#she's been fed; she has a full water bowl; we went to the park where she pooped; and i've been letting her out like every half hour to pee
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Cross Timbers
Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum, Sam Winchester x Jody Mills, no warnings, mildly PG-rated
Chapter 1 - 1830 words
Chapter 2 - 2265 words
Chapter 3 - 1885 words
A/N: This story was just a passing idea until I brought it up in my Slack chat and got a ton of great ideas from the folks there! Friends, I hope I have remembered everyone’s ideas and done them justice. Thanks for this and everything else!
@boondoctorwho
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@cherry3point14
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@cracksinthewalls
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@dawnie1988
@fookinghelljensensthighs
,
@icemankazansky
,
@itmighthavebeenintentional
,
@justcallmeasmodeus
,
@lastactiontricia
,
@littlegreenplasticsoldier
,
@mskathywriteswords
,
@rockhoochie
,
@there-must-be-a-lock
,
@thoughtslikeaminefield
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/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_
Jody woke up early the next morning. She reached out and grabbed Sam's discarded flannel from the night before. She pulled it over her shoulders, wrapping herself in warmth and the smell of him. She bent down and brushed a kiss to his lips, and he murmured her name in his sleep, before she slipped out of the tent.
She made a pot of coffee, enjoying the cool morning air and the sunlight warming her bare legs. She chopped apples, getting them ready to mix into oatmeal with cinnamon and brown sugar. She was bending over to tend the fire when she heard a low voice right behind her. She stood up and saw Sam striding towards her.
“Good morning,” she called softly.
"Well, it’s definitely a good morning for me." A smile creased his face, pushing dimples into his cheeks. He held out his arms and she slipped into them, leaning in for a kiss.
“Where are you headed so early?” she asked. Her fingers slipped under the waistband of his shorts, and then down over the curve of his ass.
“Well, I was going running,” he murmured. A mischievous glint lit his hazel eyes. “But I can think of a more enjoyable way to get some exercise.”
“Oh yeah?” Jody sighed, as his lips trailed over her jawline, down her neck, and towards the buttons of her -his- shirt.
“Let me show you.” He tugged her back towards the tent.
/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_
When Sam and Jody exited the tent, hand in hand, he started. Next to his SUV was- what? An inflatable slice of pizza almost as tall as him. He blinked, and it was still there. He shook his head and decided to figure it out later.
Dean and Donna were lounging by the fire. They had helped themselves to oatmeal, and coffee, and made more coffee. Sam and Jody got their own mugs and bowls before they sat down too.
Dean waited until they were settled to speak. “So, what should we do today?”
“I thought we could hike?” Sam spoke up with an eager look on his face.
Dean laughed as he took a big gulp of coffee. “Didn’t Jody give you enough of a workout? Do you two need more time in your tent?”
Sam rolled his eyes at his older brother before turning to Jody with a smile and a soft kiss.
“Today we should go to the lake. We’ve got the pizza float,” Donna chimed in.
Sam’s eyebrows went up, furrowing his brow. “The … pizza float?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t see it.” Dean gestured back. “When we went supply shopping for this trip, Donna just insisted that she needed it.”
“Stuff you, Dean,” she sassed back, dimples popping in her cheeks as she grinned. “You’re the one who loves pizza.”
“I love you,” he answered with a kiss. “
Well, the lake sounds good to me,” Jody spoke up.
“Oh, yeah.” Dean returned to the moment. “I already went to the store down at the park entrance, got some ice. We can pack the cooler full of beer and snacks.”
/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_
Everyone changed into swimsuits. Jody insisted on sunscreen all around before they headed out, the boys carrying chairs and the cooler between them. She had the towels, while Donna wrangled the pizza float.
The lake was a short easy walk away. Tall trees opened onto a sloped beach, pebbles mixed with gritty sand. The lake itself was wide and clear, sun sparkling bright. A gentle breeze swept waves across the surface, stirring the air damp and cool. In the distance, ducks paddled on the water, quacking softly.
The four of them dropped everything on the sand and headed straight for the water. Sam and Dean jumped in headfirst, racing each other to some invisible point far out in the lake. Jody and Donna waded in more slowly, but the water was warm and inviting, and they soon joined the boys.
In the lake, they were weightless, free. The worries of land slipped away, leaving them to enjoy the embrace of sun and water. The four of them stayed for a long time, talking and laughing and splashing.
Finally, Sam and Dean headed towards shore. They settled into their folding chairs and cracked open beers. Both of them looked out across the lake where Jody and Donna had their arms on the pizza float, heads together in conversation.
“Looks like trouble for us.” Dean chuckled.
“They’re the best damn thing that has ever happened to us and you know it,” Sam responded, scoffing. Dean tipped his beer wordlessly towards him in agreement. Both took a long cool drink, savoring the moment.
Finally, Dean spoke again.“You know, it’s not quite the toes in the sand vacation I envisioned.”
Sam looked at his sweating beer with a mock sad face, turning down the corners of his mouth. “And sadly lacking in umbrella drinks.”
“Hah!” Dean turned to look at his younger brother. “Anyway, I’m happy. I think you’re happy. For two fucked up ex hunters, we have it pretty good.”
Sam met his gaze with a bright, genuine smile. “We have each other. We have Jody and Donna. Yeah, I’d say I’m happy.”
Before the chick flick moment could drag on, the aforementioned ladies splashed in from the lake, dragging the pizza float behind them.
Once they dried off, they opened the cooler. Both took beers before digging into the snacks. There were crackers and pretzels, hummus and different kinds of cheese, green olives and red grapes. Everything was cool and tasty.
The four of them splashed in and out of the lake, basked in the sun, sat around talking, ate, drank, and ducked into the water again. The sun was golden bright, low in the sky, before they gathered up their things and headed back to camp.
/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_
Dean built a fire while Donna made sure the grill packs were ready to go. Sam and Jody hung around making sure dinner got into the coals. Then they left, hand in hand, to refill the collapsible water jug from Sam’s stream-fed irrigation system.
The sun was sinking behind the trees, filling the campsite with golden bands of light, before dinner was ready. Everyone felt the chill of evening on sunwarmed skin.
Sam pulled on a lightweight running shirt, while Jody returned to his button-up flannel. Dean grabbed a soft henley. Donna had the coziest solution of all: wrapping herself in a blanket, tossing the ends over her shoulders.
Around the fire, they ate and drank, laughed and talked. That night they didn’t have to worry about anything else. They just enjoyed the moment.
The fire had burned down to embers again when Dean cleared his throat. “You know, I think I might take Donna for a drive in Baby, show her where I’ve been fishing.”
“Ooh, yeah,” Donna cooed, running her fingers through Dean’s hair. “You got something to show me?”
Dean winked at Sam before he turned his attention fully to her with a deep warm kiss.
/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_
Dean drove in silence, Donna’s hand resting on his thigh. It took moments to arrive at the spot where he had been fishing the day before.
The moon shone a silvery path from the dark sky onto the deep water. He put the car in park and rolled down the windows. Donna snuggled up against him.
“Oh yeah,” she breathed. “This is nice.”
“Just you and me, sweetheart,” he answered with a suggestive tilt of his brows. “Alone, together.”
She didn’t need to hear any more before she landed in his lap, pushing his shoulders back against the car door.
/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_
“Hasn’t Dean been walking to the fishing spot?” Jody wondered, back at the campsite.
“Well, yeah,” Sam answered, as if it was obvious. “But he’s not gonna take Donna out and make love to her on a splintery old dock.”
“Oh. OH.” Jody’s big brown eyes widened.
“Sex under the stars,” Sam continued as he reached out, and she slipped her hand into his. “Sounds nice, doesn’t it?”
“Until you mentioned splinters,” she retorted.
“Wait.” He got up and took the blanket that Donna had discarded and spread it over one of the picnic tables. Then he sat down on the bench and held out his arms. Jody slipped eagerly into his embrace before he pulled her onto his lap.
The moon and the stars in the velvet dark sky seemed to hang low over the trees. Kisses and whispers drifted into the night. Everything was close and stripped bare and perfect.
/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_
It was long past midnight. The chorus of night sounds had settled to the whisper of running water and the occasional enthusiastic frog. Somewhere close, an owl hooted gently, keeping watch.
Jody was in a camp chair, Sam at her feet beside a low but warm fire. He leaned his head on her knee as she gently stroked his hair.
Dean and Donna drove up, holding hands as they got out of Baby. Her curls were more riotous than usual, his hair soft and all on end. They settled in a pair of chairs.
For a long time, everyone was still and no one spoke. Eventually, Dean got up and went to the cooler and handed out beer all around.
They were still again, enjoying the moment, when finally Donna spoke.“S’mores?”
Sam laughed, actually laughed out loud. Of course that was what this moment was missing. Never mind that it was well past 1am. Never mind that he and his brother were grown men. What a camping trip needed was s’mores.
He got up and dug around until he found the basics: marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. Jody appeared at his side with long roasting sticks.
Dean stoked the fire higher before he settled back into his seat. When Donna came up to him, he cupped a hand under her ass and then pulled her onto his lap.
Some marshmallows were burned to a crisp and others were toasted perfectly. More chocolate was eaten than made it onto graham crackers. They stayed up long after the snacks were gone, poking the fire now and then, casting a burst of sparks upward.
Sam gathered the blanket off the picnic table and settled on the ground, his back against a cooler. Jody sat between his knees, her back against his chest. He wrapped her in the blanket and held her close.
Sam and Jody, Donna and Dean - they deserved so much more. But for one night, under the light of the stars, the Winchesters were happy. They would hold on to that moment as long as they could. Afterwards they would treasure the memories of their camping trip at Cross Timbers.
/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_ _/\_
SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @divadinag @emoryhemsworth @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @kickingitwithkirk @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting
Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia @winchesterxfamilybusiness
Dean Curious:@adoptdontshoppets @awesomesusiebstuff @deangirl7695 @deans-baby-momma @mrsjenniferwinchester @stoneyggirl @wayward-gypsy @winchesterxfamilybusiness
Cross Timbers Tags: @deangirl7695, @elliloumom, @meeshw777
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Anything But Mine (d.s.) - Chapter Five
A/N :)
Saturday, September 7th, 2019
Florence, of course, called Callum right away to tell him the news. Her call, as usual, was sent to voicemail. For once, it didn't ruin her mood. She talked excitedly into the phone, spilling how she met this gorgeous boy and how he made her feel all these ways she never knew she could feel before. The rest of the day was spent getting her apartment back together, leaving Clementine playing on the living room rug while she worked. Laundry was started, dishes were washed, and a good vacuuming was done to the hardwood floors.
As much as she was loving life that day, her mood depleted quickly with the lack of text from Grayson. Two days had passed and she had still not received a text back. She tried not to overthink it, yet it still took a toll on her. She was in a sensitive state of mind once Matt left and she couldn't help but think she did something wrong.
It was Saturday around noon when Florence went over to the frat house for a spur of the moment visit. Daniel answered the door, barely getting a word out before she threw her arms around his neck.
“Hi.” Daniel laughed.
Florence let herself into the house, pushing the stroller with the sleeping baby in it.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, not being able to hide his smile over her cheery mood.
“The apartment was too quiet and I missed you.” Florence shrugged, letting herself grab a pop from the fridge.
“I missed you too.” Daniel smiled.
“How's school?” Florence leaned against the counter.
“It’s good. My producing professor is tough but I’m sure that’s a good sign.” Daniel shrugged. “What have you been up to?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Florence said dramatically. “I met the most amazing guy.”
Daniel’s smile faltered but she didn’t notice.
“His name is Grayson and he’s our age too and he’s so gorgeous like chiseled from the earth gorgeous and he’s so sweet and funny and-and-“ Florence gushed, hiding her pink cheeks behind her can.
“Where did you meet him?” Daniel asked softly.
“At Mommy group! He’s Cameron’s younger brother. And he’s a twin too! An identical twin but to me they don’t look identical but Ethan is really witty and lovely and I still can’t understand how they’re so...so...” Florence held her hands out in front of her. “So.”
“Sounds nice.” Daniel nodded.
“Are you okay?” Florence raised an eyebrow. “You’re distant.”
“Sorry, I was writing upstairs so my mind is still there I guess.” Daniel cleared his throat.
“Oh, sorry!” Florence said quickly. “Go back to it! I’ll just hang out down here if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” Daniel said. He started for the stairs but Florence ran over and hugged him before he got too far.
“Love you.” She whispered.
“I love you too.” He smiled.
Florence made herself comfortable at the dining room table, pulling Clementine next to her in her stroller. She opened the small jar of baby food she brought with her and started to feed the baby. Only moments later, Jack came down the stairs with his guitar in his hands.
“Hey.” He smiled, coming over to greet the two.
“Hey, you.” Florence beamed.
“You’re in a good mood.” Jack stated.
“I am! Life is looking up!” Florence threw her arms out. Clementine laughed.
“Do the ladies want some music with their lunch?” Jack sat down next to them, his guitar on his lap.
“I’m sure we won’t mind, would we, Clem?” Florence said. Clementine watched Jack intently as he started playing, lazily opening her mouth to be fed spoonfuls. As long as Florence knew him, Jack always had an amazing singing voice. It was clear her daughter thought the same.
At that moment, her phone rang. Florence picked it up without looking at the screen, tucking it between her shoulder and ear as she wiped the baby's face with the edge of the spoon. Jack quieted his playing.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's Grayson."
Florence's heart leapt like a middle schooler with a crush.
"Oh, hey." She cleared her throat nervously. "What's up?"
"I'm sorry for not texting you the past couple days, work has been a major pain in the ass."
"Yeah, I figured you were busy."
Grayson continued, "What are you doing right now?"
"Nothing really. Why?"
"I'm downstairs. I want to take you out."
Florence almost dropped her phone. No one had ever asked her out before.
"I would love that but I'm not at home right now."
"Oh. You must be busy then."
"Um, one sec." Florence muted her phone, turning to Jack. “How much do you love me?”
“A decent amount, why?” Jack said slowly, still quietly plucking away at his guitar. Living in a house of boys, he knew better than to accept something before knowing what it was.
"Can you watch Clem if I go out? I just got asked on a date by this amazing guy and I'm kind of freaking out!"
"Yes! Of course, I can!" Jack beamed. “I wouldn’t say no to quality time with my favourite little orange.” He leaned over to squish Clementine’s cheek and she giggled.
"Thank you." Florence whispered before putting her phone back to her ear. "Yeah, no, I'm not busy. I'll head home now."
"I can pick you up if you would like?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, text me the address."
"Okay." Florence couldn't wipe her smile off her face as they said their goodbyes. Jack was leaning on the table, smirking at her.
"What?" Florence mumbled, noting him staring as she texted Grayson.
"Who's the lucky guy?" Jack asked.
"Just someone I met the other day." Florence shrugged, sliding her phone in her back pocket as she stood up from the table.
"Good." Jack smiled, "Someone who can treat you how you deserve to be treated. Oops did I say that out loud?”
Florence smiled nervously, moving slowly and nervously, finishing her drink and applying light lipstick in the powder room. Florence's heart was hammering in her chest; she didn't know why she was reacting this way. It never happened this much with Matt. Thinking of him made her whole demeanor change, her shoulders slumping and bright eyes falling. She tried to focus on Jack’s music but her mind was cloudy. The wait for Grayson's text was almost tortuous, the nineteen-year-old's broken heart still beating strongly. When her phone buzzed in her hand, she took a deep breath, adjusting her purse on her arm as she called goodbye to Jack, and started for the front door.
The light blue Porsche was parked on the street out front. Grayson was stood leaning against it, his dark hair pushed back messily, and black sunglasses on his nose. He wore a black button up, the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone, and dark grey cuffed jeans. Florence physically stopped at the sight of him for a quick second. When he saw her, he smiled and walked over to open the door for her.
"Thanks." Florence mumbled through a smile. The two got in the front seat again. Florence blushed at the memory of what happened the last time they were there.
"Did you have a good day yesterday?" Grayson asked her as he pulled away from the curb.
"It was alright. Just got some cleaning done." Florence answered. "How was work?"
"So long. I work at CTV studios and they kept me there for hours yesterday. I didn't get home until late."
"You work at CTV?" Florence gaped. "That's the biggest Canadian television and film company."
"Yeah." Grayson chuckled. "My brother and I were going to move to LA but they noted our social media presence out of high school and offered us an internship and then now a full time job."
"That's incredible." Florence shook her head, as Grayson turned onto the main road. "What do you do there?"
"We're on our first producing gig currently but usually we're filming or helping out with editing."
"Ah, so no talk show starring for you?"
"Not yet." Grayson laughed.
Florence looked out the window, "Where are we going?"
"You'll see." He smiled. "So, we talked about my job. What do you do?"
"I'm raising an eight-month-old." Florence sighed, her gaze flicking over to him. He was still staring straight out the windshield but she noted his eyebrows furrowing momentarily. Florence continued, "I couldn't start university here because a) I was pregnant and b) I had no money to my name. Still don’t, really."
"But you manage to live downtown still?"
"My family has a lot of money so my brother sends me enough for my apartment rent. Our old neighbours really help me with other things I need. I don’t have time to get a job or even take classes because I have to look after Clementine all the time."
"That must be hard."
"It is; but I think it'll be worth it one day."
"I don't doubt it for a second. You're putting your life on hold to raise your daughter. That's really admirable and no where near easy."
His overly kind words startled Florence into silence. She just stared at him. When she didn’t answer, he briefly looked over at her then back to the road.
"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
"No, you didn’t, it's just no one has said that to me before. Callum always kind of makes me feel badly for what I do. He has this grudge against Matt – my ex – and I guess he just blames him for screwing over my future."
"Well I don't blame him for having that grudge. And obviously your brother's opinion matters a lot to you, so I get why you feel stuck in the middle. But your priority is your daughter and that's what you are focussing your life around which is the right thing to do."
"Do you take classes on sweet talk?" Florence smirked. Grayson looked over at her and smiled a goofy grin, making his whole face absolutely light up. Florence couldn't help but notice his perfected jaw line and how his light brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the sun.
"Nah but I pride myself on my honesty."
Florence bit back a smile, turning to look out the window. It was a sunny day with bright blue skies and sparkling sunlight hitting the lake water. It was only a few quick minutes later when Grayson turned onto a side street and into a parking lot. A graffitied wooden fence framed the cracked concrete lot.
"Ready?" he asked her.
"Where are we?" Florence frowned with curiosity.
"We're going bowling."
Florence could feel herself pale.
"You look like I just told you I'm a serial killer. Have you not been before?"
