Zoe

Zoe passed on Sunday. Cue the song Spencer and I have been singing since.

 

In all seriousness though, we're hurting at home.  I'm sad because aside from being an amazing dog, Zoe was a piece of mom, a piece of Galena that had been in our family more than 10 years.  Spencer's sad because she was his first dog, the first dog he really bonded with.

In the months before her passing we both bonded with her even more.  She needed three different heart medications two times a day.  I gave her them at 11 am.  Spencer did the 11 pm duty.  Constant pills meant constant treats, and the ability to train my little 'piss monster.'  She learned to sit, to lay down.  Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?  Spencer and I also started crating her when we left the house, making us love her even more as we didn't find surprises everywhere when we returned.

The night before her passing Spencer gave her a bath for the first time.  Wish I had taken a picture of him gently washing her as she stood calmly, looking like a little rat.  In her final day we took her gardening.  So appropriate.  Mom gardened the day she passed too.  She wore her little pink coat from Spencer's mom and sat beside us patiently.   All day Sunday Spencer kept saying 'She's not looking good.'  By midday, she wouldn't eat her treats.  And by 5 pm she was hiding under our bed, ready to die.  Spencer found her, we brought her up to our bed and discussed her breathing, how bad it had gotten, whether we should put her down.  And in the next 30-45 minutes she made the call for us.  Her little tongue hung out further, started to turn blue, and she just laid down.  Soon after she wet our bed, and it was clear it was time.  We wrapped her in a towel and cuddled her, telling her we loved her.  It was really an intimate moment, and more than anything, I'm so glad we were both there for her.

We'll get another dog eventually.  But I want to wait.  I've put her crate by the attic door, along with the little steps we bought so she could hop up on our bed.  I realize she's just a dog.  And I realize, others are mourning for far more important reasons right now.  Just wanted to make note though of her passing.

Bingo Bango Bongo

As Spencer and I drove to 'Hanna's Haunted Acres' last night he was full of song (as usual).  The song he chose this time though, oddly familiar.  "Bingo Bango Bongo, I don't want to leave the jungle.  I refuse to go," he sang.  Bingo Bango Bongo.  My mom used to say that all the time.  She'd clap her hands together and say loudly, in a silly way, "Bingo Bango Bongo, would you like to go to the Congo?"  I always thought it was a phrase she made up, purely out of rhyming.  Thanks to Spencer, and a video game that it turns out drilled the song into his head, I now know my mom was projecting altered lyrics of an Andrews Sisters song.  A piece of my mom, and my childhood, I never fully got, being explained.
'Civilization' by the Andrews Sisters has since become our song for the last 12 hours.  Spencer hooked up with his computer speakers, and as I sat downstairs reading this morning, I heard him blasting it upstairs in our office.

Now some randomness.  First, let me brag about how amazing Indianapolis's downtown library is.  Six floors of anything, and everything you can imagine, about a mile from our home.  Glad I didn't wait to check it out.

 

And some cute pet photos.  Zoe in wrap-around shades Spencer found among his belongings.  Livey, thinking she's hiding as usual, as she sits in a small open box in the middle of the living room.  And a photo of the cats in the kitchen, gathered around me shortly after I got home from work the other morning.

Sick Dog

Zoe's sick.  Pooping blood.  Pooping everywhere, really.  My poor doggie.  She'll be ten this October and I can't help but think that between her heart murmur and deteriorating teeth, she doesn't have long.  The vet prescribed her some meds and is doing some tests.  So we wait to figure out what's wrong.

In the meantime, I'm keeping a very close eye on her.  If I leave the room for a moment, she drops one. So everywhere I go, she goes.  If I leave a room I call her to follow, constantly glancing behind me to make sure she hasn't ruined my floor.

I am leaving her alone during work hours, in her crate, of course.  The destruction she's able to create while in it, amazes me.

But I love her.  I cried as I drove her to the vet Tuesday.  Realizing, this little dog has been with me since I was 17.  She's a piece of my family that was.  Of Galena.  Of my parents still together.  Of mom.

Oh Zoe.  Get better.

The terrified face of a dog at the vet.

My Life Lately:

The crate saga continues.  Twice in the past week she's left a surprise for me, in the crate and inevitably on her.  This particular picture is of a day she amazed me by someone removing the tray that had been latched both underneath, and within her crate.



Super happy at the new job.  Still getting a grasp of everything, started on air this week, working when most people are sleeping: 11pm to 8am.

Got together with the Galena girls for a reunion in Chicago.  Awesome to see them, and to finally grab a drink at the Violet Hour in Wicker Park (which we're standing in front of in the photo).

