PNewL PNewS
Volume 23 No. 3 “All the pnews that phits.” August
2015
I am a Foster
Mom
For dogs, that is. And okay, so I have
only done it twice. And one of those times pushed me to the limits. But I love
it. I love having the new personality in the house, a different energy even
when it is too much. I like seeing how Roger takes them under his wing and
bounces off of them, literally and figuratively. And I
like that they go away.
I signed up for the fostering emails in
the early spring and was amazed by the numbers of animals either living here or
coming through who need a temporary place to land. Turns out a lot of unwanted
animals come through this area from the Deep South to New England where there
are fewer strays, as they are better about “fixing” their animals.
After I watched the emails for a while, I
noticed that there were short term fosters—two weeks generally —so an animal has
time to get its shots up to date or to get fixed before it is released into the
shelter population or is readied for “transport” north. This was how Roger and
I would participate, perfect for us short attention span folks.
The first character we hosted was Bam-Bam, a
self-confident adult Chihuahua. He was hilarious. He and Roger got along
famously. Bam-Bam could rough house and run with the big dogs. He was very
smart and very fast. One day, Chris and I were talking as she was preparing to
go out. She locked up the house and drove off and I went looking for Bam-Bam.
Nowhere to be found. In the two hours I spent looking for him, I had a string
of disaster scenarios going through my mind. I had signed a piece of paper that
said I would always have him on a leash. Oops. The E.D. of the Shelter chose
Bam-Bam personally for her uncle. This was bad. I live in the woods, which are
filled with critters that just might find a little dog to be a nice snack. I
was shaken and kicking myself and…then the phone rang. Sculley, Chris’s
husband, asked if Bam-Bam was supposed to be in their house. Amazingly, he
scooted in as Chris was locking up and neither of us saw him do it.
I feel heartless sometimes when I tell
people I do this and so far have not wished the pup would stay. I know I don’t
want a permanent second dog—to board, and keep healthy and feed—but I do kinda
want one and for two weeks, it’s perfect. When I took Bam-Bam back to the
shelter for his ride north, I told him what was going to happen and that at the
end of the ride, he would have his new “forever” home. When I handed him to the
shelter person, he looked at me as if to say, “But I thought this was my forever home.” Unexpectedly,
I started to cry. It was brief. He’d be fine.
Foster #2 was a terror. I called him Mikey
because I have Roger and a Michael/Mikey made a movie called Roger & Me. It
fit. And I think he even looked like a Mikey. He was a three-month-old boy they
said was a border collie mix. He had more energy than anyone like me should
ever have to deal with. We now have a very strong NO PUPPY policy. I knew I
shouldn’t do it when I got him – and really I wasn’t supposed to get a puppy
but they were placing a lot of dogs that day and the poor woman needed someone
to take this puppy. Two weeks can’t be that bad, right? Yeah, it can. When I
finally realized I would be more comfortable if I always had a chew toy of some
sort on hand, I solved part of the problem but it seemed no matter how many
things I was shoving in his mouth, flesh was really his preference. He also has
a bit of a food aggression problem. He sounds like something out of The
Exorcist if you get near his food dish. Hard to believe something that small
and sweet looking could sound that evil. And he harassed Roger constantly and
Roger didn’t like it…and he likes almost all dogs. But Mikey was also cute and
funny and he is super smart so my feeling is he will be a great dog soon.
Dropping him off at the end of two weeks
was not as hard but I still had tears well up. He was so little and so forlorn,
but I heard the next day he had been adopted by a couple who had seen him
online and fallen in love. I wish them all the best.
I have learned something with each
experience and I look forward to the next one. Just no puppies!
Things I am
Learning
&
Miscellaneous Observations
• Sometimes the light bulb
takes a while to come on. It just occurred to me that I can buy yarn faster
than I can knit it. For that matter, that applies to most of my hobbies. Buying
yarn, fabric, books etc. takes a fraction of the time it takes them to be used
up.
•
Sara and I were on Perles Beach on Angel Island after the all day picnic. It
was no longer hot. Clouds, wind (not to mention sand and very cold salt water).
Two friends had just gotten in the water and were enticing two others, who
followed them and then they suggested Sara and I join them. We looked at each
other. Uh-uh. Somehow that morphed into how much someone would have to pay us
to get in the water at 5pm with another night of camping ahead and no shower on
the island. As the number got higher and higher, I think it was Sara said she
might consider it if someone would take a few things off her to do list, like
figuring out which car she should buy. Yep. If someone would get the doublewide
ready for tenants, I would jump in that water so fast. Alas, no one volunteered
to do either and we stayed dry and warm and salt-free.
•
Oh no: it’s back to school sales time and notebooks are SO cheap. Keep me away.