"No. I've never been bowling. I don't even know how to play."
"What?!" Grayson gaped. "Well good thing I brought you then. Come on."
Grayson opened his door and climbed out. Florence took a second to take a deep breath before following him. The walk around to the entrance was nerve-wracking to Florence. Although, now living alone, she was used to saving money and going through life like the average city dweller; she was still affected by the way she was raised, and the dimly lit bowling ally made her almost cringe.
Grayson stopped at the front desk, passing over his credit card in exchange for two pairs of shoes.
“I’m putting so much trust in you right now.” Florence shook her head as they got to their designated lane.
“It’s just bowling.” Grayson laughed as he sat down to change his shoes. Florence did the same.
“It was a game for the lower class in my family.” Florence admitted, sliding off her own shoes.
“Oof, ‘the lower class’.” Grayson laughed. “Your parents doctors or something? Lawyers?”
“Actors. Hollywood actors.”
“Really?” Grayson gaped.
“Surprised you haven’t heard about the scandal. DiCaprio daughter flees parents’ luxury to live alone.”
“Sounds like quite the heathen, that one.” Grayson smirked.
“Kinda a bitch, to be honest.” Florence joked.
“Well at least she’s got those stunning good looks going for her.” Grayson got up and stood in front of her, holding out his hand to help her up. Florence stood up with him and he guided her to the beginning of the lane, a ten pound ball in his hand.
“Take this.” He instructed. “Fingers in these holes here.”
He wrapped his arms around her, large hands on her wrists, guiding her arm back.
“Toss it forward, try to go straight down.”
He took a step back and Florence gave the ball a toss. It spun right into the gutter. She put her hands on her hips and turned to him, her lips pursed.
“I think I did it wrong.”
Grayson laughed, “It’s not easy.”
He took a ball for himself and aimed and shot. His back muscles flexed as he moved and Florence couldn’t help but stare. Grayson’s flawless shot knocked down all the pins.
“No one likes a show off.” Florence tisked.
“No one likes a sore loser.” Grayson teased.
It was like that for the rest of the game: Florence’s failed attempts and Grayson’s expertise of the classic game shining through. She was exhausted by the end, Grayson guiding her to his car with a hand on her lower back. He opened the door for her and helped her in. Florence thought about her mother and how proud she would have been if she had seen that simple action.
“How do you feel about steak?” Grayson asked as he closed the door behind him and started the ignition.
“I think it’s delicious but half a mortgage.” Florence said.
Grayson only smiled, turning onto the sunset dyed streets. One arm was resting on the window ledge, the other at the top of the steering wheel. Soft 80s classics were playing through the speaker and when he rolled down the windows to let the summer air in, he also turned up the volume.
Grayson sang loudly, making Florence laugh and join in. Each red light they stopped at earned them glances from pedestrians but they sang on like no one was listening. The warm summer air blew Florence’s blonde hair back in waves, her smile plastered to her face like she was sculpted that way.
The restaurant they pulled up to was coated in dark glass and black panelling in the midst of downtown. Fairy lights were strung along the patio, lighting the exterior in a golden shade. They both got out of the car and made the short walk to the restaurant from the parking lot. Grayson led Florence inside by a hand on her back. Dark laminate flooring and black painted walls stared back from the interior with white accents and red detailing. People sipped red wine in fancy dress and Florence felt out of place in her jeans and t-shirt.
“Do you take all your dates here?” Florence asked Grayson as they started to follow the hostess to their table.
“Nah. Been waiting just for that special one.”
His smooth words never failed to bring a blush to her cheeks. As they sat at their table and they were given their menus, Florence took her phone from her pocket. The only notifications were a picture of Clementine and Jack playing guitar send by Aidan and a text from Daniel.
Jack said you’re on a date. I hope he acts like a gentleman.
Florence smiled, sliding her phone back in her purse without responding. Daniel’s hopes were definitely answered as Grayson was the most polite and respectful man Florence had ever met. The perfect combination of sweet, witty, and flirty, Grayson could leave her smiling for hours. And he did. Dinner lasted longer than usual, their meals filled with childhood stories and facts about themselves. Florence learned that Grayson grew up in a small town and got into so much trouble with Ethan as a child; breaking bones and giving their poor mother grey hair at an early age. Florence told him her story, growing up in a strict family in the upper class area of LA and how punishment was intense. She even explained her confusing relationship with Matt, Grayson listening intently through the all of the details.
They walked back to the car hand in hand, pink dusting Florence’s cheeks both from the simple action and from the glass of champagne she had with dinner. The warm summer air was cooling down under the moonlit sky, the bustling sounds of the city filling the infinite space around them. Finally at the car, Florence reached for the door but Grayson took her outstretched hand in his other, guiding her to face him. He didn’t speak, instead, cupped her face with one of his large hands and pressed his lips to hers. Florence could have melted on the spot. Her back fell gently against the cool metal of the car, contrasting Grayson’s warm body beautifully. She let her hands rest against his chest, the firm muscle under her touch almost making her knees buckle. It was nothing she had ever experienced before and it was electrifying. Grayson wrapped his other hand around to her back, pulling her body close against his. The way his tongue felt over her lips made the nineteen year old, open up for him hungrily. As her nails started to grasp the front of his button up, he pulled back, leaving still minimal space between them.
“Come home with me?” Florence breathed, embarrassing herself by saying that.
“I’ll take you back to your daughter.” Grayson smiled. “I’m not the type to stay over on the first date.”
“Oh, me neither. I just-I didn’t-“
“I was teasing.” Grayson chuckled, dipping down to kiss her again. “But I do stick with that rule.”
~~
Zach was the only one awake when Florence was dropped off at the boys’ house. Being left with a chaste kiss, Florence was in pure bliss as she came twirling into the foyer. Zach was in his pyjamas at the fridge in the darkened kitchen, watching her with amusement over his young features. Florence came to an immediate stop when she spotted him, hands catching herself on the granite island.
“Someone’s happy.” Zach chuckled.
“I had the best night!” Florence sighed, making sure to stay quiet for the other boys who she guessed were asleep since it was almost midnight. “Is Daniel upstairs?”
“Yeah I think he’s still up.” Zach said. “You staying over?”
“Probably. If Clementine’s already down.”
“She is. We sang her a few songs.” Zach admitted.
“What would I do without you guys?”
“Be sad, for one thing.” Zach shrugged, popping a chocolate chip cookie in his mouth.
With quick ‘good night’s, Florence headed to Daniel’s room and Zach started for the loft. Sure enough, Daniel was fast asleep, gentle breaths being the only sound filling the room. Since the last time Florence was there, she noticed the addition of the small bassinet by the far wall and she walked over to find her daughter asleep on her back. Her lips were parted slightly and little snores matched her moving chest. The onesie she wore was white with a print of a Clementine fruit on it; part of the set that the boys got Florence for her baby shower.
Florence left a kiss to her baby’s head before helping herself to Daniel’s drawers. She got herself changed into a light pink sweatshirt and stayed in her underwear, leaving her discarded clothes and bra on the wooden floors. Daniel shifted as she climbed under the covers next to him, a place she always felt so comfortable. As Florence got herself situated, Daniel woke from his light sleep. He shuffled up behind her, wrapping an arm around her middle, pulling her into him.
“You’re back.” he said, his voice thick with sleepiness.
“I am.” Florence smiled, her voice quiet through the dark room. She set her hand over his, the position all too familiar to when she was pregnant and staying at the Clifford’s. Daniel was stay over often to keep her company, being one of the few things that helped her fall asleep during those later months.
“It was good?” Daniel asked tiredly.
“So good.” Florence sighed, pulling his arm tighter around her. She fell asleep before he could say anything else.
#daniel seavey#daniel seavey fanfic#daniel seavey imagine#why dont we#grayson dolan#ethan dolan#dolan twins#why dont we fanfic#why dont we imagines#jonah marais#jack avery#zach herron#corbyn besson#writing#novel#anything but mine#wdw
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wow the quality of the video really sucks after it has been compressed but well i don’t have a choice!
anyway, i’m moving back to tumblr again mainly cus wordpress sucks and it’s not allowing me to post videos unless i buy their premium plan which is tbh a no cus idk why platforms for blogging should even charge you for the features that they were supposed to have???? also sadly, tumblr also only lets you post 1 video per post limit which is why i’ve put the pics and videos i took into in one but it’s better than not being able to post a video at all.
so it’s our monthsary!!!!
we’ve been officially together for 3 years and 5 months now and wow, i’ve only just realised what a long time that is 😂 honestly, if you want to count how long it has been since we first met each other, it’ll probably be about 8 years now. tho han sees it as 8 years but i see it as 3y5m cus idk who he was back then ya know what i mean? like i know the 3y5m him now than the him 8 years ago.
han sent me his live location as he does so every sat, and i was late. even tho he came all the way to my place i was still late :/ and i was so sorry 😭 i know there shouldn’t be any excuses for my lateness but i have my reasons, even if anyone thinks it isn’t valid :/ so i alr prepared right? like i mentally prepared and visualize what i wanna wear and etc. and so i went to take a shower and all. and then my mom all of a sudden asked me to do things like ordering food for her, clipping her nails, airfrying some sotong balls cus she was feeling peckish. initially she asked me to order food, which i then did but it was immediately cancelled due to the weather. it suddenly rained really heavily. and then while i was in her room drying my hair, she suddenly said she wanted sotong balls which i then went to airfry. and then when i alr did that and continued drying my hair, she then asked me to clip her nails and i was like “i’m going out ibu later farhan will be waiting for me alr” and she was like nvm la it will only take a while. so i did that and then i had to just rush cus i checked his live location and he was alr nearing tenaga area which is so damn close to my place alr. then i quickly picked out the outfit i wanted to wear. i mean come on, it’s our monthsary and i wanted to dress up right and i alr had this mental image of what i wanna wear right? so i took it out, wore it and then i realized that it was still a bit rainy??? like kinda drizzling so i figured he’ll be coming up first to wait till the rain totally stops but he texted me asking me to come down instead. and at this point i was sweating profusely. yeah, it was rainy but i was feeling so warm from rushing and doing so many things at once. oh ya, i was wearing this satin white shirt with shorts and that was my initial outfit like it looks laidback and casual and effortless but i decided to change cus i was perspiring and it felt so uncomfortable wearing a satin material when you’re perspiring like heck!! so i ended up wearing my fav tee with the same shorts and brought my hoodie along. it’s also my fav hoodie from uniqlo. i think their hoodie quality is bomz it’s not too thick or too thin and i wanna buy more but maybe wait till they have sales or something. so i ended up just looking super hobo as heck like it just looks like i didn’t even bother to dress up and i felt sad but i didn’t want han to be waiting even longer.
so when i went down he was alr sitting at the seats at the void deck and i can feel anger radiating within him lol like i knew he was mad and he still had his helmet on and his rain jacket on and all. and then he gave me different options of where to go for our lunch and then i just sat there pondering for a bit. and then i asked him if he wanted to put the jacket and pants at home but he didn’t want to so he took it off and then put it on the table and he took off his helmet as well. and then i asked him if we could eat at genki and he told me that genki was one of the options that he forgot to list so we decided on genki! his anger didn’t last long and as he stood up to head over to his bike i went to him and open up my arms cus i just wanted to hug him lolol then at first he tried to act all “ew” and moved away but he ended up hugging me anyway hehe and then don’t want to let go lol so bobo so cute. honestly i’m still shy??? around him wtf. like when i initiated the hug itself i felt so shy loooooollllll and when he didn’t wanna let go it made me blush wtf but ofc he can’t see cus we have to wear the stupid mask bc of stupid covid. i hate it wtf my face is so sensitive and it’s breaking out bc of having to wear the mask so my skin can’t breathe. like what’s the point of me not wearing makeup underneath the mask when i still break out anyway right zzz hais. ok sorry side track a bit but ya hahaha so then i told him i wanted to show him something!!! and then he was like “eh eh who said you let go” or was it “who said you can stop hugging” but it’s either one la hahaha then i took his hand and pull down my mask and then kissed his hand 😂 then i told him to look and i said “no transfer”!!!!!! hahahahaha cus i was wearing this lipstick and wtf man the formula is damn amazing really didn’t transfer anywhere at all. i even kissed my own hand and i even drank water but not transfer AT ALL. it was a gift i got from two years back i think hahaha for my bday from rai, a kylie kit and i haven’t worn it out before mainly bc the color didn’t suit my skintone cus the shade felt so light but when i wore it this time it felt like the shade was darker somehow? idk if i became pale from staying at home all the time or idk lol but i like the shade now 😌
oh at first i didn’t wanna go to tampines cus we always go to tampines hahaha and i guess i made a face and han teased me about it lol as much as it annoys me it’s a good kind of annoying? 😂 cus he’s so cute whenever he teases me in that way lolol but we ended up just heading to tampines anyway cus he wanted to save up on petrol also and i thought ok ya cus he has to work now and he has to go to and fro everyday so it’s better for him to save the petrol as well. i put on my hoodie and then we went to the usual parking spot at tampines. and then bc both of our masks were down i could actually kiss him hehe. and then from there we walked to the front entrance of the mall cus of this covid there’s only one in and out entrance but entering was a breeze tbh cus even tho there was a long line, we didn’t have to wait long.
then we went up to the escalator. and genki wasn’t crowded at all either so that was great!!! we did the safe entry thing, got our temperature taken and got our seats. then we ordered some food hehe. i was excited cus lol i love genki. not as much as i love my bf but if i have to choose an express sushi shop i would choose genki 😂 i wanted something soupy and filling so i got their beef udon since i alr had their duck udon the previous time we went there. and then i got a drink and chawanmushi as an appetizer. i love their chawanmushi as well and it’s something i will always get. i used to buy their clams miso soup but since it was taken out of the menu, i got their chawanmushi instead. and i was so happy when han decided to try the chawanmushi!!!!! i’ve always knew him as someone that wasn’t into eggs but he actually liked this one!! and he even ate the prawn and the naruto/japanese fish cake when i fed it to him omg 😭😭😭 i was legit so happy wtf hahahaha and then his fried squid came, also one of the hot foods i will always order but usually i’ll get it if i didn’t buy any of the udon. but since i alr got the udon i didn’t order it. and then his mini chicken teriyaki don came and lol the bowl was rly so mini ahahaha i wish i took a picture of it but i didn’t. but it was worth for the price of $4 i think since it was actually filled to the brim. there was even slices of tamago in it. he fed me a spoonful and it was nice!!! i’m gonna try that next time i go to genki if i’m feeling like eating rice 😂 i like udon cus of the chewy texture of the noodles and the soup. and then a plate of mentaiko fries came 🤤 there was A LOT of mentaiko on it it was so amazing and i was so surprise cus i didn’t order it but at the end of the day han said that he saw that i didn’t order the fries so he ordered it for me 🥺😍 so sweet hais and i really enjoyed it. i love genki’s mentaiko sauce it’s so damn goooooodddddd. so salty so nice. and then my udon came hehe and i devoured it. i fed han some too and gave him one of the fish cakes cus i think they made a mistake and put two pieces. the udon was so good i love it hahahaha. and then han ordered a seaweed roll, 2 more beef sushi and 1 mentaiko salmon for me hehe yes i know how to eat salmon now!!!! but it must be seared. i still can’t eat raw ones unless i rly dipped it in soy sauce or if it’s cut super thinly then maybe can try 😅
then after we finished eating, we went up to see if we can catch a movie. i wasn’t sure if we’re allowed to sit together so i asked him to ask first if we have to be separated and yay we don’t have to separate!!! so we decided to watch train to busan 2: peninsula. since we alr watched the first one together and there wasn’t much movies that were showing so we decided to catch the 5:10pm slot. it’s been so so so long since we last watched a movie tgt so this was nice. we didn’t get anything to eat since we just ate and i was still full but we had some time so we went to fairprice and got some candies. then farhan bought a root beer slushy which turns out to be scam!!! cus it’s just ice and it was practically solidified even after the movie was over it didn’t even melt much within 2 hours wtf. and then he also got a hotdog bun 😂
the movie was great. not as great as the first one cus the first one was definitely much more impactful but this one was not too bad. a bit too much “racing” scenes but i guess it’s to keep its audience on the toes. the storyline is a bit meh as well but i guess the suspense from some parts made up for it. it’s quite tragic though.
and then after the movie, i asked han if he still wanted pizza but when we saw the queue there was still a bunch of people waiting for their orders. even some foodpanda and grab delivery riders were waiting so i told him we’ll just order in and at first he was like we’ll see how but i ordered anyway. then we went out to head home and han finally lighted a cigarette. hahahaha he actually had to suppressed his desire to smoke cus we didn’t have time since i chose the earlier slot for the movie and im so proud of him for being able to suppress the feeling and yet not turning into a cranky momok.
while on the way back, he wanted to top up some petrol so we stopped by spc and then he wanted to top up his cashcard so we had to go one big round from the carpark to where he can top up his card but the machine is stupid!!! and he got upset cus he wasn’t able to top up his card. i think he still prefers the card with chip reader than the contactless ones. so then we decided to head to 7-11 so he can purchase one with chip but they ran out. so we decided to find another petrol station cus he said usually it’s being sold there too. so we did and this time round i guess i was being cranky cus the seat of his bike was eating into my skin and it hurts like heck so i told him to just top up the card since they don’t have the chip ones and he needed to top up anyway but then in front there was another petrol station and apparently they had a chip + contactless card there and i think they only accepted cash for it so he came out and then went in back and bought one there. and i was still cranky lol and i was perspiring so much both from my scalp to my body and it was drizzling too so all i wanted to do was head home so i got upset and i lashed it out on him when we made our way back cus he kept trying to make a joke out of the pain i felt and it just triggered me cus it’s like he doesn’t understand how much it hurts??
but it’s not his fault. cus i’m the one that chose to wear shorts even tho i know how much it hurts when i sit too long on the bike. and then he said he’ll cut the netting off but i was like no wtf. cus 1, we don’t meet everyday which sucks but ya we don’t and thus i’m not the one sitting on the back of his bike everyday so having to sit one day out of the week doesn’t bother me as much as having to sit on it everyday ya know what i mean? and 2, the parts that are still protected which is probably about 90-80% of the seat is still useable so it’ll be able to help protect the other areas from getting damage by the claws of cats.
and then when we got back, he wanted to pass his gummies to me but no one in this household eats gummies or candies. my mom can’t even eat sugary content cus of health, my dad isn’t a fan of gummies or candies he much prefers chips and chocolates and my brother too prefers chocolates or ice creams. i don’t like sugary content either but unless it comes from cakes or pastries or ice creams or chocolates so rly, no one is gonna eat it. and then he got mad at me and all i could hear was “you do to me can but when i’m doing it to you cannot” and i didn’t get what he meant by that tbh so i just kept quiet all the way till we’re home. i quickly took off my hoodie, changed into a more comfortable shorts went to take a piss and then went into my room. i sat down for awhile in front of the fan cus i was sweating so much and then i cooled down before i apologized to him and then asked him if he was still upset. i tried to get him to explain what he meant but couldn’t get anything out of him cus he just prefers to sweep it under the rug whereas i like to talk about it so i can see what i did wrong or which areas i have to improve or change so it can better our lives ya know but he’s not like that and i have to understand it so i just kept quiet and then i kissed him and stroked his face and hair a little.
and then he asked me if the pizza was here and i said ya hahaha it’s alr in the kitchen and whether he wants me to take it so he was like yes and as i was going to take the pizza he grabbed me and hugged me tight and i just instantly melted. it was genuinely hot lol i like this kinda shit hahahahaha but i’ve always felt afraid that i was gonna hurt him with my weight so i didn’t dare do anything that will shift my whole weight onto him but he didn’t care and he said it doesn’t hurt 🥺 haissss
honestly going home was all i was looking forward to. it’s not bc i’m horny lol or maybe that’s one of the reason but it’s mainly bc i just want to lay in his arms and just cuddle and give him kisses and also receive kisses. i’ve missed him all week long and we haven’t really been able to talk much since he’s working and he’s always tired when he gets home but it’s good that he’s working hard for his future and for our future.
and then the time for him to head home came. a truly saddening end of the day and he left a little later than usual but i’m just glad he got home safely and didn’t get lectured for being home a little late.
