June 1, 2006

It never gets and less silly looking. Or any less traumatizing.

Only one cat-bite this time, and no falling off the cutting table/ strangulation by elizabethan collar / resulting in groomer swallowing mouthful of fluffy hair and thus choking/ while holding sharp instruments.

So I'd call it a success. The cat yowled like a biaatch this time though. And she kept using my ass like some sort of escape hatch except it isn't an escape hatch, it's an ass.

So if you get one half-shaved white cat tied to a table trying to claw her way desperately around your hips, hips you are using to try and keep said cat under the aegis of the groomers pet-shave 3000 gripped in carefully leathered-up forearms... Well, it's ugly. I felt like I was wearing an extremely loud fur belt.

But really no complaints here, just less cat hair and a little less solidarity for a day or two until the Stinkinator gets over her humiliation.

Oh yeah, weirdly enough when Stanky and I were leaving for the groomers Lola lost her shit, stood on the balcony barking and carrying on, I think she thought we were totally scramming.

Little did I know that my dogs sense of familial well-being relies on a mean and anti-social white cat that doesn't really like anyone, least of all the dog.

It's a fragile ecosystem over here folks, fragile indeedy.

April 3, 2006

I don't even feel like writing really I just want everyone in the loop. Lola is going blind. She tried to chase a garbage bag up a tree today. Or do what amounts to a chase for her now, since her two back legs seem to have given up the ghost. Oh yeah, and she has a bladder infection which may indicate something called Cushings disease.

The last time we spoke to the vet he actually sat down to talk to us. I am taking that as a bad sign.

I went to the bank to figure out why they had frozen all my bank accounts (it had to do with getting all my money from clients outside Quebec..) At some point during the conversation with Giselle Mangemesculottes the manager who refused to unfreeze even the Ontario cheques so I could pay for the dogs multiple blood tests and also eat, I believe I started to cry and then said in godawful french: "En fait mon chien est malade, j'ai trop sure mon carte de credit pour payer le veterinaire, en plus je peut pas acheter les nouriture! Qu'est ce que vous vont faire pour moi?"

I think the tears disarmed them and the manager left and came back and handed me three hundred dollars in cash, as if they were giving me an allowance. I told them I wasn't used to begging for my own money and biked up to the TD bank where an incredibly friendly investment counsellor named Nektarios gave me a cappucinno and agreed that the least they could of done was offer me a kleenex.

I almost wanted to date Nektarios. He laughed at all my jokes, made me feel safe and secure and had very nice hands. He also finally explained the mystery of GIC/mutual funds/ stocks and also your basic mortgage amount in about 15 minutes. I realize that this is all a ploy to get me to invest with TD, but hey, as Stevie Nicks would sing: " Tell me lies tell me sweet little lies... " Oh yeah did I mention he got me coffee.. I am such an easy touch.

At some point in our conversation, I distinctly remember saying "You are talking about people who feel like they have power over their money. I think I belong in the opposite group." He laughed really hard at that.

update

In "Everything is Illuminated" the Ukrainian tour guide Alex writes :

Mother is a humble woman. Very very humble. She toils at a small cafe one hour distance from our home. She presents food and drink to customers there, and says to me," I mount the autobus for an hour to work all day doing things I hate. You want to know why? It is for you, Alexi-stop-spleening-me! One day you will do things for me that you hate. That it what it means to be a family."

I would like to amend that quote to include. One day you will receive email forwards with pictures of puppies or boring knock-knock jokes which you hate, but you will read them anyways, that is what it means to be a family.

If my dad or my aunt read this I am totally getting disowned.

February 24, 2006

Added to the list of food Lola has eaten while I wasn't looking (up the street buying a bottle of ed wine).

Notable, the dog slinks while I am yelling at her literally tiptoes around. But her eyes show no remorse. Not a bit.

February 7, 2006

woke -up

walked dog

felt feverish

went to class

got angry at indiscriminate use of the term "Information Super Highway"

felt nauseous

bought a mint tea

waited for shuttle bus

got on shuttle bus

bus-driver stopped me said I couldn't bring tea on bus.

went outside tosseed full cup of steaming tea in garbage got back on bus

sat next to girl with cowboy boots and designer sweatpants.

Watched another girl with a re-usable travel mug full of tea enter and sit on the bus unaccosted.

listened to WOO! by vitalic watched the city under expressway felt dizzy.

went to therapy brought therapist to second cup bought another tea.

Went to a meeting bought final cup of tea.

Stopped at IGA bought two cans of campbells herbed chicken noodle soup.

Opened one can heated and ate contents as instructed on label.

Upon reciept of new emails learned that there has been a cheque for four hundred dollars sitting in an envelope in my recyle bin all week. As of yesterday morning the cheque has moved to a recycling depot in lasalle.

Fell asleep on couch trying to read.

Drooled awkwardly on pillow while emails about work piled up unanswered and my laundry stayed dirty.

going back to sleep now - blogging has taken last iota of will.

the living thing in my care in this instance is myself.

January 29, 2006

The dog ate an entire bag of chocolate almonds today.

I think she also ate part of the bag.

I mistook her guilt for loneliness until I found the bag peices under the couch.

MWAAHHHHHH AHA AHAHA HAAA !!!!!!!!

If only *I* had finished the bag last night - but I was going to save them and make them last.

What else has the dog eaten that she was not supposed to;

- a sweater (at 6 months)

- a teddy bear ( also at six months)

- a tub of margerine ( I discovered this when I found the lid and then later an empty margerine tub behind the sofa)

- an entire bag of oliebollen (dutch donuts, literal translation oilballs)

- a baguette (also the bag)

- a piece of barbequed chicken off my plate

- *new* an entire bag of chocolate almonds

October 21, 2005

Watch out I am so hot in this picture that Hasan Ali from the United Arab Emirates wants to be my tour guide.