And my home.  Indianapolis.  Still unpacking and waiting eagerly for Spencer to move in within the next month.

Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks

Six days until the big move.  Budget truck booked, movers scheduled, utilities ordered to be shut off/turned on, address changed set up...now I just have to crate train Zoe.  I refuse to let her use my new home as a literal dumping ground.  Bought a crate yesterday, had her sleep in it last night, and got no sleep.  She cried all night.  All night.  The crate was in my bedroom, where her 'bed' normally is.  Around 3 am I set it on top of a box and scooted her so she was right beside the bed, at eye level with me.  The throaty whines and cries continued.  I rested my hand in the cage, hoping to sleep that way, and relax her a little.  The cries continued.  I finally settled on ear plugs.

Goodbye Pink Rug

I've had the rug 8 years.  Bought it at IKEA with my mom to put in my dorm room at the University Center.  A new rug for a new year, a new dorm building (the first year the building opened) and a new job (I was a resident advisor).  It's just an object, but one with lots of memories.  There were singalongs with Millie and Dianne in the dorm room, they'd sit on the rug as I played guitar from my bed.  I remember lint rolling the entire surface whenever it needed cleaning throughout college because I didn't have a vacuum.  All those years and I never took a proper photo of the multi-pink-colored thing.  Probably because, as I said, it's just an object. 

An object, Zoe, my little piss monster, managed to ruin in the 10 months I've given her access to it.  Numerous 'mistakes' have destroyed the rug.  Cleaning it?  It's beyond that.  And so today, I didn't feel the least bit sentimental as I pulled it out from beneath the furniture, balled it up, and rushed out to the dumpster, carrying it away from my body so as to avoid any contact. 

 I actually think my office area looks better now.  Just hoping some poor dumpster diver doesn't dig it out thinking they've found a gem. 

There will be another rug in that dumpster soon enough.  Tonight, right before sitting down at the computer, I walked across the only rug left in my home (I don't even keep bathmats anymore) and felt a damp spot.  The piss monster strikes again.

Memorable Memorial Day Weekend

My three day weekend, if an unemployed person indeed has weekends, was made up of drinking, families, and installing air conditioners. Well, actually just one air conditioner, but it was such a pain in the ass it counts for several.

Spencer loaded the eight-ton machine into my bedroom window last night. As he lugged it around, apparently the main control knob snapped off. And not in the we'll-just-use-a-screw-driver way. There was a bottomless hole where a previously broken knob had already been.

And so the troubleshooting. We poke and probbed. Undid screws. Searched the floor for the missing piece (which I'm certain I must have swept up shortly after it was dropped). Sat in front of the air conditioner, drinking High Lifes, wondering what the heck to do next. The solution: to glue a screw several inches back in the a/c where the knob originated...and to spend the night in Spencer's air conditioned apartment.


Turns out craft glue, a screw, and a night of drying worked.  This morning I turned the screw with some plyers, affectively turning on the a/c shortly before the glue gave out and the screw snapped out.  It will, of course, now be stuck on the same setting and turned on and off through plugging and unplugging it.  But I have my air conditioner back!

Spencer worked his butt off to make it happen, and the same night installed a new computer keyboard for me, which he ordered online himself.  And so, an adorable photo of him, hard at work, as Emma looks on lovingly.

Keeping up with Memorial Day fashion, I wore a dress for the first time of the season.  Wore a dress on two different occasions actually.  So many people were surprised to see me show leg, and complimented me, that I went out and bought a couple more summer skirts/dresses.  I was also inspired by the last minute plane ticket I bought to Vegas.  Going in two weeks and would like to leave the jeans at home.

Other revelations this weekend: 

• Shuffle board is a blast.  Yes, I said blast.  Played some version of it at Nick's Beer Garden in Wicker Park.  Way easier than pool to pick up, and so, it gets a thumbs up.
• Spencer was a hot 18-year-old.  When we visited his parents on Memorial Day I mentioned I hadn't seen any photos of him from his past.  His dad then dug up the ten-year-old photo files on the computer, initiating a walk down memory lane for Spencer and his parents.  We sat and looked at photos together for a while.
• I can get through a night at a 'douchie' bar as long as there are music videos on the TVs.  Went to Mad River in Lincoln Park, a crowded, pop-collared kinda place, to celebrate the birthday of someone I don't know.  But had fun, thanks to the loud music, all of which accompanied a video that was airing on atleast 30 TVs throughout the bar.  I basically felt like I was hanging out with Rihanna, Drake, and Nicki Minaj.

Alright that's all.  Closing on a sequence of 'waking-up-zoe' photos...