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For Those in My Heart - Chapter 8 “The Proposal”
Prompt: Robin finally decides to propose to Regina
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
It was Sunday. This was Robin’s favorite day of the week. Regina didn’t have to work. The kids were home from school and they were all together. He really valued this time with all of them. Henry was sixteen now and Robin knew that time would fly by until he was ready to set out on his own, whether that be for college or something. However, Robin knew that if Regina had her way, it would definitely be college that Henry was heading towards.
Roland, although he was only 6, was growing up so fast. He had started kindergarten this year and was quickly changing from an inquisitive little toddler to a sweet, kind and often rambunctious kid. Even Addy had changed so much during this year. She had gone from a tiny newborn baby to an almost one year old who was smiling, giggling and trying to walk.
They really had become a family during this year but Robin felt as though something was missing. He was an old fashioned kind of guy and he wanted to officially blend this family forever. He wanted to propose to Regina. He had been wanting to do it for such a long time, but simply couldn’t figure out how to do it.
Regina was such a special woman and she deserved so much more than a run of the mill proposal. Robin would have given her the whole world if he was able to. She had so effortlessly fallen into the role of being Roland’s mother and though it had taken a little longer with Addy, she had got there. Now, when Robin saw her with his children, he couldn’t feel anything but love. Regina looked at Roland and Addy just as she looked at Henry. Robin knew that in her mind, there was no divide. All three of them were her children. Robin also couldn’t ask for a better partner, a better soul mate. In his eyes, Regina was perfect. She was beautiful, smart and caring. She was everything that he’d ever want in a wife and Robin didn’t want to wait any longer. But first, he knew he had to ask someone else an even bigger question.
Later that week, Robin took Henry fishing. The boy had been begging him to go and Robin was more than happy to oblige. Together, they walked down the trail in the forest until they made it to Robin’s favorite fishing spot. It was a private spot that not many knew about. Robin had found it while searching for a new camp for his merry men. Upon seeing the beauty and the peacefulness of the area, Robin decided this wasn’t the space for his rowdy merry men and decided to keep the space for just himself. “Thanks for taking me fishing, Robin,” Henry said, his voice full of excitement.
“Anytime, my boy,” Robin replied. “Now, do you know how to get your pole ready and your hook baited?”
“Not really,” the young boy replied with a laugh. “Mom’s not much of a fishermen and the closest that my other mom has gotten to fish is when she heats fish sticks up the oven, ” Robin laughed. He knew that Henry was absolutely right. He had been there for Emma’s fish stick escapade and it had not ended well. There had been a fair bit of smoke and the loud chirping of the smoke alarm to conclude the evening.
“Alright then,” Robin began. “It’s not very difficult. Let me show you.” He added. He grabbed Henry’s pole and showed him how to pull the fishing line through the pole so it wouldn’t get tangled. Then he pulled out a worm from the bait they had bought and wove it onto the hook. “There, you’re all set. Now, to cast, you throw the line back over your shoulder and make sure to look before you do. No one wants to end up with a hook in their lip instead of in a fish’s mouth. Have you got it?”
“I think so,” Henry replied. He took the pole from Robin’s outstretched hands and cast it over his shoulder like the older man had just showed him. The bobber landed in the water with a loud “plop” and began to float.
“There, you’re a natural.” Robin exclaimed.
“Or I have a great teacher,” Henry added. Robin smiled back at the boy and then cast his own line. The two men sat down on an old fallen tree together and waited for the fish to seek out their bait. It was quiet for a moment and Robin could feel himself getting nervous.
“Henry, Could I- Could I ask you something?” Robin stuttered out.
“Yeah sure, what’s up?” The teen replied.
“Well you know that since Roland and I moved in and Addy was born, that we’ve all grown a lot closer.”
“Yeah it’s been nice.” Henry replied.
“Yes, I’ve thought so too. That was why I was hoping that we might - uh, make it official.” Henry looked at Robin, a look of confusion on his face. “What I mean Henry is that I would very much like it if I could have your blessing to-to marry your mom.” At first, Henry made a serious face.
“I’m not sure…”
“It’s alright, my boy,” Robin quickly replied. “It was a stupid idea. Forget I said anything. I was wrong.”
“Robin! Just be quiet.” Henry replied with a laugh. “I was kidding.” He added with a smile. “Of course, you can marry her… if she says yes of course. Which, I’m pretty sure she will.”
“You mean it?” Robin asked
“You’d have to be blind to not see how much Mom loves you,” Henry replied. “You’re her soul mate. Just under all three of us kids, you’re the person she loves most in this world.”
“Well, thank you for your blessing Henry,” Robin said.
“In all seriousness, if you hurt her, you know you’ll have to answer to me.” Henry replied.
“Yes my boy, I know.” Robin replied. “ but I can’t even imagine hurting her.”
“I know, I just felt like I was supposed to say that, you know be overprotective and stuff. So how are you gonna do it?” Henry asked.
“Do what?”
“The proposal! How are you gonna ask mom?”
“That’s what I don’t know,” Robin replied honestly. “Nothing I think of seems good enough.”
“Well I’ll help you,” Henry replied. “Between the two of us, we’ll figure out something that’ll blow mom’s mind. This is going to be the most perfect proposal in the history of proposals.” Robin couldn’t help but laugh. He knew Henry was quite the romantic and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind with the young boy’s help, they would come up with something that would be absolutely perfect.
After a few days of planning and spitballing ideas, Robin and Henry had figured out a perfect night for Regina. Part one of the day was shopping. Snow had happily obliged instantly and after a little convincing, Emma agreed as well. Getting Regina to agree was another story. Henry knew that his mother was not a huge fan of shopping but she deserved a new dress and the opportunity to get something new for the special occasion.
“No.”
“Mom, you have to.” Henry told her. “I’ve already arranged the plans with Mom and Grandma.”
“You should have asked me first.” Regina retorted as she spoon fed some mushy apples and pears into Addy’s mouth. “You know that I hate shopping and I only tolerate Emma and your grandmother. They’re family and I love them but I don’t want to go shopping with them.”
“Well… they’ll be here in fifteen minutes…”
“What? Henry Daniel Mills!”
“You need a break, mom.” Henry told her. “Between being the mayor and trying to keep up with the three of us, you deserve to spend a day focusing on yourself…and maybe get a new dress.” Regina sighed.
“And who is going to watch your brother and sister?” She asked.
“Granny already agreed. She’ll be here soon and until then I’ll watch them. I can feed the little peanut some mush.” Henry told her as he took the little red bowl and spoon out of his mother’s hands. “Now go get ready. Grams and Mom will be here soon.” Regina rolled her eyes. She had learned not to fight with Henry because he was just as stubborn (though she’d never admit it) as she was. Leaving Henry to feed Addy, she went upstairs and got herself ready. Soon enough, she heard the beep of Emma’s yellow bug and looked out the window- sure enough, Snow and Emma were outside. Regina groaned. She hated shopping. Maybe she’d be able to convince them to abandon shopping and hit up a bar instead. Henry was right about one thing. She did need a break. She loved her children and Robin but sometimes things just got to be too much. Sluggishly, Regina made her way downstairs and grabbed her purse. She looked to Henry “You’re sure you’ll be alright until Granny gets here.”
“I’m positive mom, go!” Henry replied. “Say bye bye to Mama, Addy.”
“Buh bye!” The little girl chorused sweetly as she waved her chubby little hand at Regina.
“Bye bye baby,” Regina said as she pressed a kiss to the baby girl’s forehead. After that, she walked towards the front door and went out to meet Emma and Snow. Opening the back door, Regina climbed into the yellow bug.
“Yay, we’re all here! Let’s get this shopping trip going!” Snow said excitedly. “Where should we go first?”
“How about The White Rabbit?” Regina suggested.
“Regina, that’s a bar not a store!” Snow retorted.
“We’ve got a genius in the car.” The former queen replied sarcastically. “I’m aware it’s a bar. It just sounds more fun to me. Come on, Emma, I know that you hate shopping as much as I do. That’s why you haven’t bought another jacket in years”
“First of all, I like this jacket. Second of all, rude.” Emma told her. “And, we’re going shopping. We need a girls day.”
“We could have a girls day at the bar!” Regina exclaimed. Emma and Snow just ignored her and smirked at one another. They drove to the other side of town and pulled into a spot in front of the dress store, “Andalasia Fashions.”
“Alright, everyone out,” Emma said as she parked the bug. Reluctantly, Regina climbed out of the back of the car and followed Snow and Emma inside.
“Hello ladies! How can I help you!” The store owner, Giselle said, as she greeted them at the front door.
“We’re looking for some dresses!” Snow told her.
“Perfect! We’ve got lots for you to try on.”Giselle told them. “Feel free to roam around the store and find some dresses that you like. When you’re finished, you can bring them to the dressing room and we’ll get this fashion show going!” The girl practically squealed. Regina rolled her eyes. This girl was just as annoyingly cheerful as Snow. However, if she was going to be stuck there, she much as well look around. Regina went through all the racks and picked three dresses that she wanted to try on and made her way to the dressing rooms.
“Okay! Regina, you’re first!” Snow yelled loud enough for her to hear in the dressing room. Regina tried to ignore her step daughter and pulled on the first dress. The dress was black and had a neckline cut like a V that exposed her cleavage, maybe a little too much. The bottom of the dress flared out. Taking a breath, Regina stepped out of the dressing room and walked towards Emma, Snow and Giselle. All three were silent.
“So, what do you think?” Regina asked.
“It’s black…” Emma said
“And?”
“Half your wardrobe is black.” Emma told her
“And half of your wardrobe is that jacket.” Regina retorted.
“Hey, we’ve already picked on my jacket enough today. All I’m saying is that you could go a little out of your comfort zone and pick a color other than black.”
“I like the neckline though.” Snow added. Regina groaned and practically stomped into the dressing room. She took off the first dress and looked to her second dress. It was a skin tight teal dress with a v-neck like Snow wanted. She walked out and did a twirl.
“Well? I gave you color.” Once again, the three women didn’t speak. “Come on! I’m partaking in this stupid fashion show, the least you could do is be honest with me.”
“I like the neckline.” Snow chorused again.
“If you want honesty, you look like your ready to grow a tail and dive into the ocean.” Emma told her. Regina looked down. The dress did remind her a bit of the color of Ariel’s tail when she was in her mermaid form. Also the mermaid cut of the dress was not helping matters.
“You know I didn’t come on this trip to be insulted. This is why I hate shopping.”
“We just want you to find the perfect dress.” Snow told her.
“The perfect dress for what?!?” Regina exclaimed. “I don’t know what event you think I’m wearing this to. I don’t go out. I do my mayor duties and then I’m a mom. I get covered in baby food, dirt and spit up. I don’t wear dresses like these anymore.”
“Everyone needs a special dress just in case a special occasion comes along. Just go try on the last dress.” Snow told her. Regina stomped off to the dressing room once more and took off the second dress. The last dress was not similar to the other two in anyway. Frankly, Regina was surprised she picked it up. It was very different from something, she’d typically choose. The dress was a bright cherry red color. It covered her shoulders and also had V neckline. The bottom of the dress was flowy with a slit up her left leg. When Regina looked in the mirror, she was shocked at how much she loved this dress. It hugged her in all the right places and Regina really felt… sexy. She prayed that Emma and Snow liked this dress because she really didn’t want to hear any criticism about it. In her eyes, it was perfect. Regina walked out of the dressing room with a huge smile in her face. Emma and Snow could instantly see that Regina loved this dress.
“So?”
“It’s gorgeous, Regina.” Emma said. “You look amazing.” Regina looked over to Snow who practically had tears in her eyes.
“You look beautiful.” Snow told her, her voice choked up from the tears.
“Okay… thanks.” Regina said. “Why are you crying?”
“Oh...I-I’m fine.” Snow replied quickly as she wiped her eyes. “It’s just that time of the month you know. Hormones. Never know what’s gonna set me off.”
“Okay…didn’t need to know that.” Regina said. “But anyway, I love this dress. I think I wanna get it.”
“You absolutely should.” Emma told her. “Go change and then it’s our turn.” Regina nodded and headed into the dressing room. When she was gone, Emma elbowed her mother in the side. “Pull yourself together. If you don’t stop, they’re gonna start calling you weepy and make you the eighth dwarf. Do you want to give away the surprise?”
“I can’t help it. I’m just so happy for her.” Snow replied. “She just looked so beautiful and she deserves to be so happy. She has been through so much in her life and it’s finally time for her to find her happiness.”
“I agree with you, I do, but Regina’s smart. If you keep acting weird she’s gonna catch on and figure out what’s going on.” Emma told her. “Henry will never forgive us if we give away the surprise, so pull yourself together, okay.” Snow nodded and soon enough Regina emerged from the dressing room with the red dress in hand.
“Alright your turn.” She said motioning to Emma and Snow. “I get to judge your dress picks now.” Emma and Snow went along with the plan and tried on some dresses, though neither one actually bought one. After paying, the three women piled into the yellow bug and drove home to the mayor’s mansion. They went inside and Roland instantly flocked to his mother.
“Mama, you’re home!” He exclaimed as he ran to her arms.
“I am. Did you have a good day with Granny?”
“Yup! We played lots a games.” Roland told her. “And I won, right Granny?”
“That’s right.” Granny replied as she walked in from the kitchen with a squirmy Addy in her arms.
“There’s my girl!” Regina exclaimed as she took the smiley infant into her arms and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“She’s been fed, changed and she took a two hour nap.” Granny told her.
“That’s my good girl.” Regina cooed.
“Something came for you while you were out” Granny told her. “It’s in the kitchen.” Regina scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion and wandered into the kitchen. In the center of the island was a huge bouquet of red roses.
“Oh, they're beautiful.” Regina said as she picked up the card. She opened the envelope and smiled. The inside said “To my love, though these flowers are not nearly as beautiful as you are, I hope that you like them. I wanted to surprise you with a spontaneous date night, so get ready in that new dress and I’ll pick you up around five. - Robin.” Regina looked to Emma and Snow and gave them a look. “You knew… both of you.”
“Well, we couldn’t give away the surprise.” Emma told her. “We’re gonna get going so you can get ready. Henry is at my house, hanging out with Hook.”
“And these too little ones are coming with me.” Snow said motioning to Roland and Addy. “Now, let me get my hands on this little peanut.” Regina smirked at her stepdaughter and handed the little girl over to her.
“You have her stuff already? Her blankie and formula?” Regina asked.
“We have everything.” Snow told her. “Robin has taken care of everything. All you have to do is focus on yourself for the night.”
“Okay, thank you to you both.” Regina replied. She said goodbye to everyone and watched as they piled out the front door. Left all alone, Regina didn’t really know what to do with herself. It was rare that she got moments like this. She grabbed some leftovers from the fridge and heated them up to quell the hunger in her stomach. When she was finished, she looked at the clock and saw that it was already 3:30, so she decided to start getting ready. She went upstairs to her and Robin’s shared master bedroom and hopped into the shower. When she was finished, she dried off and slipped on the new dress that she had just bought. Next, she set off to do her makeup. She close a very subtle look, just enough to highlight her delicate features. She settled on a bold red lip to complete the ensemble. She dried her hair and decided to curl it. She didn’t really have time to curl it very often anymore, but tonight was a special night. She threw on some jewelry and a pair of nude heels and looked in the mirror. She looked… beautiful and she felt great. Suddenly, she heard the doorbell ring and a huge smile formed on her face. She carefully walked downstairs, trying not to trip or slip on her dress. When she opened the front door, it reveal Robin who was dressed in black pants and a red button up dress shirt.
“Regina… you look… wow.” The man stuttered out.
“You look pretty wow yourself.” She laughed.
“Are you ready for our date night, milady?” He asked, his hand outstretched to help her down the stairs.
“I am,” Regina replied as she took her soul mates hand. He led her outside and Robin open the door to Regina’s black Cadillac for her to climb inside. “Thank you,” she replied as Robin shut the car door, careful not to close it on her dress. Robin then went around and climbed into the driver’s side. He pulled away from the mayoral mansion and began to drive. “So, where are going?” Regina asked “Dinner? A movie? A ball?” She asked with a laugh.
“You’ll have to wait and see.” Robin told her.
“That’s not fair. You know I hate surprises. Can’t you just give me a hint.”
“I’m afraid not, milady.” Robin replied. “Just relax and we’ll be there soon enough.” Regina leaned back in her seat and stared out the window as they drove. As they got further away from home, Regina could tell that they were headed for Storybrooke’s beach. Robin pulled into a parking spot at the edge of the sand and then went around to the side of the car to open the door for Regina.
“If I had known we were going to the beach, I would never have worn heels.” Regina told him, a smirk on her face. She reached down and slipped off her heels and threw them back into the car. ``What now?” she asked.
“Allow me,” Robin replied, as he reached out a hand to Regina. She took it instantly and intertwined her fingers with his. Robin led her down the beach and tied to a wooden post were two gorgeous horses. One of the horses was completely black and the other was a beautiful chestnut brown color with a long strip of white down the front of his face.
