I'm lying in bed at 7.05 a.m writing this. While I feel okay, it is weird to be up and writing at this time to a bunch of people who are probably asleep. I am replying the threads on Facebook, reading stranger's words to each other on the Home page and checking out blogs from people who don't even know I exist...
This has nothing whatsoever to do with the hysteroscopy.
Yesterday dawned bright and clear. Actually I don't remember how the weather was, I just remember getting the pups out in the morning for our usual tussle round the block with them. I should give you a little insight into my two hounds right now as they haven't real
ly featured in this blog but they are a big part of my life.
Ellie came to us through Little Green, who, by the way, is back in town and may be staying with us while she is temporarily homeless. It was the ex of LG who found Ellie on the side of a trail. Lore has it that the now hefty Ellie was a mere scrap of a girl starving at the roadside (if you saw her this would be near-impossible to believe now).
LG's ex picked up (yes picked up readers who know our first-born), and carried E to his car, fed her, cared for her and tried to integrate her into his own doggie family (which included LG's own pooch Clea). Of course, this was when the true Ellie emerged in all her ornery glory.
Not only was Ellie a - shall we say - older dog at this point, she hadn't been fixed and had obviously had a bunch of pups in the recent past. In fact, she wasn't fixed until we took charge of her. By this point the vet figured (with laser-beam certainty) that she was "between five and nine years old". Not much difference there, then. So our dear, cranky, moody, queen-like bee is now between seven and 11 - which is around 49 or 77. Suffice to say, she acts more towards the crotchety 77 end of the spectrum. She seems to hate going for a walk, unless there is something in it for her.
Her main motivation in life is food, witnessed by her low-hanging belly, jowls like a bulldog (she is of unspecified breed though looks like a Rottweiler mixed with a Ridgeback, combined with a sofa) and ability to hear the fridge door opening from from five rooms away while she is asleep. Yes, I am the one who has ruined her. She was my guinea-pig dog and yes, I am a
bad, over-indulgent mother. I am practicing for children.
But, Ellie truly saved my life here in LA and without her, doubtless, I would have gone back to the UK. She brought a place for me to lavish my love, worry and fuss and feel like I was being loved - albeit from a rather imperious distance - back. I felt truly like I had a purpose with Ellie. She is such a love and doesn't mind me hugging her and holding her. It is a little like hugging a small cow with udders, or a dog-like porpoise. Delicious.
Macy Isenberg is a very different dog. We know Miss Macy is nine years' old because she came to us from a reliable source - her first father. Dad #1 could no longer care for MM because his working hours demanded he stay away for too long. And we know this girl loves to be close. Macy is something like a tall , slim, red haired German Shepherd. Or maybe she is a lanky collie . I don't think we ever got her breed.
She is awesome. She is my biggest fan. She is a total Alpha and so wants to arrange all the other dogs to her liking. Macy is as close to unconditional love I have ever felt. She follows me everywhere, she doesn't want to go on a walk without mama, she lies with me when I am sick. Her dark side is her neediness too. If I pet another dog she is right there. She growls at the first-born if she wants up on the TV room sofa. She does not get away with it.
My girls' are my best friends and my little loves. They bring out the best (and most spoiling) in me and I feel so happy when they are with me.
I can't even be ironic about them, it is impossible. For once. I just love them.