Sunday, May 21, 2006
Fuckin' hell it's been a while! My absence has been eventful, for me at least. I have returned to the Birda, am settling in OK at work (I think...) and have engaged in many a social event. I have been bowling (with Tom & Kate and Victoria & Paul), been out to Boston Pizza with the fencing folk (Paul, Piotr, Victoria, Tory, and Heather), bathed miniature horses with Katie, and been to visit Becca and Laura's new apartment. Becca regaled me with tales of having stuck her hand up a cow's butt mere hours before I saw her, all very exciting. Last Friday I went out for Tawnie's birthday festivities at Union, which was most fun, and then slept over at her haus. Every time I hang out with her in real life I like her more and more. She makes me giggle like a schoolgirl. And, of course, Katie has gotten a puppy! He is unbelievably cute, and bit my hands like crazy when I visited, but that was OK because he's got a sweet personality and I'm sure didn't actually intend to draw blood.
Last night was great, too: Colleen is in town all weekend, it being her Month of the Hobo while she's between apartments on the Left Coast. She stayed over, Katie and Keith came over and we rented Casanova. Keith fell asleep during the movie, as is his custom. Then Colleen and I talked on and on and watched our grade 12 production of West Side Story. Today, Colleen and I went to Lori's house (next stop on the Colleen Hobo World Tour) and did our nails and talked with the ever-charming Lori. I met her dogs, too: Buster and Casper. Casper is wrong in the head and thus unbelievably hilarious to watch. Tonight Boopsie and I went off to the Prattesses' to hang out with them and watch films and eat cheesecake. It was good times. And since I've gotten back Boopsie has been to Whistler on choir tour, and Mum and Dad are shooting off on various trips all the time, supposedly for business but I don't know about that. So it's eventful chez nous.
Some of the eventfulness has been very sad, too. The morning of May 6, our loved, loving, and lovable Bailey started breathing too quickly, and lying even more lazily than he usually does. We took him in to the vet. After x-rays and PCV tests, they had narrowed it down to a tumour, either attached to or in the liver or spleen. They were looking after him well and we went home to wait, and go back to visit him on Sunday. Not keen on being in a dogless house, I went over to Katie's and played with her various animal friends until about five in the afternoon. Then Mum called: come quickly. Katie and I leapt into the car, but Bailey was gone before we got to the office. Still warm, but not there. But he has dinner at five-thirty; he had not missed a single meal, or fallen to one of those protracted illnesses that are so painful to see and, I imagine, to experience. Katie has my gratitude forever for being so steady and positive in circumstances when anyone could have gone just a little over the edge, and driving at a sensible speed and speaking in calm tones. She was exactly what the doctor ordered.
The really difficult part didn't start, actually, until Sunday (May 7). Boopsie had been gone on choir tour when it happened, you see, and we elected not to tell her until she got back. I remember Whistler tour as among the best weeks of my life, paradise in the April mountains. We wanted her to have that too. So we picked up Boopsie and one of her friends at the airport, and had a joyous reunion and took her to the car. Walking out with her felt like taking someone round the back of the building to be shot. She hasn't been without Bailey since she was four years old. And we went back to our crisply, subtly wrong house. It is too human here now. We are being inconsiderate to each other, with no big hairy drooly presence to show us exactly how perfect, unjudging, unreserved love acts. Or maybe I am just less considerate than I used to be, accustomed as I am to making my own plans and worrying only about myself. Anyway, we all seem to be getting in each other's hair, for whatever reason. Boopsie wanted to go to West Ed to hang out with her friends after fencing today, and this was cause for snarkiness from Mum and defensiveness from Boopsie and quiet hedging from me and Dad. Frankly, I don't think anyone really wants to be home, but of course we don't talk about it.
Anyway. I should sleep, but first: to the good boy. I am very grateful to everyone who has expressed their sympathy. It's not like my grandmother died, but he was just big and schmoopy and it's too quiet here now, so thank you for thinking of him.
Last night was great, too: Colleen is in town all weekend, it being her Month of the Hobo while she's between apartments on the Left Coast. She stayed over, Katie and Keith came over and we rented Casanova. Keith fell asleep during the movie, as is his custom. Then Colleen and I talked on and on and watched our grade 12 production of West Side Story. Today, Colleen and I went to Lori's house (next stop on the Colleen Hobo World Tour) and did our nails and talked with the ever-charming Lori. I met her dogs, too: Buster and Casper. Casper is wrong in the head and thus unbelievably hilarious to watch. Tonight Boopsie and I went off to the Prattesses' to hang out with them and watch films and eat cheesecake. It was good times. And since I've gotten back Boopsie has been to Whistler on choir tour, and Mum and Dad are shooting off on various trips all the time, supposedly for business but I don't know about that. So it's eventful chez nous.
Some of the eventfulness has been very sad, too. The morning of May 6, our loved, loving, and lovable Bailey started breathing too quickly, and lying even more lazily than he usually does. We took him in to the vet. After x-rays and PCV tests, they had narrowed it down to a tumour, either attached to or in the liver or spleen. They were looking after him well and we went home to wait, and go back to visit him on Sunday. Not keen on being in a dogless house, I went over to Katie's and played with her various animal friends until about five in the afternoon. Then Mum called: come quickly. Katie and I leapt into the car, but Bailey was gone before we got to the office. Still warm, but not there. But he has dinner at five-thirty; he had not missed a single meal, or fallen to one of those protracted illnesses that are so painful to see and, I imagine, to experience. Katie has my gratitude forever for being so steady and positive in circumstances when anyone could have gone just a little over the edge, and driving at a sensible speed and speaking in calm tones. She was exactly what the doctor ordered.
The really difficult part didn't start, actually, until Sunday (May 7). Boopsie had been gone on choir tour when it happened, you see, and we elected not to tell her until she got back. I remember Whistler tour as among the best weeks of my life, paradise in the April mountains. We wanted her to have that too. So we picked up Boopsie and one of her friends at the airport, and had a joyous reunion and took her to the car. Walking out with her felt like taking someone round the back of the building to be shot. She hasn't been without Bailey since she was four years old. And we went back to our crisply, subtly wrong house. It is too human here now. We are being inconsiderate to each other, with no big hairy drooly presence to show us exactly how perfect, unjudging, unreserved love acts. Or maybe I am just less considerate than I used to be, accustomed as I am to making my own plans and worrying only about myself. Anyway, we all seem to be getting in each other's hair, for whatever reason. Boopsie wanted to go to West Ed to hang out with her friends after fencing today, and this was cause for snarkiness from Mum and defensiveness from Boopsie and quiet hedging from me and Dad. Frankly, I don't think anyone really wants to be home, but of course we don't talk about it.
Anyway. I should sleep, but first: to the good boy. I am very grateful to everyone who has expressed their sympathy. It's not like my grandmother died, but he was just big and schmoopy and it's too quiet here now, so thank you for thinking of him.