•
My house has finally reached the age (11) when things are starting to break or
just plain wear out. Let’s pretend this is the fun part.
• I
have been stung by a bee, cleaned up puppy pee while the puppy chewed on my
feet with needle teeth, had my teeth attacked by three sadists (two dental
assistants and a dentist) and it’s only 10:22. Not the world’s perfect Monday.
• I
just unsubscribed from an online list I didn’t subscribe to. An email
confirmation says it will take 30 days for removal. What’s the computer doing
for all that time?
•
Does anyone have a dog who does not think
that when you go into the kitchen it is for their enjoyment and fulfillment? I
don’t and never have. When I break my hip, I believe it will be stumbling over
a dog who thinks it is suppertime, no matter what time it is.
•
Playing with mosaics means every broken dish has the potential to inspire a
project. But wait, universe! Stop breaking my stuff! Today, Roger knocked his
bowl onto a heavier-dutier bowl and it broke. Then I poured coffee into a brand
new mug (purchased at a local craft fair) and the bottom fell out (thankfully
into the sink). This was all before breakfast was over.
•
Today I was whizzing the BBQ sauce when the whizzer, a Braun…I think they call
them immersible blenders…that I bought at the Goodwill in San Anselmo with
Karen 15+ years ago started making the oddest noise. One might assume that at
this gadget’s age, it didn’t owe me anything but I am sad. This is a very handy
tool in my kitchen. It reminds me that the bowl of the Cuisinart my mother gave
me shortly after I graduated from college is cracked and a few steps away from
crumbling. I actually wondered if perhaps it is too late in life to buy a new
food processor. Loveeta says I should just buy it and if I die soon, it will
make someone really happy at a great garage sale. I still wonder. (Later: I
told Sydney this story and she nodded through it—she had the same experience
and just bought a new one. Guess it’s my turn.)
•
People often marvel at the, from their perspective, tedious crafts I take part
in. Quilting…knitting…it’s so much work. I always say it’s cheaper than
therapy…and I like it. Then I went to the nursery in Swannanoa and bought some
plants from the nice man. He said if I deadheaded the flowers I would have a
robust plant that will flower all summer. Deadhead? Now there’s tedium for you.
I have tried to get a little zen doing it but I do find if anything looks just
a wee bit wilty, off with your head! I am not going to be out here everyday
plucking these suckers apart. It takes me long enough to find the clippers…
• I
live in the land of unreturned phone calls and emails. I diligently email
organizations, businesses, individuals, and eagerly await responses. Nada! Of
course, as I am writing this, I am reminded that I have a bad track record for
returning phone calls. I will change my evil ways, or I will try, as it is annoying.
Sorry.
• I
want a new car. I am very attached to my current car as it belonged to my dad
and he bought it kinda in honor of my mother (one of his friends called it the
Frannie-mobile), but it’s getting to that
age when I am afraid it will start letting me down. And it recently
occurred to me that I have had four cars in my life and I still own two of
them. It just might be time.
• I
read an interesting article about aging and baby boomers in the local paper.
One statistic knocked my socks off: In 1900, approx. 100,000 Americans lived to
be 85. 2010? Approx. 5.5 million, and
by 2050: they’re projecting 19 million. (“they” being the US Administration for
Community Living, part of the Dept of
Health and Human Services.) The article is about a guy who is helping
caregivers and everyone else look at the realities of aging and what we want
that to look like should we need care outside the home—he wants to change the
culture of nursing homes. (In the one where he was meeting a group of
residents, the staff didn’t tell residents when someone died…they only knew
about it because beds were being moved around. Wow.) When most people are asked
if they think they will ever wind up in a nursing home or using a wheelchair or
having dementia, they say no. Something to think about.
•
When last I wrote this pnewsletter, I
was leaving for my 40th high school reunion. It seems like so long
ago now. It was one of those events that was long in coming and went by in a
heartbeat. Great to see everybody and wonderful to see how we are aging so
gracefully. I just want y’all to notice: I mentioned the reunion okay? Just
because I didn’t cover previous mini-reunions in Maine…with Laurie and Ann and
MB and…oh shoot…am I missing someone??? Don’t wanna forget anyone or anything!
It is always a wonderful time when hanging
out with people we have known for so long.
• On the way
home from the library, I stopped in at the vet to pick up something and at the
corner market for a salty snack. When I left the latter (cartons of cigarettes
are now $59.26? Remarkable.), I realized I had had two very friendly small talk
kind of conversations that I don’t usually have and say I am unable to have. I
was kind of proud of myself. Then I drove 35 miles an hour behind someone who
was apparently very afraid of our roads as the speed limit is between 45 and
55. Suddenly I did not feel so friendly.
“For some reason, I never
found my way to the path called normal.” Michael Moore