“Oh my goodness, they’re beautiful.” Regina said as she walked up to the two horses. She was instantly drawn to the chestnut colored one. She rubbed the horses head and peered into his big black eyes. “It’s crazy… he looks just like my horse, Rocinante from back in the Enchanted Forest.”
“Henry mentioned that you used to ride.” Robin told her. “I thought you’d like the chance to do it again.”
“I would love too,” Regina replied, still stroking the horse’s mane.
“Then I’ll go and grab your saddle.”
“Oh I don’t need it.” Regina said, cutting him off. “I always ride bareback. I just need a leg up”
“Each day you continue to surprise me.” Robin replied, a huge smile on his face. He leaned down and boosted Regina up onto the horse. She swung her leg over the horse’s body and situated herself on top of the animal.
“I guess I’m lucky that I bought the flowy dress and not the tight one.” Regina said with a laugh.
“Yes, I suppose that could have proven more difficult.” Robin agreed. “So, should we go for a stroll.” Regina nodded her head and reached for Robin’s hand. They walked down the beach on the backs of the horses and gazed at the horizon as the sun began to set.
“I forgot how beautiful sunsets in Storybrooke could be.” Regina said in awe of the swirling colors in the sky.”
“They’re not nearly as beautiful as you, my love.” Robin replied as he looked over at Regina. In that moment, Robin couldn’t get over how truly beautiful she was. Her long black locks were blowing from the wind coming from the sea and her eyes sparkled in the sunlight.
“What’s got you so flirty tonight?” Regina asked with a smirk. “I mean, this is quite a lot of planning and effort for a date night.”
“And you’re worth every second of it,” Robin told her. “You deserve so much. You’re such an amazing partner and mother.”
“Well, I appreciate that.” Regina replied. “You’re pretty great yourself. If I’m being honest thought, just walking is getting a bit boring. How about we kick this up a notch?”
“What did you have in mind, milady?”
“How about a race?”
“I’d hate to beat the lady on her special day,” Robin retorted with a white toothed smirk.
“Bring it, thief.” Regina replied. “On your mark, get set...Go!” Robin watched as Regina kicked her heels into the horse’s side and took off down the beach. He tried desperately to catch up with her, but he had to admit...Regina was an amazing rider. She knew exactly how to grip on to the horse’s mane and make him go faster. When they reached the end of the beach, Regina beat Robin by mile. “Anything to say now, thief?” Regina smirk as she hopped off the horse and walked over to Robin.
“You won, my love. I had no idea you were such a great rider.” Robin said as he pulled Regina’s body in close to his.
“And you didn’t let me win?”
“I would never.” Robin told her. “Are you ready to move on to the next part of the night?”
“There’s more?”
“The night is far from over, milady.” Robin told her. He took her by the hand and led her to a secluded corner of the beach where there was a blanket with candles set up. On the blanket was a picnic basket.
“Robin…” Regina said breathlessly. “This is amazing.” Walking hand in hand, the two of them headed over to the blanket and took a seat. Robin open up the picnic basket and pulled out a bottle of red wine (Regina’s favorite). He popped the cork out of the bottle and poured Regina and himself a glass.
“Cheers my love, to a night full of love.” Robin said.
“Cheers,” Regina agreed as she clinked her glass with Robin’s.
“Now, for food. I am many things but a cook is not one of them.” Robin laughed.
“I think out microwave agrees with that statement.” Regina laughed. “I don’t think I’ve met a person who couldn’t even manage microwave mac n’cheese. Even Henry can cook that.”
“Point taken,” the man agreed. “So, I got the next best thing...which happens to be your favorite.” He opened up the picnic basket and pulled out two grilled cheese sandwiches from Granny’s. Robin found it hilarious that a woman as serious and sophisticated as Regina loved food as simple as grilled cheese. Robin knew that she could never get enough of Granny’s grilled cheeses.
“Those are my favorite.” Regina mused as she took the sandwich from Robin and immediate dug in.
“That’s not the best part. There’s dessert.”
“Do tell,” Regina said. Robin reached once more into the picnic basket and pulled out an apple pie.
“I know you can’t resist an apple pie.”
“That is true…” Regina said. “Thank you...for tonight. We haven’t had a night like this to ourselves in a long time.”
“Anything for you, my love.” Robin told her. “Now, let’s eat because I can practically hear that stomach of yours growling. I think it might start a riot it if it doesn’t get some of that grilled cheese.” Regina laughed and happily obliged. She was starving. Those leftovers that she had scarfed down before leaving had not done much to fill her stomach. They ate in silence for a while. Then, Regina felt that Robin was staring at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing it’s just…you’re so beautiful.” He told her. “But...you do have cheese on your face.”
“What? Where?” Regina replied instantly. She looked around for a napkin but couldn’t find one.
“Let me,” Robin insisted. He leaned in and began to kiss Regina, making sure to get the small spot of cheese on her lips. Once he started, Robin didn’t want to stop. He pressed his body further onto Regina’s and held her close as they laid back on the blanket.
“Robin…” Regina said breathlessly before pushing her lips onto Robin’s. They made out for a while before lying down next to one another on the blanket. Robin wrapped his arms around Regina’s body and pulled her in close.”
“Love...can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” she replied, turning over to look at the handsome man next to her.
“Are you happy?” he asked. “With me? With our life together?”
“Are you kidding me?” Regina replied. “I love our life. I love our children and most of all...I love you.” she replied, pressing one last kiss to his lips. “Are you happy?” She asked, pulling her lips away.
“Deliriously so.” Robin told her. She smiled one of her piercing white tooth smiles and Robin felt his heart flutter. “Are you ready for the last part of our evening?” Regina nodded.
“I’m always ready for anything you want to do.” she told him. “I’m in this with you. No matter what.”
“And I you.” Robin told her. “Shall we?” he asked after standing up from the sand and reaching his hands down to help Regina up. She took his hands and allowed him to pull her to her feet. They walked hand in hand back to the horses and rode them back to the car. When they arrived back at the car, Robin pulled a blind fold from his pocket.
“I have to put that on?” she asked.
“Do you trust me?” He asked. She smiled and nodded. Robin slipped the blind fold over her head. “No peeking alright? I know you like to peek.”
“I won’t peek,” she promised. “I just can’t find the car.” she added with a laugh.
“Leave that to me, my darling.” Robin told her. He gently took her by the hand and led her body to the car. Careful not to bump her head, Robin eased her down into the passenger seat and then went around to the driver’s side to get in himself. They had been driving for about five minutes when Regina first spoke.
“Are we almost there?”
“Patience my love. We’ll be there soon.” he told her. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough to get them to their final destination. Robin pulled the car over to the side of the road.
“Can I take this off yet?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“How am I going to walk if I can’t see?” Regina retorted.
“I thought you trusted me.” Robin replied.
“I do.” She replied instantly. “I just also like having the ability to see where I’m going.”
“I will be your guide.” Robin told her. He pulled her in close and whispered “Trust me,” softly into her ear. He led her through a path in the forest.
“Are we in the forest, Robin? I can hear all the twigs snapping under my feet.” She asked.
“Maybe,” Robin told her. “Just a little bit further and then we can take that blindfold off.” He led her further down the path and then stopped her. “Alright, stay here. Wait five seconds and then you can take your blind fold off.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, hearing Robin’s footsteps grow quieter.
“I’m right here,” He told her. “Just take off your blindfold in 3...2...1….” Hearing Robin get to one, Regina removed the blindfold from her eyes and blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the sight before her. There was a path lit up by candles. On either side were all the people that they cared about. Snow and Charming were there with little Neal in their arms. On the other side were Hook and Emma who were cuddled in one another’s embrace. Granny and Ruby were there, along with all the other Merry Men. Finally at the end of the lines were Roland and Henry, who was holding Addy in his arms. At the very center of the path was Robin. Regina looked around completely stunned. She almost didn’t know what to do.
“What is happening?” she asked, looking to Snow. Snow smiled with tears in her eyes and reached out and gave her a red rose.
“This is it, Regina… it’s time to find your happiness.” She said. Regina took the rose into her hands and continued to look around. She wandered further down the path and accepted roses from Emma and Hook, Granny, Ruby and all of the Merry Men.
“Here Mama,” Roland said as she also handed her a rose.
“Thank you, baby.” Regina replied, her eyes welling with tears. Then, she moved onto Henry who handed her two roses, one for himself and one for Addy.
“I’m so happy for you, Mom.” Henry told her. “Now go,” he added, motioning to Robin. Regina looked over at Robin...her soul mate and walked closer to him.
“Robin… I-” Regina began. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“That’s a good thing because it is my turn to talk,” He began with a laugh. “Regina, my love, from the moment that we met, I knew that there was something special about you. Since that day, my love for you has only grown stronger and I can say honestly that my heart belongs only to you. You bring me so much joy and happiness...and those were two things that for a while I wasn’t sure I was capable of feeling any longer. I love every little thing about you… I love you eyes and your smile, but mostly I love your heart. I love how you care and protect those that you love with the fierceness of lioness. I love watching you with our children and seeing you nurture and love each and every one of them. Regina, you are my favorite person...my soulmate, my true love, my future. I want to spend every last moment of my life making you happy.” Robin stopped talking for a second and looked over to Henry who handed him a red velvet ring box. “I don’t have another rose for you, my love, but I hope that you’ll love this just as much.” He knelt down on one knee and opened up the ring. Regina gasped when she saw it. It was beautiful. The band was slender and golden. In the center was an oval shaped purple sapphire and there were three tiny diamonds on either side of the larger stone. “This ring was my mother’s,” he told her. “And, I knew she would want you to have it. So, Regina Mills, love of my life, will you marry me?” He asked.
Regina looked down at the man before her completely in awe. She had come so far from her days as the Evil Queen where she truly never believed that she’d find love or happiness. Losing Daniel has felt like someone shot her in the heart. It had created a hole in her heart that felt like it could never be repaired. However, now as she looked into Robin’s crystal blue eyes, she could see the love that he had for her and she could say wholeheartedly that Robin had repaired that hole that had once been there. Every inch of her heart belonged to Robin now. She had so much she wanted to say to him...to tell him how much she loved him but she was too overwhelmed by her emotions in that moment and the most that she could muster was a breathless “Yes,” She nodded her head once more to make sure that Robin knew what she was saying was true. “Yes, I will marry you,” she added, tears in her eyes. Robin beamed and slid the ring over her ring finger before pulling her in for a kiss. Even as they were kissing, Regina could hear clapping and cheering behind her. When she broke away from Robin’s kiss, everyone was coming to congratulate them. Regina felt like everything in slow motion. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She had Robin. She had her three beautiful children. She had the Charming’s and Emma and Hook. She had so many people that loved her. “This is it,” Regina thought. “This is what true happiness feels like.” Regina soaked in every moment. She knew in that moment, this wasn’t a happy ending. It was a happy beginning.
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farewell to princess meatball, a very good & brave cat
tumblr’s utility as a conventional blogging site has always been questionable at best; nevertheless, it’s the only reliable stream-of-consciousness space I have outside of google docs.
importantly: putting this out here helps me. i’d like to think it can help someone else, someday, too. (be forewarned that it is very long and mildly graphic.)
the beginning
josh & I bought our first house in portland, oregon in the fall of 2014, two weeks before my 29th birthday. it was a freshly remodeled, mid-century ranch-style house a few short blocks from peninsula park. it came with retro-inspired light fixtures, charming built-ins, and a scraggly backyard-dwelling tabby cat. we purchased the washer and dryer separately.
we were not in the market for another pet. just as well, because this cat didn’t seem especially interested in being anyone’s companion. she laid out on our fence and occasionally peered into our windows, her docked ear the only sign that she’d been handled by humans. bearing the obvious marker of TNR and looking otherwise fed, we figured that could be enough.
i couldn’t tell you what possessed me to talk to the cat, but i did. there was nothing eventful leading up to our first conversation. we fixed each other with the same measured gaze -- me from the deck and her from her perch on the fence -- and i said, entirely conversationally: “hey, kitty.”
something about her face changed in that moment. she perked up and responded immediately with what I would soon come to recognize as her signature greeting: a confident and startlingly loud, “MEOW.” she slid down the fence, all claws, and came trotting up to me with an expectant gleam in her eye.
what else was I to do but feed her? josh told me not to feed her; I lied and said I didn’t. one day at dusk (otherwise known as 2:59pm during winter in the pacific northwest), I caught him spreading out a blanket on the deck and inviting her to sit with him, bowl of kibble in hand. “don’t start feeding the strays,” I echoed back to him, and he called back sheepishly, “well, she seems pretty hungry. what else was I supposed to do?”
but she didn’t become our cat at first feeding. it wasn’t until we noticed the huge, gaping wound on her chest -- red and visceral with a glossy, sickly citrine overcoat -- and subsequently wrangled her to the local vet for stitches, that she eventually started the journey towards being our cat.
by this point, she was coming into the house just a little bit; enough to keep her out of the rip city rain and safely nestled in a cozy bed-and-blankets nest near the back door, but not enough to put her in contact with our other pets. she didn’t much like being indoors, either. we bought her a little outdoor cathouse with a heated bed where she could escape from the downpour, and that’s where she’d spend most of her time.
...that is, until I coaxed her inside with treats, wrangled her into a cat carrier, sustained significant injuries from the attempt, and somehow got her to the vet with my life intact. they asked for her name; we’d been calling her “meatball,” because of course we weren’t planning on formally adopting her, so why not give her a ridiculous moniker? (we would only uncover her royal heritage later, sometime between her peeing on the new mid-century modern couch and using the above-ground pool as a giant water bowl.)
turns out meatball was very well-behaved for the vet, so much so that they were able to clean her wound and stitch her up with a bit of local anesthetic and some veterinary elbow grease. I had her vaccinated and dewormed, with stitch removal scheduled two weeks out. there was just one problem: sweet meatball had to remain exclusively indoors from the time we arrived home until here stitches were ripe for removing.
tl;dr: she hated it. she yowled and scratched up all the furniture and peed on everything. she whined incessantly at the back door, staring out through the glass at the freedom she had always known. she would look up at the ceiling and flinch away, seemingly claustrophobic for the dearth of endless blue sky above her. she kept us up at night -- every fucking night -- for two whole weeks. all in, I paid $700 to be tormented nightly by a nine-pound demon spawn and was decidedly not stoked about it.
when we brought her home for her follow-up appointment, I was convinced we’d never see her again. we took the carrier straight out to the deck and opened the door for her, expecting some calculating hesitation at the very least. but no, she bolted out like lightning and never looked back, a shock of mottled brown fur running full-speed into the unkempt shrubbery where our fence met the neighbor’s behind us. she didn’t even pretend to be grateful. I chalked it up to my good deed of the year and we made peace with her unceremonious bailout.
until, that is, she showed back up two hours later for her dinner.
princess meatball was ever after that our cat. she was mostly our outside cat, since that was where she felt most comfortable and at home. I had grand plans to convert her to an inside cat, but it seemed a cruel thing to force on an animal who had spent most of its life outside and loved nothing more than sleeping in impossibly tall trees, tightrope-walking the wooden fence, and yelling at all other animals that dared set paw in her yard.
not a year after we’d bought that house, I entertained a job offer in the bay area, in tech, a far cry from the boutique firm where I'd spent the last five years an underpaid editor, and where everyone was about to lose their job in an acquisition. we packed up the pets and drove 12 hours straight to san jose, where I hoped against hope that the yard in the house we rented -- a house we’d only seen through the lens of my local relatives who’d scoped it out for us -- was up to princess meatball’s lofty standards.
honestly, it’s hard to remember every detail from august 20, 2015 to december 21, 2020. between josh and I, we took enough photos and videos over the years to piece together a pretty accurate revisionist history, but there’s no need to rehash every detail. meatball’s days were mostly the same, in the best possible way: she spent her time outdoors, lapping up water from a bowl we filled with a garden hose, chattering at the many birds that nested in our trees, chasing butterflies, rolling around on the concrete porch, and sitting in the sunshine.
over the years, she acquired a two-story outdoor condo lined with turkish towels my aunt sent us for exclusive human use; we called it meatball’s summer house, but really it was an extension of her primary residence, and she gave no thought to the season. the princess had also commandeered the growing collection of patio furniture we amassed, along with all of the blankets and towels and everything else that made its way onto the patio. we joked that the back yard was “meatball’s house,” a concept that only grew in merit as she routinely greeted us every time we deigned to visit her.
it’s hard to convey through words alone, but the yard was her place. there isn’t a single inch of that space that wasn’t touched by meatball. when she wasn’t lounging in (or on top of) her villa, she was prowling in the bushes, taking shade under the hammock, or curled up on one of the seat cushions. she was everywhere, all at once. she was sunning herself on the deck. she was scaling the fence, albeit far more clumsily as she’d gone softer and, ahem, plumper from regular feeding and coddling alike. and if she saw you drag a blanket into the grass, she’d follow close behind, ready to lounge alongside you.
mindfulness often eluded me, but sitting in the grass with that little tiger-ticked tabby -- the breeze fluttering her dark-rooted whiskers and tickling her nose, ears twitching towards the sounds of bluebirds and finches, fur glistening in the warm california sun -- was the only time I truly knew peace.
she had dozens of fuzzy blankets indoors, but meatball could be comfortable anywhere. she could lounge in the gravel; she slept in the dirt; she’d nap on the ice chest. inside the house, where her humans dwelled, she would flatten herself under the furniture; nest in open drawers, however shallow; lie in loaf position, head straight down, on the back of the couch near the window. she slept on both beds, all chairs, any piece of cardboard -- box or elsewise -- and every other surface imaginable, save the countertops. some of her sleeping positions seemed supremely unnatural and yet, meatball was so at ease in every space she occupied.
so when, in the summer of 2020, meatball seemed less and less comfortable in any space that wasn’t the bottom of the shower, I knew something wasn’t right.
the end
one night, late in the spring, I'd remarked to josh that our princess seemed to be losing weight. she’d gotten fairly rotund up to this point, so the slimming didn’t seem drastic at first. even her increased thirst and cold-seeking behavior wasn’t totally alarming; we’d had unseasonably warm weather in the bay area, after all. deep down though, my conscience was nagging at me: something is going on with the cat.
meatball, like most other cats on planet earth, did not like going to the vet. unlike most other cats, meatball had been adopted semi-feral off the street and deeply feared all but the two humans who had dedicated their lives to socializing her. compounding this unfortunate fact were statewide covid-19 restrictions, which barred us from going into the vet’s office with her. nevertheless, on july 9th, we took her in for evaluation.
