The Tale of Mr. Twister

Leila V’s story is so damned funny, I am nearly in tears! She did the RIGHT thing.

BF and I have had conversations about shelter dogs, and he’s come up with a theory about them. BF’s theory on shelter dogs sates that they all suffer from at least one of three problems:

1. Too big
2. Too ugly
3. Just plain bad (the politically correct term is “poorly socialized”)

If you’re lucky, you’ll choose one whose only problem is ugly.

There but for the grace of God went our little monster! A pure white, miniature schnauzer I got from the shelter when he was 5 months old. The difference in my story is I was working for the animal shelter at the time!!! I discovered little Mr. Twister when I was taking a group of donors on a tour one evening! It was love at first sight. I swear it was like there was a golden light surrounding his kennel. I had to adopt him.

Then, things all started happening so fast, it was a blur. Next I knew, the little monster was living with BF, me and the cat in our messy little two-bedroom rental. Still, everything had a feeling of unreality to it. I bled $$’s on crates, food, baby gates, treats, toys, shots, micro-chip, collars, leashes, organic pet wipes and sundry other items.

He just got fixed before I took him home, and I guess the male hormones were still surging though the little guy’s system, because every waking minute I was around him, was a battle trying to get him to stop humping my leg, biting or crying. The separation anxiety was like nothing I ever experienced before. I would get in the shower upstairs and I’d hear Mr. Twister crying downstairs the WHOLE time.

The first morning I tried to take him for a walk was an experience I’ll never forget! He pulled and barked and went spastic the whole way out. I turned back in horror and shame and he then performed (a signature “Mr. Twister” move) “I bite your butt.” I dragged him the entire return walk hanging from the back of my jeans and jacket. Mr. Twister likes big butts. It was actually kind of embarrassing at times for BF to take him to dog-park without me. BF NOW tells me, that Mr. Twister always chose the prettiest, young things at the dog park! Perhaps it was a good thing I didn’t know this at the time. “Barbora’s boyfriend and dog ran off with some dog-park skank.” I would have been blameless.

At night, BF and I had to get in bed (NO radio) and lie perfectly still until Mr. Twister stopped crying and whining. If one of us so much as hiccupped, we were doomed to another 45 minutes of whimpering. Then one of us had to get up at 3am and take him on his night walk. At 3am his ear-piercing barks reverberated through the walls of the courtyard. Neighbors would open their windows and yell at us. After one week passed, I remember getting ready for bed, crating the dog and slipping between the sheets and sitting rigid. I began to cry. “What have I done!?!” We discussed stories about how the cat attacked him or how the cat was ailing since we brought Twister home…but No!…none of them rang true.

If I gave him back, my employers, all my coworkers, all the volunteers, donors and board of directors would know what a terrible human being I really was!

Then I got creative! “Oh! It was heartbreaking, how BF’s Mom who was undergoing radiation and chemo at the time bonded with him. It ‘BROKE OUR HEARTS’ to give him up, but he’s given her a new reason to live.” Yada, yada. Meanwhile, BF and I planned how we would take him and drop him off to a different shelter out of state.…

We celebrated Mr. Twister’s 1-Year anniversary with us in April.

We all went to obedience training, and had to enforce rules (admittedly, BF was better at this than I was). At first, every waking-minute, we had to be on high alert. It’s gotten better but we had a bit of trouble when we first arrived in the new house here in Pennsylvania and got lax about letting him sleep in the bed. He started to growl and snap, especially at BF. Bad idea. Rules need to stay consistent. Dogs don’t understand gray areas although they can be pretty darned good with hard and fast rules.

While I was writing this post, Mr. Twister managed to get into the trash can (a feat he’s recently mastered) and has been playing with a Red Zinger teabag. I LOVE this dog. I gotta’ go clean up the mess.

My Bad Self

Yes, I’m up to my bad self lately and right on track with my cycle of hypochondria. I’m in the post-anxiety, relief phase. Give me 5 to 8 months and I will probably be out of my f***ing head, worried about cancer or mad cow disease or flesh-eating bacteria.

Aahh! But, now it’s the relief phase. I’ve stopped taking Prozac for about a week now, because I feel good and begrudge the cost, now that I’m paying for it on my own. It’s expensive!

I know, I should just continue my meds and try to break the cycle.

