I’ve finally figured out what will help me slow down a smidgen with everything: work, ambition, volunteering, skill-building, catching-up with friends (an endless task, not to sound like a douche monkey).
I’m getting a puppy. The puppy that I so secretly added into one of my older posts but never correctly identified as MINE AND COMING HOME IN 2 WEEKS.
But she is, and she is!
My e-friends, this is:
Rumi
Yes, she is named after this Sufi/Persian poet. Yes, his poetry is mind-blowing. Yes, I am using a “boy’s name” for a girl pup. And yes, she will be my little muse. /end of insightful but cheesy explanations/
She is a cockapoo (or, in angry dog forums, a cocker spaniel/poodle mix) who I’m getting from a shelter in Canada. She is the most adorable thing on this earth and I might shank you if you suggest otherwise. I am very much into animal rights activism and support all the lovely people who promote a sustainable, healthy, vegan lifestyle. In fact, the idea to get a dog like Rumi from a shelter came from the one and only Bessy Gatto – her elderly shelter pooch looks a lot like mine, although she may grow out of it. I’m very proud to adopt a dog from a shelter and strongly advise to all of you – adopt, don’t shop!
As per the rules that dictate my neurotic personality state, I’ve been going into puppy-research-overdrive. So far, the only thing I’ve managed to spend money on is a few toys, whereas everything else is yet unpurchased.
I’ve been doing extensive research on everything from insurance (PetPlan, COME TO CANADA SOONER), to crates, to crate-training, to nutrition and grooming products. I want the best, but I am a facking student, so I’m making concessions and asking for discounts when I can. Next on my list is a pet cam – so I can watch her longingly while feeling eternal guilt that I’m out. Visit thegadgetnerds.com and you can experience the guilt with your pooch too – why should I suffer alone?
However, all of this is mainly useless to you, dear readers. What will become paramount is that I will be very busy with the new babe and don’t know how often I’ll be able to update. But I will work pictures in often, I assume, just based on the fact of how much I think about this dog after having met her twice. If I reacted this way with a potential boy who I would like to possibly date long term, he would run screaming the other way and leave shards of broken glass in his wake.
But dogs love that sorta shit.
So here’s hoping I’ll be a good pet mama (I will, but ermahgerd is it nerve-wracking), and will eventually quit stressing over my resume in lieu of pee and poo everywhere and anywhere in my bedroom under my expecting morning feet.
Ah, the choices we make.
POEM
everyone wants to be
the exception, but
nobody wants to be
made an example of.
you want to be the survival
rate.
you don’t want to be
the story mothers
talk about with
gulps seeded in their bellies,
with tears pooling in their mouths,
briney and wet.
everyone’s love
should last like love locks,
like reckless abandon
and a 5 dollar mechanism
that makes your ethereal
immortal.
but even love locks
get land locked,
become weighted by
the unbearable lightness
of burden,
and the keys,
the keys swim
because your eternity
still needs a chance.