she was anemic, we learned. her bloodwork revealed some other anomalies, but nothing definitive. her x-rays were practically useless. the doctor guessed parasites; we gave her a dewormer and went about our way.
meatball maintained a strong appetite, but it wasn’t clear that she was gaining weight. against my better judgment, I googled her symptoms and her blood-tells. the internet’s vast crystal ball suggested hyperthyroidism and kidney failure and cancer. all of these were rare in a cat meatball’s age (or what we guessed was her age), but set my mental alarm fairies alight all the same.
near the end of that same month, I slid my hand idly along her flank, scrolling mindlessly through the phone in my dominant hand, and felt a lump.
it’s that same sick sort of feeling you get when you know you’re getting bad news -- life-changing, heart-rending bad news that will alter the trajectory of your worldview -- bad news that feels like a hard mass of something that doesn’t belong on your cat. I was not calm or collected; I was entirely mechanical as my feet dragged me to josh. I did not say, “I need you to come here” or “I need you to see this,” because those phrases were reserved solely for when the princess was being indescribably cute. instead, in a voice that felt unsteady and faraway in my own head, I said to him: “I need you to feel something on the cat.”
the results of this double-blind study were conclusive enough to warrant a call to the vet. the other vet. the really expensive vet with the on-premise hospital and compounding pharmacy and every type of specialist you could imagine. the vet that took three weeks to get into during the pandemic. that vet.
by the time we were able to take her in on august 13th, she was alarmingly thin: just under seven pounds despite extra treats and stealing her sister’s leftovers. the expensive vet took a biopsy of the lump and examined it under her microscope. “it looks waxy,” she said of the results. “it’s not what I would expect to see with cancer.”
vets have a tough lot. the totality of the healthcare system for humans in america is rotten enough on its own; naturally, most folks don’t have two nickels to rub together when it comes to preventive care and diagnostics for their pets. the typical next step for a human patient, said dr. blackwolf, was scheduling an ultrasound. but with pets, the expense was often tough for owners to justify, and she didn’t think it was urgent.
of course we opted for the fucking ultrasound. but the very soonest they could do it was september 5th. it would be ok to wait that long, she said, though the labor day holiday meant that we wouldn’t receive our test results back until the following thursday.
meatball remained as loving and good-natured as ever, but continued to lose weight. days before her ultrasound, she seemed increasingly uncomfortable, especially after eating. when the eternity between her biopsy and her ultrasound finally elapsed, we waited in the car, anxious and hopeful for the promise of a resolution. as with all appointments prior, meatball had peed in her carrier.
when the doctor called with her findings, she did so in the voice that people use when they’re breaking tough news to you. that voice that’s practical and giving you space to process, but feels pandering in the moment. “we shaved her belly and found more lumps,” she said somberly. “her spleen looks like swiss cheese. her intestines are very irregular-looking. her kidneys are failing.” every word a mach truck to my gut. finally: “the prognosis is likely very poor.”
she gave me options -- I don’t know what all of them were -- and advised me that they were contingent on the more conclusive lab results they’d get back. the doctor would not prescribe pain medication or recommend any therapy in the meantime, as this was highly dependent on the diagnosis.
it took nearly a week for the “conclusive” results, which were as conclusive as: maybe your cat has cancer of some kind? if it was cancer and we wanted to treat it with anything but “giving up,” meatball would have to go to a specialist at an even more expensive hospital, because changes to california state law prohibited the adequately-expensive hospital from administering chemotherapy within its current square footage. so I called the specialist. september 24th was the soonest available; sooner than I’d guessed, but nowhere soon enough. I took it, and then begged dr. blackwolf for the aid of any political capital she could summon. in her last mercy to us, she emailed meatball’s test results directly to the head of oncology. I received a call later that same day that dr. regan could do a telehealth consult that friday.
by this point, meatball was urinating in her sleep. she slept at the bottom of the shower and would wake up with her left hind leg soaked in diluted pee. when she wasn't in the shower, she would lie on the outdoor dining table or the metal cooler or even the dirty concrete. she no longer liked to perch upon blankets, especially the fuzzy ones -- formerly her favorites. her breathing was labored. she was clearly uncomfortable.
dr. regan was able to see meatball the morning after her consultation. she'd need to leech more of meatball’s precious blood, perform another ultrasound, and do all the things I'd wasted weeks and dollars doing before. but it didn’t matter, because help was on the horizon, and dr. regan was an oncologist.
I thought about chronicling all the particulars of meatball’s appointment dates and protocols, but I'm not sure that it’s necessary or even helpful to get it all exact, here. importantly, meatball was finally diagnosed with high-grade lymphoma; the lumps we had felt on her flank were actually her lymph nodes. the prognosis was indeed poor, and we could either choose to give her steroids until her passing, or attempt a chemotherapy protocol.
after seeing my coworker put her dog through chemotherapy only a year prior, I had silently promised myself that I would not put my pets, my partner, or myself through that emotional rollercoaster. and yet, when an expert is on the line telling you that you can buy your beloved best friend -- currently a shadow of the animal you once knew -- a few good-quality months or even years of life, it’s really fucking hard to remember those commitments you make to yourself, when your pets are healthy and your life is going just fine.
we told ourselves that we’d see how it went. if meatball felt better, we’d continue as long as she did. if the treatment stopped working, we’d stop taking her in. simple, really.
and the thing is, the treatment worked. we’d started her on a 16-week protocol and she got five solid weeks of marked improvement. she put weight back on; not a hint of her former paunch, but the muscle returned to her legs. she wasn’t peeing in her sleep anymore. she was active, even playful at times. she hated the daily dose of prednisolone, and she wasn’t a fan of the weekly hospital visits, but we’d reasoned it was a small price to pay to see her enjoying food and treats, pain-free. each week, the doctor had said her lymph nodes were feeling normal.
week six was her follow-up ultrasound and blood panel. once we saw how the cancer had diminished, we could put her on an every-other-week schedule, a much-needed respite from the weekly visits that sometimes kept her boarded for seven hours at a time.
unfortunately, this was also the week that the doctor felt meatball’s lymph nodes swelling up again, which meant the current protocol was no longer effective. every time we were at a crossroads with meatball’s health, I'd ask the doctors what they’d recommended. dr. regan said that we could try lomustine, a rescue chemotherapy protocol. there were risks, she’d said, but we could administer that to meatball instead of a now-pointless ultrasound and see how she responded.
if she’d responded at all, it wasn’t a good response. lomustine could only be given once every four weeks to keep its heightened immunosuppressive properties from overwhelming poor meatball. the first night, she threw up her undigested dinner on the bed. we’d brought her back weekly, still, for blood tests and monitoring. over the course of the next few weeks, she continued to lose weight and had lost her voice.
it was so important for me to be strong for meatball. I reasoned that she was enduring so much, the least I could do was provide her a source of stability and confidence. but hearing her signature loudmouth meow grow increasingly hoarse before falling completely silent nearly broke me. she ate haltingly, taking labored gulps from her dish. she could no longer alert me when she wanted in or outside, so she scratched at the door or simply sat and waited.
when we took her back to the oncologist, I thought that would be it; she’d tell me that there was nothing else we could do except “keep her comfortable,” an option that seemed out of our reach by then. selfishly, I wanted someone else to tell us when it was time to let go. but she offered to give meatball another dose of elspar and pursue another course of treatment from there, so I thought, may as well try.
and wouldn't you know it: our fierce little tigress, slayer of wayward rodents and champion of the tall grass, had once again bounced back from the brink. she put on weight. her meow returned in full force.
it was one of many gifts we had and would receive for the duration of the princess’ reign. denial had a powerful hold on me for weeks, as I'd started to feel the notches in her spine once more; but the doctor said her lymph nodes were feeling mostly normal, remarked that her being was more substantial, and we held on to that hope until the very last. we held on until dr. regan called us an hour or so after we’d dropped meatball off for another treatment and said, I'm sorry, but I can feel her nodes again.
somehow, I expected the call before I even received it. meatball’s quality of life hadn’t decreased in any manner of obvious significance, but over the final weeks and months of her time in this mortal realm, I'd grown so in tune with her health and the deviations in her body and demeanor, however minor. the prominence of her ribs was as clear a diagnostic as any lab test, to say nothing of any disturbances in her eating and lounging patterns. these changes, like the ones preceding her eventual diagnosis, were gradual, subtle; viewing them as individual points in time, you could almost mistake them for the signs of aging, even in a cat as young as we think the princess was.
every time the disease changed course, dr. regan (and all doctors before her, for that matter) would present me with a set of options, typically in threes. this time was no different: we could try another, highly specialized course of treatment that required trained staff to administer; we could continue giving meatball the gentle elspar that had been working so well; or we could simply keep her as comfortable as possible for the remainder of her life on steroids alone.
unencumbered by emotion, I'd always prided myself on my practical, often utilitarian thinking. just like I thought I'd never elect to put my cat through chemotherapy, so too did I assume I would inherently know the right path at any crossroads during treatment. and once again, I had grossly miscalculated the impact that unimaginable sorrow would have on my decision making. as with every inflection point in this ill-fated choose your own adventure: cheating death on behalf of your cat, I hemmed and hawed.
because what do you even say when faced with those choices? for so many people, the cost of life-saving or -extending care is infeasible, often for their human and animal loved ones alike. that doesn’t make the choice any easier; I suspect in many cases, it can even make finality of such a decision that much more gut-wrenching for its lack of alternatives. but we weren’t at the end of our rope, financially, nor had we apparently exhausted our options. to me, possibilities meant hope.
just like the law, there is both a letter and spirit to interpreting a course of action. taking another route was a literal possibility, but if the guiding principle behind every decision was maintaining a good quality of life for meatball, then pursuing that path had to be in service of her best interest.
as usual, I asked the doctor, “what do you think is reasonable?” it was a cop-out, maybe, and one that flirted with unduly burdening her, but I trusted dr. regan to give me an objective response. she had already let me know that there was no shame, no defeat, in simply keeping the princess comfortable from the outset. this was her life’s work and her speciality; in the absence of known monetary hurdles, which we’d define if and when the expense became untenable, she could more readily chart the boundaries into moot territory. she could be meatball’s health advocate in a way my heart might not allow me to be.
this time, dr. regan did not recommend the alternative treatment. we agreed to take the middle ground of administering the elspar once again, and then every three weeks until it was no longer effective. in conjunction with the daily prednisolone, dr. regan said it would likely give her a few more weeks of good-quality life.
this time, when we picked meatball up from treatment, it was a different nurse who carried her out into the parking lot and into my arms. she asked me if I had paid over the phone (I had) and said the doctor wanted to see meatball again in three weeks’ time. I asked if they would schedule us ahead of time, as they’d done before. “we’ll call you,” she said, and it felt non-committal under the sag of meatball’s carrier.
they never called. not that it mattered; it was obvious to us that the elspar was no longer effective. meatball seemed stable enough in the following week. then, the week after, she started a noticeable decline.
it hurts to think about the degradation of her quality of life at all, let alone in detail, but honoring meatball’s life means honoring all of her life, the hard parts included. she’d developed chronic diarrhea and was vomiting once a day. we reasoned that she was still eating, still purring, still perky. we ordered her high-fiber food and probiotic supplements. we babied her incessantly, and she ate it up. but starting that weekend, it became clearer that she wouldn’t make it to that next appointment; the one we never even made.
on sunday, she’d barely eaten. she had grown so fearful and resistant to her steroids, that the process of medicating her became traumatic for us all. after a very early and reasonably hearty breakfast, she vomited many hours later, in a voluminous splash that sounded like a hefty water balloon tossed onto the tile, all full of partially-digested food and mucus. it was then that josh made the call to the in-home euthanasia service, and we somehow agreed to a 1pm appointment the following day, gasping for breath between sobs.
usually after she’d throw up, meatball would want to turn back around and eat again. this time, she retreated quietly outside to rest in the sun. when she ultimately came back in at night, the light in her eyes had visibly dulled. she enjoyed a few freeze-dried salmon treats from josh’s hand, but little else. I made her a nest out of a large cardboard box and a duvet cover, where she spent most of the night and the next morning, tucked away.
in the middle of the night, she heard josh get up to use the bathroom. like she often did when he rose at night, she followed him. only this time, she wanted to eat a full meal. he sat with her, petting her while she devoured her late-night dinner, listening to her purr rattle in her tiny chest before she curled up with him in bed. then, after giving him that last gift, she crawled into her box-nest and stayed until morning.
I didn’t get up with the two of them that night, though I treasure the memory of her little crunching sounds echoing in the hallway. it’s a bittersweet feeling of happiness, tinged with sorrow; I wish that I had joined them in that last moment of meatball being meatball, but at the same time, I’m happy that they had a moment of shared tenderness and vulnerability. sometimes, knowing and observing is enough. in this case, it has to be.
in the morning, I laid on the floor in front of her corrugated hut -- another property to add to her empire, and proof that anything could be a bed to meatball. she’d bunched herself up against the back of the box and when she changed positions, slowly and methodically, we saw that she’d urinated in her sleep. as far as we could know, it was the first time since her formal diagnosis. cats are clean and prideful animals, but meatball was always immaculate. while it wasn’t embarrassing for her to soil herself, it was surely unpleasant, if not outright vexing.
as painful as it is to relive the loss of her life, hashing out the loss of her trust is somehow harder. over the last two or three days, she’d been especially wary of me. it seemed any affection she had left was reserved for josh, whom I'd intentionally positioned as the “good guy,” swooping in with treats and affection after I'd administer her daily steroid. selfishly, pitifully, I needed absolution before her passing.
so, against that damnably practical nature of mine, I put a small pillow on the floor and curled up near her, careful not to block her exit route. her eyes were dull and wide; she had little interest in anything but managing her own discomfort. I tried my hardest not to cry too much. and I spoke to her.
it’s important to note that my family believes in a lot of weird shit. at least, that’s how I always saw it. as a kid, my dad would talk to me about animals having a shared soul and collective conscious. a few years ago, my aunt had gone on safari in africa and met a purported interspecies communicator; she’s now convinced she can talk to animals telepathically. and while I can neither validate or invalidate their beliefs, I can say that, at bare minimum, talking to meatball helped me. I hope it helped her, too.
I started to tell her an abbreviated version of her life story as I knew it, and as I’ve written about it. I told her that she was one of the best things to ever happen to us, and I meant it. I told her that her legacy would live on with us, and that we would never forget about her. I told her that I wasn’t going to let her suffer any longer, and that I was so proud of how strong and brave she was, and that I only ever wished to help her. I told her that all of us did everything we could; the we knew she needed us to be strong; and that help was on the way for her. I told her how much I loved her, and how much I would miss her, but that both josh and I would be okay. I told her that it was okay for her to go, that she could rest, and that we would be here for her always.
as I spoke to her, she slow-blinked a few times, an homage to the fond way with which she’d regard us when we complimented her, petted her, sang songs about her, or even asked her questions she couldn’t very well answer. when I was done, I asked her to forgive me. and for the first time in days, she leaned down to my outstretched hand and gave my fingers a lick.
perhaps I'm guilty of anthropomorphizing; maybe I sound like a quack. but somehow, meatball always knew what we needed. and even if she couldn’t understand my words, she seemed to know that I needed her love and acceptance in that moment. (and of course, I promptly lost my shit, cried, and thanked her profusely for her grace).
another hour or so passed in the box before she got up, walked to her water dish, and then promptly exited the human house through the propped-open back door, entering her domain for the last time.
meatball was weak; a shadow of her usual self. she was gaunt, frail, and visibly tired. but she relaxed in her summer house one last time. she sat on the cushioned bench where she used to perch next to josh, grooming herself while he’d read. and then, one last time, she came to lie with us in the grass, on a blanket in the sun.
among the aversions she’d developed during her bout with lymphoma, she most distrusted the sight of the two of us together. to her, it meant we were going to tag team getting her to her her appointments, and she was not having that. but she relaxed and allowed us both a spot on the blanket. she no longer purred, but she gave us both a few final head-butts. she licked my nose one last time, despite the taste of sunblock I'd slathered on. and she let us pet her for hours, until the doctor -- the last doctor in a sea of too many medical professionals -- arrived.
by this point, meatball had grown suspicious. she could sense our combined anxiety; having to don face masks didn’t help ease her skepticism. I went to greet the doctor and go over logistics. by the time I escorted her into the back yard, meatball was back on her bench, next to josh, where she loved to be.
while friendly and infinitely loving, the princess was feral at heart. we’d spent a long time socializing her, but she really only had eyes for us two. she feared other humans, especially humans dressed like doctors, and we, in turn, feared that she would try to make a break for it at the sight of dr. cheung. the nightmare scenario was that meatball would spend her last moments afraid, and being forced out of hiding by the two people she loved.
meatball tensed lightly as the gentle doctor approached, but seemed to relax just as quickly. we went through the paperwork. we picked out an urn. we tried to give meatball some ice cream, but she was too sick for it. then, the doctor gave her the first shot, a combination of morphine and general anesthesia.
being true to meatball’s legacy and experience, and without having the human words to share her thoughts, I can safely say that meatball fucking hated that shot. for a brief, wild moment as her angry yowl culminated in a fierce hiss, my brain panicked with thoughts of, “these are her last conscious moments and they are filled with fury and betrayal.” she tried to run off, up the stairs and onto the deck, towards the house. she made it up, but not inside; the drugs worked quickly, and Josh and I followed her with reassurances.
honestly, I can’t remember what either of us said. I don’t know if it mattered. I think we both petted her. I think we both told her we loved her. and she began to settle, the drugs taking her pain and discomfort away. she eased into a peaceful sleep. at some point, I became painfully aware of my face mask filling up with snot. I felt like I was choking for air. I worried I would pass out there next to her.
dr. cheung clearly felt bad about meatball’s reaction. she came and tenderly folded a soft blanket under meatball’s little head. she let us sit and pet her for awhile. while we’d been forewarned, the sight of meatball’s beautiful, but unseeing eyes was disconcerting for me. I forced myself to look anyway.
her breathing was even and steady for the first time in days, unburdened by pain or nausea. her little front paw twitched involuntarily. dr. cheung, comforting us as well as herself, I suspect, told us, “if she knew from the start that we were giving her a peaceful end to her suffering, she would have held her leg out willingly.” then, even more quietly, she said, “I can feel the lumps in her belly. there are so many.”