I’m just so darn happy though! It’s spring. I love being back in Pennsylvania. I love the weather. I love the smell of morning and having my first cup of coffee, barefoot on the porch with the dog. I love the mild evenings. I LOVE working in the yard (much more than housework inside…and unfortunately it shows). I love sawing and chopping and digging and trimming, etc. We’re planting cabbages, peas, lavender, lemon balm, mint and clematis this weekend.

Happy blogging is boring, isn’t it?

Funny...

This is how BF always imagined it would be too!

Simplicity Made Less Simple

I’ve completed my first week of work at Acme, Corp. and am struck by so many different things. Sights, sounds, emotions, etc…I’m on sensory overload. I’m in culture shock. The strangest thing is…in a way; this is how I always imagined it would be!

How to explain?

When I was about 7 or 8 years old and imagined what it would be like to “have a job,” THIS is what I pictured!

The whole experience of elementary school (bell ringing, clearly defined tasks, etc) along with stories my Mom told, the books I read, photos I viewed and episodes of The Flintstones and other sit-coms I watched were all preparing me for THIS.

I’m not sure if it’s an East vs. West Cost thing, or a corporate vs. nonprofit thing, or an hourly vs. salaried thing?

I think in a way, we’re pretty much raised by our parents and teachers to be successful in the world THEY dealt with, as they became adults and entered the workforce. In my case this was the 40’s and 50’s. I was groomed to function well in a 1950’s office setting and wow, I’ve found it!

Although I’m officially a part of the HR Department, most of what I do is administer programs for the Acme, Corp. Foundation. Coming from the begging position, it’s a real pleasure to be on the giving end for a change. I’m an hourly drone, yet those development directors and VP’s of fundraising have to be super polite to me ha ha! Retribution!

I work in a sea of cubicles and am strictly on the clock. I didn’t know I had it in me. In California (in the nonprofit scene at least), working hours were a vague sort of thing. Meetings were unfortunately the same way. Meetings on the West coast used to take up so much of my time, I cringe thinking about it! Everyone showed up somewhere around the meeting time (give or take 15 minutes) then there were the obligatory last cell phone calls, final trips to the restroom and the inevitable posturing and elbowing before the lowest person on the totem pole of meeting attendees had to make the fresh pot of coffee. (One time, I ended up low man on the totem pole. I delighted in handing our overpaid consultant her fresh cup of coffee saying “Here, don’t spill it”).

In my new position, meetings go off like clock-work. I was informed that associates meet every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 8:45 a.m. “Oh no!” I thought, how am I supposed to get any work done…but much to my surprise, everyone marched into the conference room at 8:44 and marched out at 9:00. We also clock in no more than 7 minutes prior to our shift and clock out no later than 1 minute past our shift. I didn’t know this was even possible, prior to last week, now I’m surprised that I like it as much as I do.

Most of all I LOVE leaving it all behind at precisely 5:00 pm.! I go home and think entire of my own stuff. I drive into work singing along to the local rock station (as opposed to grinding my teeth and living out each possible thing that could go wrong that day).

Our headquarters and distribution center look like they were built in the 50’s (although they were really built in the early 90’s). Even the corporate logo has this old fashioned (Acme Corp. goes WAY back) sensibility.

I don't actually have to use a typewriter like the one in the picture above. We use PC's...although some of the database software is shall we say vintage.

What’s Your Favorite Drinking Holiday?

Happy Kentucky Derby Day Everyone!

Gotta’ say this is one of my favorites’s of the year…right up there with St. Patrick’s Day.

On Kentucky Derby Day, BF makes his favorite recipe for mint julep. They’re VERY sweet and VERY strong.

I hand picked the mint this morning in my Mom’s back yard! This year, as an added bonus, our neighbor came over and had a julep with us! I always wear my big hat.

I can’t believe Yahoo Cooking had a video online for making simple syrup.. duhh?? You boil sugar and water together. How difficult is that?!?

Simplicity

I’ve completed my first week of work at "Acme, Corp." and am struck by so many different things.

Sights, sounds, emotions, etc…I’m on sensory overload. I’m in culture shock.

nn

The strangest thing is…in a way, this is how I always imagined it would be!

Vitamin D

Wow! You’ve got to check out the latest study on Vitamin D and cancer prevention – “twice the impact on cancer attributed to smoking”!

I am so there.