly-crying when I talked about how much we loved on our dogs and how we lost Hannah and she was our first dog together. Then she started crying about her first dog that she lost years and years ago. We were both sobbing and through her tears, she said, "Honey, you guys obviously care about your animals. You can see any of our dogs and any time and I hope you adopt one." Aw. The kindness of strangers, let me tell you. I love dog people. 

So. Freakin'. Cute.

We met dogs and they weren't a good fit. Some of the dogs we met were so needy and nervous--my heart went out to them, but I didn't want to pair our sweet anxious dog with a new anxious dog. It took Nipsy years to not shirk away whenever she walked by a car or a boot. Then we met this guy:

Louis, formerly known as "Oscar," formerly known as "Zeus."

We'd been searching for a thirty pound dog around 3 or 4 years old with a gentle demeanor. I got the feeling when, on a whim, we went to meet a 70 pound dog around 1.5 years old on Mother's Day and he put his paw in my lap and pranced around with Nipsy. I was sold. 

Louis' first boat ride. Pure joy. 

It was VERY different getting this little bear housebroken and crate trained compared to housebreaking and crate training the Nipsers. 

I wanna be on you. Never leave me!

He's a gentle giant, but he IS a giant and I had no idea how to train the guy. After our first few weeks, my palms were covered in blisters from hanging onto his leash and getting pulled all over the neighborhood. When I tried to take him into the woods for what I thought would be a walk to burn off some of his puppy energy, this happened:

This story got lots of likes on Facebook. Muah. 

We went to my first ever dog obedience classes, where I learned how NOT to phrase everything to him like a question. I called the teacher my first week in tears because he wasn't listening and she told me to chill out and be patient. After eight weeks, we got it. If we don't practice, I get pulled around the neighborhood, but he's a smart and sweet boy who is eager to please. 

When I say "SIT." instead of "sit?" I get results. 

The best part about Louis is that he and Nipsy behave like a pack. The love is there and even with the crazy age difference of Louis at 2ish and Nipsy at 12ish, they get along like two peas in a pod AND Nipsy is the alpha now. He submits to her and lets her nip at his ears. He keeps Nipsy on her little white paws and I'm glad they've got each other.

He didn't sleep on a bed for his first few weeks, just next to her.

Teaching him about riding on the boat. 

Leaning on Nipsy.

So glad we got this big guy. 

Chest Tummies

Just wanted to write an interaction that occurred between my three-year-old niece and me after Christmas dinner because it makes me smile every time I think about it.

My three-year-old niece had been pressing on my chest and staring at my boobs for almost the whole afternoon of Christmas Day. I get it, I wanted to tell her. They're huge.
        "Aunt Jen, what's in your tummies?" she asked in her little girl voice.
        "Well, we just ate, " I explained, "so my tummy is full of steak!"
        "Noooooooo," she said, "what's in your CHEST TUMMIES?" Then she pulled my shirt down.
        "These?" I asked, pointing at my breasts while holding the neck of my shirt up, since she was trying her hardest to pull it down again, "These are boobs." I pointed at her chest. "You have them too. They'll get bigger when you start growing up."
         My niece stared at me incredulously. She grabbed the neck of her shirt and looked down at her chest. Then she fell back on the couch laughing and screaming, "NOOOOOOOOOO!"
          I started laughing too. "Kid, you have no idea."

30 Day of Yoga is going really well. I'll give you an update this week! 

When I Miss My Dad

Today is always a rough day for me. Luckily, it will probably be over by the time I post this. 

I'm a naturally positive person, so I automatically revert to optimism instead of wallowing in sadness or anger. However, I want to be pissed off for a few sentences. Like many of you, I hate death. I mean, how stupid is it that people--like your dad--can just die without getting to say a simple goodbye to your face right before it happens? It's really just the dumbest thing ever. It makes me shake my fist. Death can be very cruel. Very uncool.  

Instead of writing about what it was like when he died or the difficult months leading up to his death where we were all taking care of him and having lots of Important Talks, I'm going to write about the things that make me feel at ease when I'm missing him. 