I don’t know how much time we took, holding each other and crying, petting meatball and repeating assurances that she couldn’t hear, much less comprehend. I clipped a few tufts of belly fur off of her while she slept, a practice that felt mildly violative but still preferable to defilement of a corpse. at some point, not too long after, we gave the doctor the okay to administer the euthanasia.
maybe I'm a coward, but I couldn’t watch meatball take her last breath. I held her front paw, the one that had twitched, the entire time. seconds (minutes?) later, dr. cheung held her stethoscope to meatball’s chest and said quietly, “she has passed.” I opened my eyes to look at hers, which had dilated unnaturally under the bright sky. part of me sincerely wishes I hadn’t burned that last image into my brain; still, I didn’t look at her belly, no longer rising and falling in the gentle cadence of calm breath. I buried my face in josh’s shoulder and kept hold of meatball’s little paw until we signaled dr. cheung to take her.
as soul-crushing as it is to hold your pet while they breathe their last, to sit with their little body in death, to feel the oppressive weight of finality descend upon you, and to be so painfully raw and vulnerable in front of a stranger, it came with a sense of relief for an end to her struggle.
from her perch on the top step, the doctor slowly -- so very slowly -- removed the blanket from under meatball’s head and laid it out on the deck next to her. she gently shimmied the waterproof pad under meatball’s backside and used it to carefully lift her onto the blanket, supporting her head and she went. although meatball would not have known, in death, if she’d emptied her bowels, we were glad for her sake that she hadn’t. this day, she did not vomit. she went to the bathroom moments before the doctor had arrived.
dr. cheung swaddled meatball like an infant in her arms, leading us out to the back of her SUV where she lowered the bundle of meatball into a lined basket; a baby in a bassinet. finally, she peeled the blanket back from meatball’s little face so we could see her one last time, at peace, with yet another bed to her name -- as was her way.
life after meatball
meatball died on monday, december 21, 2020 at approximately 1:30pm. it was the winter solstice, and a day that marked the great conjunction of jupiter and saturn. somewhere, some sect surely believed this would be the day the world would end; for me, it may as well have been.
that may seem melodramatic, even to an avowed animal lover, but if you were lucky enough to be loved by meatball, it would feel like the understatement it is.
everywhere you were, there was meatball: loud, expressive, and a little bossy at times. she was so talkative, never minding the fact that we spoke in different tongues. over time, she only seemed to grow louder and more insistent, her meow often being mistaken for a screaming child in the background. strangely, she relished receiving pets while she ate. in fact, she would often consume her meal with more gusto once she had a hand gliding down her back and a familiar human voice praising her, bestowing formal recognition upon her as the very good eater that she was. we joked, once, that we’d created a monster by coddling her so; it seemed that after years of indulging her, well, indulgent behavior, she began requiring an audience for her meals.
demanding though she may have been, she gave back a thousandfold. every time we returned home, always entering through the back yard, she would greet us enthusiastically, meowing and chirping and sticking her little face through the gap between the gate and the side of the house. she knew the sounds of our footfalls and the scent of our presence drawing nearer. oftentimes we wouldn’t make it through the door without showering her with affection, petting her belly while she rolled around on the ground, flipping back and forth and purring.
our PDA didn’t hold a candle to hers, though. meatball was a connoisseur of hand hugs, stretching out her limbs while we’d stroke her chest, then retracting them in a firm embrace around the hand whosever hand was tending her, nuzzling her face into the touch with a small, accompanying squeal, eyes squeezed shut. she loved to kiss and be kissed; we would take turns kissing the patch of golden fur on her forehead before presenting our own faces, upon which she graciously reciprocated the act.
but she needed no invitation to lavish you with licks from her sandpaper tongue. meatball would approach the both of us at eye level and lick our foreheads, cheeks, noses, chins, and hair, wholly unsolicited. to this day, and for at least the year prior, I’ve sported a perpetual small, circular red spot at the tip of my otherwise bloodless nose; a physical testament to her unending devotion. earlier this year, I had resolved to discourage meatball kisses in the hopes that the mark, so obvious against my pale flesh, would eventually go away. it’s thoughts like those that make me feel so sick and sad. fortunately, I lacked the resolve to keep her at bay for long.
meatball loved to press her forehead against yours; rub the side of her face against yours; nuzzle you unabashedly and for absolutely no discernible reason. if you held a book or beverage or device in your hands, well, she would head-butt your hands and whatever thing that occupied them. at the risk of assigning human motivations to a tabby cat, we never got the sense that meatball’s sole objective was commanding your attention. rather, meatball was a cat that took matters into her own paws: if your fingers weren’t available for caressing her, she’d pet herself on them while you went about your business.
similarly, meatball could make her own fun. she never lacked for toys (or cardboard boxes), but when her mortal nemesis, rainbow snake, was nowhere to be found, she would just... attack the blankets. or the grass. or launch herself at a piece of furniture.
more than anything in the world, meatball loved life. her vigor went beyond the unmistakable survival instinct that connects humans and animals by a spiritual thread; everything captivated meatball. every sound, every smell, every sun beam, every breeze, every little movement or flash of light. she took such joy in drinking fresh rainwater out of the divots in the deck; in watching the squirrels run along the fence; in being brushed; in receiving treats of any sort; in having one of us spoon her wherever she lay.
to write about her like this almost makes her seem needy; to the contrary, she was fiercely independent and happy to be part of the action without inserting herself at its center. she wasn’t a lap cat, but she was a lover through and through. and while concepts like time and gratitude were much too human to project unto her, I know that she spent the rest of her short life expressing her gratefulness to us for having saved her. I felt her thanks in every lick, every slow blink, every purr.
2020 was a tough fucking year for so many people. I know that josh and I are among the luckiest of the bunch: we didn’t get sick, none of our human friends or family members fell ill, and both of us were able to work from home. we have good neighbors, a big back yard (that meatball generously let us use), and live in the heart of silicon valley, where we could have everything delivered to us with relative speed and ease.
but comparing the suffering of one human to another is apples to oranges. despite our position of relative privilege, we suffered heavily under the demands of our respective jobs. like everyone else, we were robbed of our routines, unable to see friends or be part of the community in the ways that we so enjoyed: the farmer’s markets, local coffee shops and restaurants, our favorite small businesses, and even the occasional trip to the coast. the stress of us politics and global events weighed on us. quarantine was depressing, the world was depressing, and life as we knew it just... changed. it was ok to grieve that loss.
the one bright spot: we could spend more time with our pets. meatball, in particular, loved this. for one, it meant that she wouldn’t have to choose between indoors and outside; we would leave the back door propped open with the metal, cat-shaped doorstop, allowing her an easy transition between spaces at will. it also meant that we could take lunches and breaks with her out on the patio or in the grass. and if she wanted a morsel or two of food she wouldn’t otherwise get outside -- we didn’t want to attract ants or other critters, after all -- well, then, that was just a bonus.
the sensible part of me is glad that we had this time together, in light of her diagnosis. it allowed us to be present for her and to maximize the remainder of her life with us. it also gave us flexibility with scheduling medication and feedings, and the peace of mind that we would always be around with her if a complication arose.
the irrationally angry, still-grieving part of me is so unbelievably gutted that the universe saw fit to take away my one silver lining of this fucking pandemic. that, by acknowledging what was most important to me, I somehow doomed her to be taken away.
and I know, I know: it’s better to have loved and lost. barring another tragedy, I knew we’d both outlive meatball, and that even another decade with her wouldn't have been long enough. I know she’ll live on in our hearts; I know that loving her made us better people. but right now, I'm struggling to breathe under the crushing, suffocating, unfathomable absence of her. the back yard is overwhelming in its energy and the absoluteness of never hearing her curious and joyful meows again.
because for all the routines we’d abruptly given up in march of this year, meatball so often was the routine. it might not sound rational or healthy to say, but in many ways, our day-to-day life revolved around meatball (and our other pets, past and present). despite my misgivings about enabling outdoor cats, meatball’s origin story made it entirely impractical for us to imprison her in a house, and the assortment of california fauna that might scrabble its way indoors in her stead had rendered the possibility of a cat door equally futile (to say nothing of the fact that we’ve been renting for the last five years, anyway). this meant that meatball needed a perpetual doorwoman at her beck and call; apparently, this was my true life’s work.
it would be dishonest of me to suggest I always accommodated her willingly and happily. leaving the door open was fine during the day, but at night, we’d close and lock it. if meatball wanted inside, she would have to yell to get our attention, scratch mercilessly at the back door, or both in tandem.
sometimes it would only be once a night. more often, it would be two, three, or even four times she’d want in and out: to get a bite of food, to cuddle in the warmth of the bed, or for some unfathomable, attention-seeking reason I couldn’t comprehend at 3am. sometimes I groused about it; occasionally, I would have a meltdown about it. but I always did it. I never wanted meatball to feel like she would be abandoned by us or that she couldn’t have access to food or fresh water. similarly, and despite the obvious toll the cumulative sleep loss took on my health, I wanted reassurance that she hadn’t been captured by a nocturnal predator, hadn’t ventured outside of the yard and gotten herself injured or worse, and wasn’t suffering in an unexpected storm or drop in overnight temperature. and if she was in some sort of trouble, then I would never forgive myself for sleeping through her distress.
so many other rituals revolved around meatball’s wants and needs (or our various interpretations of them). she would wait outside the bathroom door if you were in it, waiting to be greeted. she would frequent “treat station,” a grassroots cat treat co-op sprung up from the bench at our dining room table where she’d sit and wait silently for one of us to give her some goodies. she would simply sit between us on the couch at night, watching whatever was happening on the big screen while her humans were preoccupied with their small screens, taking turns at absently petting her.
her loss is felt in every corner of this property. I struggle to resume the search for a house to purchase, because leaving here means leaving a part of her behind. we can open the back door and glance two paces ahead at the spot where she died, a few of her little hairs sitting dormant until the next rainfall. we can take with us the furniture and the many blankets she loved, but the yard she owned and championed, the space where she lived her best until she ultimately perished, cannot be taken with us.
the ugliest side of grief
writing this out has been cathartic, in many ways, and painful as a motherfucker in others; I don’t know that the two are mutually exclusive. but still, it feels like the journey through inexplicable loss has just begun.
the thing is, we were trapped in a cycle of mourning for meatball with no foreseeable closure until now -- and even now, truth be told. cold fear had me gripped in the weeks leading up to her diagnosis, bone chillingly aware of how bad a sign unexplained weight loss was in cats. we feared we’d lose her before her treatment would even begin. then, her incredible response gave us such hope. we wept and grieved when she lost her voice; we cried any time she showed a sign of illness or discomfort. we knew that we couldn’t save her life; only buy her some time and solace.
I used to think that when meatball did eventually pass -- innumerable years into an abstract future, as I'd imagined it then -- I would have no regrets about the life we provided for her. and on the whole, I really don’t. right now -- today and all days following her passing, though hopefully someday with decreased frequency -- I struggle with the kind of guilt only wrought from hindsight.
was there anything I could have done differently? was I not careful enough in administering her medication? did the droplets that leaked from the corners of her mouth or ricocheted off the insides of her cheeks make a difference of weeks or months? should I have at least tried the alternative treatment? was there anything else I could have done for her pain? should I have called the vet about her diarrhea and vomiting sooner?
if I knew that princess meatball would die on december 21, 2020, would I have still explored all of the treatment options I did? was it worth it?
did she know how much I loved her?
did I force her to prolong her suffering on my account?
so many of these questions have answers I can’t possibly know. I know that I did my best; we both did. I know that we gave her a merciful end, even if she was angry about the needle part at first. I know that she isn’t suffering any more. yes, we could have called a day or two sooner and prevented any further decline; but with her ability to rebound after a bad day, it felt almost premature. I feel absolutely certain that the timing was right based the information we had.
she knew that I loved her, even if she couldn’t understand why I constantly subjected her to things she didn’t like. she knew that I didn’t like those things either, I think. whether there was anything I did or didn’t do: who knows? everything I did for her was out of pure love, and for most of the treatment cycles, she was relatively comfortable and happy. she didn't like going to the vet, but she loved sitting on my lap for the car ride home. she hated her medicine, but she enjoyed being rewarded with tuna water and brushes under her chin. the treatment side effects, when they did manifest, were mild and few. and for awhile, we saw her enjoy herself as she used to.
her loss is profound, and it chokes me throughout the day. I want to fight against fate, or give up and die, too. but that would be very silly of me to do, when a little tabby cat who weighed no more than five and a half pounds at the time of her death could fight so hard to stay alive for her people.
rest well, my golden-crowned princess. your light lives on in us.
#pet loss#grief/mourning#pet death tw#needles tw#bodily fluids tw#all the fucking sad in my body just dumped here on the page#hyperventilated at least twice while writing this#cried constantly but it's fine#honestly feel like i could write an entire trilogy about my grief and still have plenty of sad leftover for the footnotes#loved this cat more than i love most people#2020 is dumb af
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My Philosophy on Dog Training part 3
Once your dog's entire makeup is clear to you, you'll find it easier to do the right thing automatically. And knowing the full range of feats that dogs can perform will give you greater confidence for the more elementary steps. The Love Fallacy One of the chief reasons we have difficulty understanding dogs is, paradoxically, because.they've been associated with us for such a long time-so much so that we take them for granted. The first evidence of dog's association with man is found at the Mesolithic site of Star Carr in England about 9500 B.c when the
dog's superior sense of smell probably directed man to within bowshot of food animals. Recently in the ruins of Pompeii the lava casts of the bodies of a little boy and his huge dog were found. On the dog's bronze collar was the still legible inscription: "This dog has saved his little master three times once from fire, once from drowning, and once from thieves." The dog had obviously tried to rescue his master once more. * Very few domestic animals were found in the archaeological excavations of Pompeii. Animals instinctively know of impending catastrophe, and obviously most of the dogs fled before the eruption occurred. The night before the San Francisco earthquake in 1906, dogs barked strangely. Horses snorted and stampeded minutes before anyone realized what was going on. In the mountains of Sicily, people leave their houses should the dogs suddenly exit. * In England,medals and trophies are awarded for canine bravery. One is the National Canine Defense League Medal, the dog's version of the Victoria Cross. Swansea Jack, a black retriever, saved twenty-seven people from drowning at the Swansea Docks and was awarded the dog's V.C. Chum was decorated by the Duke of Gloucester for bravery in saving two people from a fire. The dog was sixteen years old. John Garfield once turned down a film role which required him to mistreat a dog. "Slapping women, robbing kids, yes, but the public would never forgive anyone who kicked a dog." One of my most unforgettable clients was a man in his forties who had built a towering reputation in New York's manufacturing community. Midway through his executive life, he acquired a Newfoundland puppy. He found that he had barely enough time to play with the dog when he came home in the evening. Most owners would compromise with such a p full schedule, but not this gentleman. He retired from his enormously successful business and moved away from his family. During the winters he and the Newfoundland went to live in Florida, where he served as a cabana attendant. In the summers he came north again, to tend bar and have the full day to spend with his dog. For seven years he relished his full-time companionship, never missing his previously wealthy life. Then tragedy struck; the Newfoundland became ill with a spine problem. Over $ 10,000 was spent on surgery and recuperation kennels, but the dog was still unable to walk. His owner hired physiotherapists to take the dog swimming each day in the surf-but to no avail, and eventually he had his pet put to sleep. Heartbroken, the man no longer had any "excuse to keep on with his nomadic existence”. He went back to his old line of work, and in a few short months, he had turned a few inventive ideas into a fortune. This brought him no particular joy, but his success was a thorn in the side of his competitors who retaliated-if you can call it that-by leaving another lovely puppy literally on the doorstep of his brownstone. And indeed, he became so involved with his new pet that again he left his business to spend his waking hours with a four-legged companion. An unhappy majority of the population work at jobs they don't like, taking orders from others, forced to hold back their emotions. When they return home in the evening, their only emotional outlet is through their family or their pets. Those who live alone have no immediate family, so they use the dog to balance the day's ledgers either by being nice or being nasty. When they realize that the animal will accept them with no backtalk, they usually look forward to coming home and enjoying their animal. I always remind owners that the ultimate one-to-one relationship is with another person. But if a man wants to take a walk after supper to relax and do some heavy thinking, who does he choose to take along-his wife, his kids, or the dog? People can tell a dog anything, be inconsistent and ill-tempered, and still be assured of faithful love. Some people tell me that if it weren't for their dogs, they couldn't have gotten through moments of stress. When I'm bothered about certain things, I find it relaxing just walking and playing and even talking to my dog. My wife finds pleasure holding her dog in her arms and dancing with him to some good music. I hate to admit it, but if I had to choose between saving my dog and a total human stranger, I would probably save the dog. Check the daily listings in the newspapers lost-and-found column to see how much the average dog can mean to its owners. And once a dog is adopted into the family, no expense seems too high to be justified. An interesting example of this occurred to a New York couple, each of whom was extremely wrapped up in a career. They acquired a collie and since neither was able to walk the animal on any regular schedule, a professional dog walking service was hired. When the husband complained about the bills, the wife told him simply, ,It's too late. “The dog is already part of the family." The status conscious will pick a breed that's very showy and obviously very expensive: a saluki, Afghan, or Russian wolfhound. The dogs that New York's -swinging singles pick are all very good measurements of what the owners want you to think of them. But the owners who worry me are those who choose certain breeds to compensate for their own deficiencies. Some people want very aggressive dogs because either they are, or want to be, aggressive people. Specifically, I find that many owners themselves are physically shy and feel put-upon. So they choose a dog who's anything but. The most common problem, of course, is that the shy master finds it difficult to control an animal he has already decided is 46 stronger' than he is. Many people consider their dog a human being, or at least a creature who appreciates the same luxuries we do. Who hasn't seen households with covered-up chairs for the dog's comfort, televisions turned to a certain channel "for the dogs"? On Park Avenue, there's a poodle who lives in the utmost of style. He has steps up to his bed so that he doesn't have to jump. A rubber mat lies under his sheets, which are changed daily by a maid hired especially for this purpose. The poodle is fed pits, caviar, and champagne, and has a tailor-made wardrobe. His mistress doesn't want to inhibit him in any way. A middle-aged woman called me to check on what supplies she would need for a weekend trip to the Poconos. When questioned what she had already added to the carload, she listed dog deodorizer, foam cushions, food, water bowls, chew bones, toys, a spatula, and a New York Times.
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Here We Go Again chapter 7
Craig woke up the next morning feeling completely lazy and sluggish. He always felt this way the day after Thanksgiving, but today was different. Michael’s arms were around him, for one, his head nestled into the crook of his neck. Second, he felt content. Michael and Amanda were integrated into his family seamlessly. Amanda interacted with his mother like she had been in the family for years. Michael was reintegrated like he had never left their lives in the first place.