That's what I hate about web 2.0 it's nothing but a giant new opportunity for personalized spam. (what am I again, oh that's right, a niche market of one.)

Seriously you know who's hot in this picture, my dog. Lola, she's the one with the determined begging face there.

Lauren says the conversation taking place in the picture is like this;

Lola: Barooohhhh..
Me: no I am sorry doodee it's not treat time we just woke up.
Lola: Marrooooo iiiiiiarroooff
Me: well asking like that won't get you anywhere - Let's all sit here nice for a picture okay?
Lola: mawooof woof grrrlllglle grr...
me: No, no no. No treats okay?! Now be dollface and look at the camera.

Anyways. This here's my cute dog

October 11, 2005

Oh god, the dog who is sleeping next to my desk totally just passed wind. I was about to write a post about the delicate interspecies harmony chez nous, but I think I will hold off on that until the air clears.

Seriously, recent conversion to Buddhism aside, this hasn't been the best week on earth.

Lately I've been sleeping on the couch, to try and deal with annoying insomnia, and the past two nights I have been joined by both both my furry friends. The dog sleeps at the foot of the couch, and the cat stays at the head, about as far from the dog as she can get while remaining on the couch.

It's pretty funny.

There's obviously an ecosystem in development here and I am the sad sack help-meet of first the cat, and second the dog.

The cat is obviously the top rung of the ladder because she was on the couch as a form of protest (against the dog) and eventually I caved and went to sleep on the couch, and because the dog is like my shadow, she had to cave too.

Now I have to get the whole zoo back into their normal habits which are; dog sleeps on *dog -bed*, cat sleeps on my bed but down near my feet, I also sleep in my bed, and I sleep I don't tossa round or read or eat cereal or cut my nails or imagine fantastic karaoke parties filled with Journey songs.

I am apparently not exactly spot-on as far as discipline is concerned so the whole thing is a little out of my reach at this point.

Plus I have turned the dog into an expensive dental treat addict - and I can't afford that. So I had to go to the market today and ask for a giant bag of what basically constitutes offal. Later when I am not busy trying to make a poster about happiness (of all things) I am going to try and home-bake some mutt jerky.

It's not really a life I can say I wholeheartedly endorse, but being a slave to some four-legged friends while nursing a wounded heart is okay, if you just get into it.

The dog just farted to signal the end of this heartwarming entry - she's really gross sometimes, I should totally not feed her human food or let her sleep on the bed. This is anarchy plain and simple.

September 13, 2005

I feel like such a shitsmear.

Years of devoted shedding on all my black clothing, sleeping on my bed even with other people in it. Puking in wierd places so I don't find it until months later and mostly being all sarcastic and wtf the way cats are supposed to be..
And now she has mega-wtf'ed me, and just taken off..

I love my puppy but this is really not a nice thing to do to my cat...

September 12, 2005

So yeah.

After five hours on the train and some negotiating with the brother I am the porud owner of my old dog Lola.

Boy she smells doggy. Apparently she loves to be bathed, so the means to solving that problem are my disposal.

Unfortunately I think the cat is now officially pissed off as all hell and has disapeared. I hope her dander isnt so far up that she never returns. I hope she settles for trying to move in with Kit the neighbour and then I can somehow woo her back.

I wento the craziest wedding in Toronto, but before I get into that story, I would like to say that I heard this great line in one of the wedding speeches (I know , it's not really where one would expect to hear these things.)

"Live each day like you are writing a page in your biography, not a line on your CV."

It's given me much to ponder.

So.. on to the wedding.

August 3, 2005

I talked to my bro on the phone from my hotel room.

He reminded me that one reason I had planned to visit toronto was to pick up the dog. It's my year for the dog.

I will have to arrange the delivery etc. but sometime in the next month Lola and I will be reunited.

And the cat is going to have a freak attack.

Last night was kind if depressing once I ran out of organic bridge mix and realized that hotel rooms are like sociopathic living spaces.

It's nice to wake-up to the reminder of impending dog-adoption. It can't be all bad.

June 3, 2005

So I have this problem with three of my houseplants.

I don't know what they are called, one is leggy and has wide delicate leaves, the other is a mini-palm, and the last has heavy spatulate purple leaves, more like platters on stems.

Anyways, they were all sitting on a bookshelf in my hallway and back in April when the good weather started I thought in my loving-plants kind of way that they would much prefer to spend some time on my balcony. Except it got very cold when the sun went down and I practically killed them overnight.

Oops. So then they went back on the shelf. And yesterday when the even better weather came I thought; I know, I'll make up for having almost frozen you all to little stumps. I'll put you outside to soak up the good warm sun.

Double oops, because when I got back from my trip to Blue Monday for lunch they were all turning a dusky brown sun-burned leaf colour and looking even worse than they had when they had been quietly recovering on their own terms on the shelf.

So I wonder how I appear to my poor little plants. I am a normal if somewhat absent minded waterer for months and then one day I begin a perplexing regime of alternately freezing them and then trying to immoliate them.

The worst thing is that these extremes of behaviour are motivated only by the purest affection and love. I feel so awful, I must remember where straggly plants are concerned that love is above all things patient and that my balcony is more like being stranded in the desert than any kind of holiday in the sun.

Also I guess I should try to moderate the extremes I will go to demonstrate my love for the various living beings in my life. Perhaps that is the larger lesson, everything in moderation.