1. When I miss my dad, I think about my family. 

 There is my mom (who is giving me away in this pic), my brother (who is also giving me away in this pic), my mom's boyfriend John (who is kindly holding the umbrella), these ladies...

the sisters, 

my half-siblings, Robert, Cathy, and Barbara. My half-brother Robert and his wife Beth are some of my favorite people. 

My family got bigger when I met Nate, which was great because our family was so small. 

I couldn't ask for a better extended family. 

2. When I miss my dad, I listen to music.

Sometimes I play music. I know how much he liked listening to his kids play the piano. 

My addiction to live music (like this Fitz and the Tantrums show from last month) is due to him. 

3. When I miss my dad, I do something active. 

My dad was pretty sick for most of my youth. An oxygen machine wasn't weird to me because it was always around. I want to be healthy, so I try my hardest to be active because he couldn't be. 

I didn't learn how to ride a bike until I was twelve. I'm making up for all of that lost time. And you thought I just liked riding my bike? It's much bigger than that. Muahaha.

4. When I miss my dad, I educate myself by reading or writing or learning something new.

Education was really important to him. 

The 'lil sis got her BA when I got my MA. He would have been super pumped about this. 

Now, would he agree with my view on all things social and political? Probably not, but I would love to have the chance to fight with him about all of it. 

and 5. When I miss my dad, I play my memories like a movie. 

I don't remember his voice anymore, but I remember his stories.

I remember his humor.

I remember when I asked him where we were going in the car how he's always say, "We're going craaaazy." 

I remember him conducting the Saginaw Symphony Orchestra during a Sousa march. 

I remember him tucking us into bed. 

I remember the countless times that I sat in the maroon chair on the other side of his desk. 

There are a lot more memories and I'm so grateful for that. 

Anyway, this Father's Day has been harder than the last few and I'm glad it's officially midnight and Not Father's Day. I don't know why I was especially introspective and sad-sack-esque this year-- things hit us differently at different times depending on the day or hour, right?

Earworm Wednesday: I Love Hannah the Dog

Over the last few months, our beloved Hannah (otherwise known as Hannah-Bear, Hanners, Hanney, Beepers, Sweet Pea, Honey Pie... etc) has been looking and acting old. Like, really old.

Hannah after we got her (and her sweater) in 2003.

I've started accepting that she is, like, really old. When we got Hannah, it was estimated that she was three of four years old. That was almost eleven years ago. According to the estimate, she's about fourteen or fifteen now. I've had family dogs, but Hanners is my first dog. She caught my eye as I wandered around the crates of rescue dogs because she was sitting back on her dog butt like a human and leaning her back against the back of the crate. I was intrigued.

Hannah the young pup begging for attention or food, as per usual. 

When I get home from work, she doesn't run up to the door anymore. In fact, I can stomp in with my loud walk, drop my bag on the ground, call her name-- she still won't get up. I can sneak up to her bed where she'll always be and she won't know I'm there until I rub her lumpy belly, which startles her awake and then she's happy to see me.

Hannah trying to fit into a cat bed because she's too cool for the floor. 

I love her so much that it's comical. I'm not going to speak for the Hubs, but I can bet that he feels the same way. Maybe it's ridiculous, but I don't care. I never thought I'd love a dog so much.

Just look at that face. 

She's getting those old dog lumps everywhere. Her hair is turning white. She takes more pills and vitamins in the morning than I do. Watching my first dog age is really hard and I hate it.

Our old, sweet Hannah basking in the sun few weeks ago.

I've been listening to this Suicide Machines song lately that I first heard in high school. When I heard it, I thought it was a love song. The first verse makes it seem that way, right? 

There's something with the way you walk

There's something there that lights a spark inside of me

And it makes me want to sing - Makes me forget everything

There's something there inside your eyes

Lets me know you'd never lie - You fill me up and I know what you need

Do you know what you mean to me?

Then you keep listening and it gets kind of weird if you still think it's a love song:

Well I watch you sleep sometimes and it feels like the first time

And you're always on my mind - Everyday is like the first day

And I talk to you sometimes even though you never talk back

And I buy you things sometimes 'cause I don't mind

There's something strange, I can't get mad

Even when you're being bad - just look at me, and I forget everything

I try but I can't be mean

You sit by me and I scratch your back

You lick my hands then I get a rash,

But that's okay - Because we, we are a team

You make a mess and then I clean

This song embodies everything I feel about Hannah the Dog. 