He rolled over and looked at the clock. 9:30. His eyes widened. He had slept in! On accident! That never happened. At the very least his kids would have woken him up to feed them on the odd occasion that he did sleep in. He was about to get up and out of bed when he felt Michael stir.
“Mmm… don’t go,” he mumbled. “Warm…”
“It’s 9:30, bro,” he whispered.
“So…?”
“Gotta get up, bro,” he said.
“Brooo, it’s the day after Thanksgiving,” he murmured. “Relax.” He kissed his bro’s neck lazily.
Craig relented and wrapped his arms back around his bro. “I got you, bro.”
Michael nuzzled his face and snuggled closer to him. “Feels good, bro.”
How did I become this lucky? He wondered. He kissed his bro’s cheek and went back to sleep.
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As the spare room had not yet been repurposed into the second nursery, Amanda woke up that morning around 11:30 to discover her grandmother was 1) still there and 2) cooking breakfast consisting of biscuits and eggs.
“Morning, Gramms,” she said, stifling a yawn. She made her way over to the coffee pot. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite grandmother?”
“No you can’t have a biscuit yet,” she said from the stove, “but they’ll be ready soon. And don’t call me Gramms. I’m not that old, yet.”
“Gran?”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Nan?”
“Do you want to die?”
“What can I call you, then?” she asked. Sitting down as she waited for her coffee to finish.
“Grandma.”
“Everyone calls you Grandma!” she protested.
“Exactly. It’s easier to keep track of,” she said shortly.
“I got it! ‘Gramma!’” she exclaimed, jumping out of her chair.
“That’ll work, dear,” she put the eggs in a bowl.
“Yes!”
Amanda looked over at the clock. 11:00 “Where’s Craig? Shouldn’t he be coming back from some intense workout and drinking kombucha?”
“What the hell is kombucha?” Courtney asked turning around at last.
“I have no idea, but it’s all the rage with health nuts these days,” Amanda said.
“Kid, you wanna know the secrets to a long, healthy life?” Courtney said, pointing the spatula at her. “Drink water. Eat bacon. Swear like hell. Basically, if it makes you happy and doesn’t hurt other people, do it. Life’s too short to be unhappy.”
“Whoa, Gramma. My mind is blown.”
Courtney laughed. “My boy needed to let his hair down and relax,” she said pouring some coffee for herself and Amanda. “So I snuck some melatonin into his water last night.”
“You spiked your son’s drink?” Amanda said, her eyes so wide they seemed they might fall out of her head.
Courtney gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Our little secret.”
“Teach me your ways, wise one.” Amanda said reverently.
“Haven’t you been paying attention? That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
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Craig stirred again from his sleep feeling more rested than he had in a long time. He rolled ever and looked at the clock. Shit it’s noon! He stretched and got up out of bed. Michael was still sleeping, or maybe he was just dozing peacefully. He wandered down to the kitchen. Someone’s cooking. Who’s still here?
“Morning sleepy head,” his mother said. There were homemade biscuits, a bowl full of scrambled eggs, bacon, and a bowl of chopped cantaloupe. Amanda, the girls, and his parents were all seated at the table waiting for him.
“Go get your boyfriend,” his mother said. “Or the food will get cold.”
He turned around, still not quite sure he wasn’t dreaming, but there was food on the table that he didn’t make so he wasn’t going to argue. He went back to their room. Michael was still in bed, hugging one of his pillows. He smiled. His bro was cute when he was sleeping. He went over and sat on the bed. Michael groaned in his sleep.
“Rise and shine, bro,” he said. “There’s food downstairs.”
“What kind offood?” he mumbled.
“Eggs, bacon, cantaloupe, biscuits,” he listed. “She said to eat before it gets cold.”
Michael stirred reluctantly at the promise of food. “Good ‘m starving.”
Eventually they stumbled back out to the dining room where Courtney placed a tall glass of water in front of Michael. Michael glowered at it before drinking it. Craig piled his plate for him with food from the various bowls on the table.
“I’m surprised you can eat eggs,” Courtney commented. “I remember when I was pregnant with Craig, I couldn’t stand them.”
“I haven’t had much trouble with smells this time around,” Michael said. “When I was pregnant with Amanda, I felt like every little smell sent me to the toilet to vomit my guts out. This time, my taste has changed. I’m eating more fish than I’ve ever had in my life.”
“Lucky,” she commented. “Fish was the thing that I was most sensitive to.”
“Hey I don’t mind,” Craig said. “Fish is good for you.”
“All I care is that I can eat it without losing it afterwards,” Michael said, taking a bite out of his biscuit.
“Silver lining, Popsicle. Like you always told me,” Amanda said cheerfully. “Your boyfriend makes a mean salmon.”
“High praise,” Craig grinned.
“So dad,” Hazel said, growing bored with the whole conversation. “Are we going shopping today?”
“It’s Black Friday, are you crazy?” he replied. “Everyone’s going shopping today, we might get in a brawl during the shopping trip.”
“Sounds cool!” she replied. “When do we go?”
The mall was literally a nut house. They couldn’t even find a parking spot. Of course, the only reason they were there in the first place wasn’t to get Christmas gifts for the kids. Michael wanted to browse for baby stuff. Onesies, clothes, toys and such. And what better time to get expensive baby supplies than the day when everything was on sale?
“Remind me why we can’t just reuse some baby clothes when River’s done using them?” Craig asked.
“We will, but it’s fun to go shopping, bro,” Michael replied. “Besides, how much of Hazel and Briar’s clothes did you keep?’
“Yeah, sure, fair point. On any day but Black Friday,” Craig said.
“Just think of it as a broventure!” Michael said cheerfully as they walked through the mall doors.
“Dad, please don’t call it that,” Amanda said, rolling her eyes.
It was a post-apocalyptic scene which awaited them. Hundreds of people milling about shoving each other aside to get through to the stores. Craig and Michael wove through the crowds and eventually they got to the baby store. It was surprisingly calm compared to other shops in the mall. Michael made a beeline for the baby clothes section where he began inspecting different themed clothes with baby animals, like dogs and cats and elephants and lions and giraffes. One yellow onesie even had a capybara, in River’s size, no less! Craig immediately added it to the pile of things to buy (Amanda’s arms).
“Can we stop at Dead, Goth, and Beyond after this?” Amanda asked.
“Why? You want a t-shirt?” Michael asked, inspecting a green shirt with strawberries on it. He put it back.
“Shirts, wallet chains, make up, accessories,” she listed off. “You know, basic girl stuff.”
“I will buy you a single item,” Michael said.
“Yes!”
“Why a single item?” Craig asked.
“I need to know what to go shopping for later for Christmas,” he replied.
“Touché.”
They eventually left the store with their bags of baby clothes in varying sizes and one wallet chain. Craig looked at the bags he was carrying and wondered what had happened to just using River’s old clothes. Not that he was complaining, really. The clothes were cute. He just wondered why they ended up buying so much. The good news was that he had some ideas of what to get his girls for Christmas. Thankfully they were athletic girls and into fairly inexpensive sports.
“Why did we buy so many different sizes of clothes, dad?” Amanda said.
“Because babies grow quickly and even though I’m only 10 weeks pregnant, baby supplies are expensive and best to start getting them early,” Michael replied.
“How many babies are you expecting to have though?” she asked.
“All babies use a shocking amount of diapers and eat a shocking amount of food,” he said matter-of-factly. “And I’m having two.”
“It’s true,” Craig said. “Even when Hazel and Briar were babies it was mind blowing how much stuff Smashley and I went through just to keep them clothed and fed.”
“I used to be so glad I’d never had twins,” Michael said. “I’m definitely not looking forward to getting up in the middle of the night to take care of them.”
“Yeah, dude,” Craig said. “I never thought I’d sleep again when they were born. But it was worth it.”
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Training Journal - Lily and Alone Time(tm)
So, in light of recent events (aka coming back from my grandma’s funerals after being super sick and leaving her with a friend overnight) I thought my next training journal should be about Lily and Alone Time(tm).
Here is a link to the first Training Journal : What’s the Matter? where I introduce her and the oh so fun behavioral problems/troubles I discovered/caused unwillingly by my (at the time) undoubful ignorance.
Little reminder; I adopted her and she was almost 2 aready, and obviously did not come from the greatest most loving and educated house. Also, her parents are not the most well-behaved/balanced dogs ever. We met her mother a cuple months after I got her by finding the original “””breeder””” by pure luck. Mom is A Mess with so many agression issues?? why she’s not spayed/got in contact long enough with an unaltered male to have a litter (and a 2d one from what I’ve seen on the girl’s fb) is beyond my logic.
So, Lily did not get a good start in life, plus she got dealt some pretty shitty genetics as far as I know. Add to that the fact that when i got her, i was a single introvert working full time with crippling anxiety and depression knocking at my door. Needless to say, she’s not the super DONOTLETMEALONEOROUTOFYOURSIGHT dog for nothing. I recognize my responsiblity in this since I basically used her as an emtional crutch until I got the meds I needed, and got the help I was so desperate for. So, check on owner’s responsibility for enhancing what was an already unsure/easily anxious dog into this utmost disaster of separation anxiety.
(Like right now, we’re both in the living room eating, and she’s in her crate, with the door closed, a bowl of kibbles and a Kong with cheese in it. She’s still crying like a martyr at the door, driving us crazy, and gf is having a HARD TIME not shushing her off. I am too, but I know I have to wait until she’s quiet. And it’s not like it’s uncomfortable. She has the biggest cushion ever.)
So, yeah. Here are the different things I’ve tried, and their resulting catastrophes, in the 2 appartments we’ve lived in. To be noted, in all the scenarios, she’s been fed, went potty/was walked beforehand and was alone for a normal work day of a full time working person who commutes (aka 8-9 hours/day monday thru friday).
1. Free roaming : this was when I lived alone, in my old appartment that had a little office like room, where I kept my art stuff, and my bedroom, which had doors. It had a long hallway with the living room giving to a big window (1st floor level with a balcony) right at the entrance, and the kitchen at the ther end, with a backdoor leading to a parking lot. The bathroom was at opposite end of the front door, and it was always closed too. Free roaming meant all doors open, and it resulted in a lot of precious art supplies being chewed, lots of colorfoul pawprints and couches being chewed A LOT and also pee and poop in the hallway an stepped on contiuously. Free roaming was combined with a half hour walk every morning, and a usual day of 8hrs being left alone. That lasted a whole... four days because i wasn’t going to have all my art stuff destroyed.
2. All doors closed: this came with even more couch chewing and destroying, dinner table jumping, trying to jump through the living room window and, still, pee and poop. Oh, and now, book and dvd chewing (RIP horse encyclopedia and New Girl s1 dvd case these never recovered from the intense hatred). I tried to block couch access with the coffee table on one.. she said fuck you and dragged THE ENTIRE 2d COUCH in the middle of the living room, pooped behind it and tore off the back leather piece. Also tried blocking living room access with kitchen chairs + coffee table... she just pushed her way in and made it impossible for me to come in after work through the front door.
3. Closed bedroom: now, let me explain my reasoning on this one. She slept every night with me, and my bedroom smelled like me, and I figured if she was anxius because I wasn’t there, then being in the room that smelled the most ike me would be an okay thing. Oh, how was I wrong. I lost three shirts the first day; one to smeared pee and poop, one to being simply torn and the third to being on the wrong hanger that got chewed (and thus, the shirt too). I was not going to have her rip through all my clothes, so that did not at all fit.
4. Closed small office with furniture, no crate : all of the above was before I got a crate from a friend, and this one is the last without one. I decided to put all her blankets and cushion stuff in the small office, clearing everything (shoving all loose stuff in the closet) from reach. Paint was stored away. Pens and pencils were tucked in cases. Drawing pads were on high shelves. There were drawings on the wall, but I didn’t think much of that. There was still piss and crap everywhere when I got home, and most day, I’d have to wash all he blankets bc she’d either soaked them in her water bowl, or peed on them. I tried to make this become her room by playing and training her in there. Also, food and treats were only dispenses in there. I tried one (1) time to have her sleep there by herself.... i didn’t make it to midight without her. Oh, and scratched so much with her nose that she got it all bloody and crusty and it was gross and the back of the door was covered in blood strikes and some of my most prized drawings were... shredded. So, yeah. Fun. Times.
I’m going to have to cut this post in 2 parts because it’s getting super long, and I’m probably only half way to it. But, next attempts at managing Lily and Alone Time (tm) are all with a crate, so I figured that,s a good place to stop this one. Also, safe to be noted that it’s around this time I REALLY started learning and educating myself on dog behaviors and how to properly train. Beforehand, I’d use mostly emotional stuff, so, even though I,m not proud ot admit this, I did yell and get mad at her when I tried different things for her alone time and she still ended up destroying a lot of things and I ad to pick up and clean alost every room every night. Also, these were all tried and failed during the time I was going through a very veeeeery rough anxiety patch, right before I went to see a professional and got diagnosed and medicated. So, a lot of feelings from both of us were involved, and also, some shitty training before we get to the actual education.
#training journal#lil wiggle butt the second#lily#dog training#dog behavior#separation anxiety#dog management#dogblr#bully mix#bully breed mix#bully mutt
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Seoul, day 3 - they just left me ㅠㅠ
I had an extrem short night again. Not that I went to bed so late, like the night before, due to not being very active during the flights. But my body had decided around half past 2 in the night: that's enough, though my eyes were falling shut. This was going to be a hard day. Thanks body.
Back to the 3rd day. So on a quite short notice via KakaoTalk it was decided that this day we weren't having classes but an excursion to the National Museum of Korea (국립중앙박물관) and the National Hangeul Museum (국립한글박물관).
All of the students are connected with the CEO, teachers and co-students via KakaoTalk, the Korean equivalent to WhatsApp, Messenger or other social messengers. Emoticons, which are much cooler btw., can be bought for small money. Especially, emoticons by K-Pop idols are very famous amongst K-Pop fans and Teenagers.
So the whole school was devided into two groups, depending on when you have your general Korean lessons. So for my group it was 10 am at Chungmuro Station (충무로). Another pro of having metro station with several exits is, that you can meet up at a certain exit, without having to walk an extra mile, just to get where you want to. So you can just say: 'Let's meet inside exit 3' and you won't miss each other as well as getting most easily to where you actually want to go.
After all students attendance were checked (of course with mobile phones - duh) we went in groups via metro to Ichon Station (이촌), exit 2 where both museums are.
You first come across the Mirror pond. A beautiful pond surrounded by nice buildings and trees. This alone offers a beautiful scenery.
When going up the steps, you'll get right in front of the National Museum of Korea.
At least one class of kids (surprisingly not in school uniforms) went in with us. Maybe it was just my impression, but they are as loud as German classes. Another surprise, both museums are totally for free.
And there is so much to see. The building was build and design very well. You start on ground level on the right side and move along the exhibits and finish this level coming out of the left side of the upside down U. Then you can continue your round on the next level. This way you won't pass by exits, that might have been interesting.
Most of us weren't really eager to visit these museums, but it was extremely fascinating, as it is a culture so far away from ours, and even more fascinating what they developed how and in which era. I know, that around the beginning of the 1900s they were still in the Joseon Dynasty. Ever watched a Korean Drama (well, you really need to, they are awesome)? A lot of their historical drama play in the Joseon Dynasty....no industry, no cars, no electricity, no advanced medicine. Probably comparable with the Roman Empire (by knowledge and technical development).
A lot of art was also displayed.
I found the way of displaying the exhibits very beautiful. This way you were able to make stunning picture, though a bit blurred, as you weren't allowed to use your flashlight. But still, I think, they turned out pretty good.
At around half past 12 we all went to get lunch. The museum has a small food court with cheap food. Unfortunately, everyone had that idea and while we had been walking around level by level, another 10 classes and a huge group of elderlies had joined the party. So the food court was over crowded. Three Swiss students, that I somewhat befriended, and I decided to go to a restaurant just in front of the museum called Mirror Pond Restaurant. A little bit high priced, but as most Korean food, more than enough. One meal could have fed two women. But it was soooooooo delicious. Like to all meals, you get Banchan (the small bowls next to the coke) to the meal. Those are cold side dishes, that compliment each meal. At least one of it is always Kimchi.
To this meal we also received 3 small Pajeon, small pancakes made with Kimchi (the red ones) and green onion, maybe with sea food (the green one). Maybe, because I haven't even tried them, as my dish, some kind of Japchae/Bibimbab mix was so much, I could hardly eat half of it. Such a shame to leave it. ㅠㅠ (But if you have ever seen one of those videos Korean people watch, where people are eating, you will know that this is impossible to eat all. I mean I'm just watching a show about one of those "YouTubers" and they showed how expanded their stomach is.....That's really sick.)
Just like in the U.S. water is served for free to each meal. The water is nice and cool and even I like to drink it.
After having payed about 19,000 Won (= about € 14,59, pretty expensive for a Korean meal) we went back to the meeting point and went on to the National Hangeul Museum, right next door. You just have to go through a small park, which is really beautiful. I will make pictures, when I return there. I had the feeling, I haven't taken in every exhibit, as much as I wanted to. Especially, with hundreds of kids having to fill out some kind of questionnaire.
The Hangeul Museum describes the way the Korean language was developed. One of the few spoken languages that were artificially created, leaned onto the former Chinese/Korean language. The museum also describes the way, modern medicine helped introducing new words into Korean vocabulary, as Korean medicine and therefore their language was pretty holistic. This exhibition is also very interesting, but unfortunately not all exhibit descriptions were translated. So sometimes all you can do is to look at the beautiful exhibits. What I really liked were the old typewriters and their keyboard. It was totally different from todays keyboard. I do't know, how they were able to write with that?
The museums shop was also the first time on this travel that I bought some souvenirs. Just a keychain and a bottle for drinks. I think, I will keep it on the low with souvenirs, as I need to put them somewhere as well.
