dogs left

Tonight I’m all wound up.  Coiled and tense because my dogs got out of the fence and I can’t find them.  Whaah.  It may come out in my writing.  We’ll see.

ok.  I can’t.  sorry folks.  off to take a xanax.  there is a time for everything.  keep on.

25 thoughts on “dogs left

  1. I hope you find your dogs. How awful! Surely they will remember from whence they came and return to you safely and soon! I hope they don’t get into mischief. I understand how you feel. I think they’ll come back after their freedom fling. Blessings to you…

  2. Dear readers, it seems that our heroin is having quite a night. As she so brilliantly states, “there is a time for everything.” Many of you may have noticed that I frequently like to give DQ a bit of irreverent feedback and perhaps even pick on her a bit. Upon reading her brief post tonight, I can almost feel her pain and distress as she searches frantically for the beloved family pets. Am I moved to sorrow and empathy? Of course not… This is too good to pass up. From the woman that brought us the gripping drama of a flooded basement (the only basement in California), tales of the mini-van, a tribute to Lebanese mothers, and commentary so bold that even the French were offended… we now have medicated psychiatrist chasing dogs. WTF? (What The Freud, for our new readers) This is what makes her so great! She keeps it “real”. Can anyone imagine Dr. Phil cutting off the show after the intro because he has to go chase down the dogs? Of course not! He is too busy doing dumb things to get higher ratings. While Q is out pursuing the family pets in a peculiarly non-anxious manner, Dr. Phil is trying to get Ted Williams sober. Phil, it’s called Al-anon — go to it! There are lot’s of people there that are dealing with the fact that you can’t get someone else sober better than you are. The only reason I even noticed this story is because Ted Williams was also a famous baseball player who’s head was criogenically frozen upon his death. Bringing Ted Williams head back to life would be truly amazing… I would watch it. Tune in tomorrow when we shall all hear the tales of the Midwest cowgirl and drama of the fleaing dogs. (I spelled it wrong on purpose because some people will get it and think it is really funny)

  3. I hope you find your dogs. I’ve been there, years ago with both of our dogs, one dog with a good outcome, the other dog not. So, my heart aches for you as you wait for family to return. Yes, our pets are family.

  4. I’m sorry. I’m trying to understand Rick’s sense of humor and I can’t. I find it to be sarcasm and insensitivity…and I grew up with that and it hurts.

    I hope that you find your pets, Sana. I have no doubt that they are a precious part of your family, and anyone who has had a pet and lost it (even it eventually was found and was safe) knows the pain that you are going through. I’m sure it doesn’t help that your children are upset, too. Helping your children get through the hurt is more difficult than getting through it yourself. You must know that we all care very much about you and what you are suffering tonight. I pray that the dogs are found safe; I pray that the Xanax works; I pray for your family. Keep on, Sana.

  5. I need to apologize to Rick. My reaction to your comments was a knee jerk one born of the pain of my childhood. I know that this blog is for all of us – to express ourselves in whatever way we wish. I had no right to judge you or your writing. I want to believe that you care between the words or the lines. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be responding as you do. Please forgive my insensitivity.

    • Thanks Nancy… there is no need. I frequently offend myself. I have found that kneejerk reactions can often be the most honest and sincere. The funny part…. It was the dogs that asked me to post. They have admitted that they were wrong to runaway. They are eagerly awaiting their new training and electro therapy. Also… They do not like Dr. Phil.

      • Sugar Rick? What a fine name you have chosen. Oh well, I guess I am due some type of retribution. Nancy… your response made me think quite a bit as to why I am often sarcastic and that other word (as Q indicated… I am prone to forgetting). The thought that I came up with is that I sometimes use it as a defense mechanism and I think others do too. The natural question is…. what am I defending myself against? The answer came to me very quickly…. becoming overly empathetic and taking on others feelings, which, for me, is a great way to create anxiety. Believe it or not, I have this habit of taking on other people’s problems and even feeling their pain. By making light of a situation, I find that it is easier to look at a situation logically. I guess this is kind of a coping skill that makes it easier to choose the burdens that I take on. I have found, that by selecting burdens that are well thought out… I am more productive and spend less time enabling the “burden givers”. Lastly, boys are not yucky and I know that because the other Q told me and he is going to be a doctor and knows a bunch of stuff about who is yucky and who is not yucky!

  6. Ah, you reminded me of Lefty, my half collie, half wolf – hadda be so). He always dug under the chain link fence to escape to terrorize the neighborhood like that mischievous elf/god the Loki(I think). So I dug a two foot deep by half a foot wide trench under the perimeter of the fence in which I put chicken wire and filled up the hole. The subterranean attachment foiled his escape attempts. I came home one day(you are not going to believe this) and he was missing. He had pushed his forty pound plywood dog house across the yard next to the fence which gave him the height to jump over the fence. Now I understand that a chimpanzee may figure out this type of “exit strategy” but a dog? I later had a federal marshal of some sort representing to Postal Service visit as Lefty prohibited the mailman from delivering the mail on the entire street. The dog was more trouble than most of my exes. Gotta love it.

  7. Rick, I’m going to apologize again. I’m so glad that you responded as you did. I’m almost jealous that you have found a way – and it IS funny! (Well, for the most part.:-) ) – to get through or past the pain of taking on other’s suffering. I walk in your shoes, my friend, and I know how hard it is to hurt for others and not make your own hurt go away. You are remarkable and, I hope, no matter what “knee jerk” people like me say, that you will, as Dr. Q says, “Keep on.” You make this blog (especially since you have just let us peek under the skin just a little bit) fun as well as important. Thanks.

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