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juushikaDevon and Janet are currently driving Doug out to the airport, so that he can fly out to Arizona and spend a couple of intense months prepping RVs for sale. He used to sell RVs for a living, so this is what he's good at; it's a great opportunity for him, high-demand and high-paying, working for a personal friend, but a short-term time investment and all the heavy lifting in the RVs has been done already so that he can finish them without injuring his back (prior back injury being the reason he no longer works in the RV business).
And for me, it means a couple of months of an emptier house. Janet is often out, but most of the time it was Doug and I, always Doug and I, home alone all day. And while I get along with him quite well, having the constant company has been triggering my agoraphobia in a big and always-increasing way, and I've been spending more and more time holed up in the room and never coming out. I like Doug. I will also really, really like having the house more or less to myself for part of the day.
But with a dog and two cats and two guinea pigs, you're never really home alone. In particular, Woof's Person will be gone. I've mentioned before that Woof has separation anxiety, and how much it can suck to be the only one home with her. I won't delude myself: I know that will happen again.
But Woof and I have been pretty close, lately—in a way that I keenly recognize and appreciate. Word is, when I was away for the cruise she was pretty heartbroken, and slept all night outside my door. That does mean that with Doug gone she'll be close to inconsolable, but Woof's love is an intense and precious thing. She went through a lot of homes as a puppy, and suffered some abuse—which is why she is the way she is now: distrustful, and intensely needy. She doesn't take easily to people—she still growls at Navarre's girlfriend, and Dani's been around for months—but she needs people, she needs them so desperately, she just needs them to love her and never stop. When Woof sees me she comes over at a jog and then sits in front of me and waits for me to pet her head. She's mostly deaf and half blind these days (she's an old lady!), so we've established some simple hand gestures so that if she's lying down, I can tell her to stay because I will come to her; she's achy and grumpy in her old age, but she still wants me to touch her all over and makes rumbly moany noises the whole time.
Today, just after everyone drove off, I went to read for a bit in the living room. Woof fell asleep with her head on my thigh; Dude curled up and purred his loud purr to himself on a nearby armchair.
I love cats because I am one, because they are my equals and siblings, because I understand their crazy moods, I understand that they can't be understood, and I know how to give the best scritches. I love dogs because nothing rivals the love a dog gives back: it's a love with weight and warmth, love like a beating heart, and sometimes you have to earn it but once you do it is given over to you without question.
It'll be a good few months.
And for me, it means a couple of months of an emptier house. Janet is often out, but most of the time it was Doug and I, always Doug and I, home alone all day. And while I get along with him quite well, having the constant company has been triggering my agoraphobia in a big and always-increasing way, and I've been spending more and more time holed up in the room and never coming out. I like Doug. I will also really, really like having the house more or less to myself for part of the day.
But with a dog and two cats and two guinea pigs, you're never really home alone. In particular, Woof's Person will be gone. I've mentioned before that Woof has separation anxiety, and how much it can suck to be the only one home with her. I won't delude myself: I know that will happen again.
But Woof and I have been pretty close, lately—in a way that I keenly recognize and appreciate. Word is, when I was away for the cruise she was pretty heartbroken, and slept all night outside my door. That does mean that with Doug gone she'll be close to inconsolable, but Woof's love is an intense and precious thing. She went through a lot of homes as a puppy, and suffered some abuse—which is why she is the way she is now: distrustful, and intensely needy. She doesn't take easily to people—she still growls at Navarre's girlfriend, and Dani's been around for months—but she needs people, she needs them so desperately, she just needs them to love her and never stop. When Woof sees me she comes over at a jog and then sits in front of me and waits for me to pet her head. She's mostly deaf and half blind these days (she's an old lady!), so we've established some simple hand gestures so that if she's lying down, I can tell her to stay because I will come to her; she's achy and grumpy in her old age, but she still wants me to touch her all over and makes rumbly moany noises the whole time.
Today, just after everyone drove off, I went to read for a bit in the living room. Woof fell asleep with her head on my thigh; Dude curled up and purred his loud purr to himself on a nearby armchair.
I love cats because I am one, because they are my equals and siblings, because I understand their crazy moods, I understand that they can't be understood, and I know how to give the best scritches. I love dogs because nothing rivals the love a dog gives back: it's a love with weight and warmth, love like a beating heart, and sometimes you have to earn it but once you do it is given over to you without question.
It'll be a good few months.