She's got it pretty good with us and she knows it. 

P.S. I love good ole' Nipsy the Dog too, but she's still bouncing around like a puppy and she's not making me want to listen to the the aforementioned Suicide Machines song over and over. ;)

Self-Portrait(s) Saturday

This weekend we are out of town visiting family. This means that I am hanging out with the Niece and Nephew AKA The Kids Who Made Me Like Kids.

I've got a series of pictures today for Self-Portrait Saturday:

Hanging on the floor with my dog children. Oh my, I love them so much.

The dogs had a tough week. After years of us knowing that we should invest the money into a dental cleaning, they finally went in for a cleaning (thanks a lot, tax refund) and came home minus some teeth. Let me explain what I mean by "some" teeth. I mean that Hannah (the one in between my legs) had two teeth taken out-- one was broken and one was rotten. Nipsy had SEVENTEEN of thirty-six teeth taken out. The vet said every time he poked one he noticed there was puss coming out of it or the dental tool just sunk right into it. When we rescued Nipsers, we knew that she had been abused, running around homeless, and malnourished.  I had no idea her teeth were so bad and I feel horrible for not getting this taken care of sooner. Poor babe. They are both on soft food while their gums heal. I wonder if Nipsy will be able to eat her regular dry food now that she is missing half of her teeth?

Now for my favorite children on this wonderful Saturday: Niece and Nephew

This Saturday night, we babysat for a few hours and I attempted to put Niece to sleep for the first time. 

I put on my She & Him Pandora station, gave her the bottle her mama left for me, and proceeded to rock her to sleep. It only took ten minutes!

My kid skills are improving. I hope I put her diaper on correctly and Mom and Dad don't wake to pee leaking out of the sides of her diaper. 

After I Googled "how to move a sleeping baby into a crib" and "which side do babies sleep on?" because I really don't know, I got up and just set her into her crib. She curled up into a little ball with her butt sticking up in the air, sighed, and was fine.

Then I spent some time with my lil' bestie, the Nephew:

This is after I resorted to us playing with my iPhone because I was so tired. How are people parents?

This little guy always makes me feel so good about myself. He makes up songs about me, follows me around, laughs at everything I do, and always ensures that someone pulls up a chair for me next to his high chair. Sure, earlier that afternoon we had to work through three meltdowns where he was being cray for no reason, but he still loved us by the end of the night. I like being an aunt.

I'm still not ready to be a parent and I don't know if I'll ever be but I think you just do stuff and you figure it out along the way-- all while hoping that you don't mess up too badly. I'm happy just holding kids, playing with them, making them say silly things, and then giving them back.

I started this post when it was Saturday and now it's Sunday. In light of this motherly post, happy Mother's Day to all pet moms and people moms, but especially to my Mom, mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and the lovely moms-to-be (whether it's a matter of hours, days, or months) in my life.

Hi Mom, thanks for being the strongest.

Three.

Some people may think that three years of marriage doesn't really mean a lot. I think it's something pretty amazing. Marriage is not the effortless ride I was spoon fed by media when I was younger. However, I've got to say that the effort is worth it.

Here is some advice I got over the last few days from couples who have been married for more than 30 years when I asked them the key to a successful marriage:
I work first shift, she works second shift.
Don't take everything so seriously.
Oh the difference a day makes.
Have a sense of humor.

Well... nothing earth shattering there. Maybe that's the key.

Well.

Am I well?

Well, I don't know.

Our niece, Abigail, was born on Tuesday and she is doing well. We are going to see her tomorrow and I can't wait.

One of my students kind of changed my life today. It left me not feeling well about the state of the world.

The students in my 4th hour are not doing well. Half of them failed my class and that's never happened to me in all my years of teaching.

But then there are the other four classes. And they are, well... well?

Sometimes I just want to fall into a well. Not a dank and nasty one, but a nice and calm one.

:)