Afterwards I looked out for my co-students and teacher, and all were gone. ㅠㅠ A second ago, I had just seen 3 of them, hanging around, and suddenly everyone was gone. I tried to wait a bit, to see if they were still in the exhibition, but no one was to be found. And the weather being so hot, I didn't wanted to wait much longer outside, so I made my way home. We were to meet in the evening anyway, for a welcome Newbies 치맥 (Tshimaek = Chicken 치킨 and Beer 맥주)
But plans just didn't worked out that well. Though I generally love all kind of meat here in Korea, being out in the open the whole day might have not been that good. Either I caught a cold or something or the pollution was so bad, that my throat hurt pretty bad and even drinking water didn't help at all. I downloaded several apps beforehand to get warnings if Yellow Dust will be blown over to Korea (usually more around May) or how bad the pollution is. That day it was straight on yellow, meaning, not so great but just keep the windows closed and don't do sports outside. But obviously I'm not used to it anymore. Growing up in the former GDR with all these exhaust fumes getting blown into the air, I would have thought my body can take that. So my next purchase will be some face masks, which you can get in almost every convenience store. They're more or less just so women can hide their faces when not yet having Make-Up on, or if you want to protect your surroundings from your gems. Sometimes even as fashion statement, when having one with a design on it. But it may at least keep a bit of the stuff away, that isn't so nice to my throat and voice. I asked my teacher at home, and she said the pollution is pretty bad and she always wears face masks when in Korea.
So in the end I skipped the meeting and went back home. I'm not that social anyway. I had to continue writing anyway.
Seoul, day 4 - doing nothing but writing and watching TV
After feeling a bit sick with my sore throat, I had slept full 12 hours. Honest, I could have slept 12 more. But I knew, I had to write it down as soon as possible. If I let myself go, I won't write down anything at all.
So, the next day will be pretty much only school, and finally finding a face mask for my throat. I would at least have two longer breaks to maybe find one mask in the near surrounding and maybe going to the river, which is nearby. Let's see.
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2017-10(OCT)-21st--Saturday---(mid afternoon) in this hellhole.
2017-10(OCT)-21st--Saturday---(mid afternoon) in this hellhole.
In my last blog post I predicted that illegal motorcycles would be the first shit going on in Friday night...and of course by saying THAT, that didn't happen. It's the way of this hellhole, to say something might happen is to almost guarentee that it then refuses to happen.
Instead...the 'first' thing that happened this morning on Saturday was a vehicle tearing out of 6 Kalara Way (Fatguts old aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD, and which has become an aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD all on it's own withut him, aided by the 'main' aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD across the road from there within spitting distance), well a vehicle came tearing out of that aboriginal criminal 6 Kalara Way place and made a large black mark on the road leading straight from that driveway to show where it came out of from. Nobody needs any Sherlock Holmes to solve that. --- It's the kind of shit that is a prelude to car shit going on and going to go on.
The VERY LOUD sound of that shit made dogs all in the neighborhood bark madly including poor dear Sam and dear Max, and they were greatly agitated by that. And afterwards the abo's all coming out onto the street and carrying on once again as if it was a fun incident.
I said fuck it all and went back to bed with dear Sam & dear Max to sleep since earlier long before dawn I'd gotten up and fed dear Sam & Max in the dark to beat any rain that was (weather department cracked crystal ball) forecast to be very heavy and possibly a thunderstorm. -- All it's done since is spit now and then with rain drops on a VERY hot day that's getting more and more humid and overcast as if it was Queensland.
We got up shortly later however because we were not allowed to sleep because of shitty abos wandering all about and making noise in the streets. They were also actively doing their usual shit of endlessly going back and forth to the Koongamia shops areas.
I happened to see an unmarked West Australian POLICE? car come into the street, park as if it was doing nothing, and then when it saw a VERY shitty vehicle leaving the Koongamia ships area carparks it suddenly took off and followed it and used no indicators doing it all I noticed. - They went around to ?
Later....after midday, a Police siren of the Police overtly coming into the hellish area today. Whether they were chasing somebody into this area, or going to an incident in this shithole area is anyones guess. -- It seemed to go where the other POLICE? vehicle had gone earlier.
All day today however, abos have once again been wandering all about. As weell as abo toddlers in diapers alone ON the roads.
One carload of abo's arrived at Fatgut's ol place and beeped it's horn loudly several times to get somebody to come out of that abo house there and pick up and take charge of the toddlers in diapers wandering all about the driveway and onto the roads. It was a casual friendly meeting and resupplying of yet more abo's into the place and area being dropped off.
Later, I happened to see the usual VERY VERY criminal bicth abo girl on a pushbike, wearing no helmet of course, and she was riding around on the wrong side of the road, went around THRU the intersection on the wrong side of the road, just as an innocent elderly couple were coming along in their vehicle unsuspecting.
UNFORTUNATELY, the abo bitch wasn't run over or hit by the car, and she just rode away and went straight into the main 3 Kalara Way abo CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD. And of course she looks like she still very much has her right arm in a full plaster cast whilst doing so.
All day the crimal abo's have been active wandering about.....
Wandering up and down the streets ON the streets. (I ownder if they've been 'warned off' of trying to break into the newly occupied homes and the caravan? Or is all that crime simply scheduled to occur later?)
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I've stated before how I deliberately put tiny things which are WRONG into my posts so if anyone fucks around with them or copies them I will know. One such thing was in my last post and to anyone who has seen it, will now realise that it was WRONG for a deliberate reason. It's of no consequence and didn't affect anything or anyone. So lets see how shit flows on.
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It's been VERY hot and overwarm, and yet criminal abo's wander around with dark jackets and with the dark hoods over their heads whilst at the same time some of the criminal female abo's are wearing shorts. If you're a criminal thug, it's adhering to the criminal codes of thuggery clothing of not being able to be identified.
It's been spitting with spots of rain on-and-off almost everytime I have to take dear Sam and dear Max outside for ablutions.
It's been getting darker and darker, with the skies getting more and more overcast. And it's been windy a lot on and off, tearing branches and twigs down from the trees that I have to clean up.
Some dear wild birds have been comong down and getting some water from a bowl of water I have outside, it's that hot and dry.
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Around 2pm....one of the VERY criminal abo women was up to her ol criminal stunts again to see if anyone was home at an innocent household by yelling out and calling for them to come out of their house and see her outside. (they ignored her totally...they probably know of this bitch and her tactics)....and so she wandered off and went away and straight into a criminal household.
I wonder if the innocent household's place will try to be broken into AGAIN? Or crimnally damaged AGAIN?
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false calm
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Very windy and darkening.
And a damned icecream van playing some inane quasi-melodic tune over and over again thru a loudspeaker is very slowly making it's way around the streets all AROUND. And I fully expect the criminal abo's to try to swamp it and get stuff, since they have 'no money'.......
You know.....buying icecreams even through they are constantly buying (or stealing) icecreams from just around the corner from the Koongamia shops.....
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In a lot of pain.
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I love you dear Fliss and so want to be with you. - I wonder how much lies and shit is being tried to be shoved down your throat as is here at this hellhole? -- Poor Sam & poor Max have been fed early, then given most of my only single tiny meal for the day, and they might have some more to eat before I go into a coma. I doubt whether sleep eternal will reward me. Sam has been having terrible nightmares again. He is not the only one.
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Some Stuff in Northern Vietnam
^ Some weird fruit I was given
I recently went to Vietnam for about five days, but upon arriving there with a huge list of things i wanted to do, coupled with what the locals were saying about how long it would take to get everywhere, I concluded that you should probably take at least two weeks to properly appreciate Vietnam, more if you can. For example, I heard great things about Halong Bay, but it takes around five hours to get there from Hanoi. Same for Sa Pa Terraces.
Anyways, I’ll tell you what I did get to do.
I always end up in different airports, and I’d like to note that the Taipei airport for my connecting flight was quite nice, and very clean. In fact, everywhere I looked there was some random old lady idly grazing the already clean floor with a broom, not a care in the world. I want that job. The Taipei airport also featured a store called "Indigenous Taiwanese Souvenirs," from which I, of course, bought genuine Polish cherry rum liqueur candies and happily watched the lady sweep the same spot on the floor for an hour.
After enduring the visa process in the Hanoi airport (I have never had an official take my passport and not give it back without any explanation for twenty minutes before), I got a cab to the Hotel La Siesta, which I found a deal for on the internet. The room was about $50 a night, which is over a million Dong, the currency in Vietnam. The scariest thing about Vietnam was the large numbers I heard every time I bought something.
Hotel La Siesta
^ The room I got in Hotel La Siesta
This place is phenomenal and I can’t say enough good things about them. Not only was it super inexpensive to stay here, but it earns it’s four star rating. The rooms are clearly set up for a romantic getaway- flower petals on the beds, hard wood floors, and cute bathroom windows. I certainly didn’t mind, though I was by myself.
The free breakfast in the morning is a mind blowing mix of all the best foods ever. There was dim sum, bruschetta, spring rolls, sushi, French pastries, and basically everything else. Wow.
If you're into the party life, this hotel is also well situated. It's in a fun area with easy access to basically everywhere, and you can walk to some nice night life.
My room was right across from the spa inside the hotel and that is a damn good spa. I enjoy massages in Vietnam far more than Thai massages in Thailand because I wasn't crying internally. This was a good time and I would certainly recommend a massage from this hotel and also this hotel itself.
The staff is in a class of their own. “Helpful” is a complete understatement. They offered to arrange transport to my next stop as well as call another hotel to set me up a reservation. They personally talked me through my travel plans and went through the logistics of my plan with me (thereby forcing me into the conclusion that I was not going to be able to see everything I wanted). They helped me arrange a train ride in a sleeping car to Dong Hoi the area of the Phong Nga caves, some of the biggest caves in the world. They offered to continue to help me in my travels after I’d checked out, though I told them I would be fine.
Hanoi
Hanoi is a dense area with a lot of shops, bars, historical monuments, mopeds, outdoor cafes with little plastic stools, bubble tea, pho, and fishing boats on the water. A lot of the time, people will sleep on the floor of their shop until someone walks in. If you walk to the back of the store you’re liable to find yourself in someone’s house. Sometimes you can see a family’s entire living space just from looking at the front of a store, because they generally have a whole front wall missing instead of having a door. They pull down a metal security door at night to close up.
^ Shrimp
^ Random street
^ Store full of local antiques
^ The only gate left standing after the French invasion. apparently the French couldn’t quite crack it open, but there is a cannon ball mark still present on the upper left part. The rest of the wall has been destroyed, presumably by the French.
There is a road of official government buildings in Hanoi that look like they might have been reclaimed from the French, painted yellow, and decorated with communist banners and symbols. These buildings look like beautiful old manor houses, and maybe they once were. All of the windows were open on most of them. Maybe they don’t have air conditioning?
^ This picture doesn’t really do these building justice, but I was taking the pics as communist soldiers stared through my life, so I thought I’d be fast.
Journey to the Phong Nga Caves
So I have been salivating to get the chance to explore the largest discovered cave in the entire world, Son Doong. Son Doong has its own forest and separate ecosystem inside, as well as some camping opportunities. Sadly, this is a trip you need to be a hard core caver for, which involves being well prepared gear-wise, as well as arranging in advance with the Vietnamese government to pay $3000 for entrance to the cave.
Son Doong is, on top of the other issues, a "level four" cave, which apparently means rappelling from the ceiling into a dark hole. Not my style. That’s why I went into a different set of caves in the same park.
I rode the sleeping train down to Dong Hoi. The train itself is a sardine tin for people, and does not have a nice bathroom. Or nice anything else. It works though, function over form. On the way back, I did meet some nice people at the train station, including one middle aged lady selling food on the side of the track. She didn't speak English but she was able to use interpretive dance to tell me that my train would be late. I sat down on one of her stools and bought a beer and some peanuts. We became insta-friends and she took me behind her store to show me where she made the food and we took selfies. When my train came, she cheerfully kissed my face and shoved me toward the train.
^ The train station with a bunch of vendors on the side
^ The train sleeping car. Not the fanciest way to travel.
^My newest best friend. We drank beer and she showed me where she makes the food in a random armchair out back near the bathrooms. She charges people money to use the bathrooms. Pretty slick. She also gives free peanuts to people who buy stuff.
On the train they wheel around a giant bowl of soup for people to eat from, but most people brought their own food. Someone grabbed my leg at around 5 am and said my stop was next, so I sat up, got my stuff and disembarked. I found myself in the countryside. I found two guys with backpacks that looked lost and were speaking German and I asked (in English) if they were trying to go into the caves. They said yes and so I tagged along with them.
I ended up being thrown onto a tour bus with a bunch of Europeans and other pasty flavors, as well as Sunny, our local tour guide. Sunny was a cheerful, yellow shirted story teller, who delighted us with cave information and tales of the valiant communists who united the country under the freedom of the sickle and hammer during the Vietnam War, using the caves as an underground network, naturally. Despite the interference of the deluded but well-meaning capitalists (she said as she gazed deeply into my deeply neutral Bald Eagle Stare), the northerners used the rough terrain that we were traversing to hide from their enemies and deliver much needed supplies. Sadly, one of the supply routes became blocked when a group of children played too close to a boulder which fell and trapped them. They were fed through a crack for nine days, but stopped taking the food. In more recent times, the rock was able to be moved without destroying the cave and the skeletons removed. She also told us that every Vietnamese household has a tiger because every Vietnamese man claims his wife is one.
Sunny would not stop giving us water bottles. I think she didn’t want us to overheat, but I’d already brought my own so I made a joke that I looked like I was trying to smuggle water across the border. I started hearing people try to dissect the joke in several different languages, obviously not understanding why I thought it was funny. But there was a Canadian who said she knew we had had a water smuggler all along. She was watching me.
Paradise Cave
This cave was previously thought to be formed by a river or inlet of ocean flowing through a crack in the earth, but now they know it was formed independently, when a bunch of underground water began to cut out minerals about 400,000 years ago. This cave is the longest cave in the world, though not the largest. Cutting through the cave is a wooden walk way, but it only goes 1 km there and back. It does not go all the way through the cave for conservation reasons. It is a shame but would also have taken a few days to walk all of it. The entire cave looks like melted peanut butter.
^ Paradise Cave entrance
^ Inside the cave
^ Still exploring along the wooden cave walkway
^ This is a spot where a bunch of people were taking selfies. It is also I think near where some guy said to me, “I don’t speak English. You are nice looking and I hope you have a good day.” Take notes gentlemen.
Lunch
We had lunch in an outdoor restaurant, which seems to be the norm here. The food came in giant leaf platters. Sunny decided to leave and never come back, so she yelled “bye!” and then left us all, and we were confused.
We finished our lunch and milled around haphazardly inside a storm of frantic people handing out cave equipment. Eventually we used our collective unconscious to migrate in the general direction of the start of the cave.
^ FOOD LEAF FUCK YEAH
^ Food leaf restaurant
^ View of the end of the Dark Cave adventure from the restaurant
Dark Cave
Dark Cave was a fun adventure, and I couldn’t take my camera into it, because you have to swim the whole way. You are supposed to climb a two story tower from which you zip line into the cave entrance. After finishing the zip line, you climb into the water in your bathing suit, hard hat and life jacket and swim to a wooden walk way inside. Then you swim and walk through a really dark bat cave with what look like volcanic rocks lining the tall overhang, and climb through a slippery dark passageway inside the cave. We ended up in a super dark area (dark cave, weird that it would be called that), and there was a small cavern where we took off our life jackets and swam into what was basically a mud bath. The water was flowing slowly toward the back of the cave where it disappeared into a small crack going under ground. Fresh water came into the cave from the other side and the bottom and sides of this cavern were clay. I naturally floated at about chest level without effort, and everyone was giggling and making clay dicks on the wall and throwing mud at each other. One guy collected so much mud that he had an armful and was pretending to be a mud merchant selling his wares.We were told after about a half hour that we had to leave :(
We then went back out to the boats outside the cave and went over to the mini obstacle courses over the water and a dangerous looking water swing that no one died on but probably could have.
We were led back to the restaurant, where a bunch of puppies had come out to play in the middle of the day. They gave us rum and coke, and we watched the puppies run around. It was a good time.
^ This is a different view of the end of the Dark Cave adventure, but if you’d like more information or pictures, the below link is the tour guide page.
http://sondoongcavetour.abstravel.asia/dark-cave-tour-with-kayak-zipline-1-day.html
Dong Hoi
I got dropped off at sunshine hotel in dong hoi and didn't stay at the super boonies around the caves because I figured it would be easier to access the train that way. I was torn from my fellow mud merchants, and deposited at the hotel. I was initially concerned about a last minute hotel reservation being expensive and boy was it. A whole 400, 000 dong. That twelve dollars really set me back. I cried so hard that my own personal tears solved the world water crisis.
The hotel did have free mopeds to borrow but I figured I would hurt myself if I used one. I spent a long time watching fishing boats on the beach instead.
^ That twelve dollars got me two beds and hard wood floors.
^ So it seems like in most Vietnamese bathrooms, the shower head is just sort of on the wall like this and you just shower in the middle of the floor. It’s not as weird as it seems.
^ Nice restaurant with a good view of the neighborhood
^ Crunchy egg rice with cucumbers
^ Shrimp
^ Part of the small bay near Dong Hoi
^ This church had a sign nearby declaring it to be evidence of American war crimes. Clearly it has been destroyed and possibly bombed.
^ Neat building I saw
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Morning Pages #27 (06.02.2017)
Monday 6th February - 11:26 a.m.
I’m home, in Mill Park now. I had to pack it all up pretty quickly. I woke up at a little past 8 a.m. and then fed the fish and the cats, vacuumed the bedroom and the bathroom, then had a shower, then vacuumed the living room and the kitchen. I took out the rubbish and replaced the newspapers and the water bowls. I pulled all of my hair out of the shower drain! My dad came and picked me up, and I ate my breakfast (a hot cross bun) on the way home in the car. I feel a little anxious because I left Emily’s keys under Scott’s mat, like last time. Except last time, Scott was only gone for a half hour and he knew the keys were going to be there when he got back so he could pick them up really quickly. This time around I’m not sure if he’ll know that the keys have been left under his mat before Emily comes home at around 3 o’clock this afternoon. I had to tell Emily that I left her keys under Scott’s mat though. Hopefully this doesn’t make her mad. I feel like it was a little irresponsible, but hopefully she’s mostly fine with it. Her building is full of lovely people. I don’t see any of them doing anything shifty with her keys. In fact, I’m not too worried about them getting stolen at all. I’m more worried about her being mad that I left them under someone’s mat.
Anyway, I’m glad to be home! Except I’m still really hungry, I’m going to eat something else after I finish these pages. I do love the Northcote area, and living there was CRAZY convenient, but I was missing all my things. And I’m excited to start preparing for the new semester. My timetable has been sorted out now and it’s just beginning to feel like a new year, finally. I will be twenty years old in twenty-one days and I am a little nervous about it. My teenage years are drawing to a close. Right after the final performance of ‘We Are Their Children’, Tarsh - an old member of the theatre group who came to see us on closing night - told me that my face had really opened up and I seemed a lot more confident in myself. ‘You’ve really turned into a woman’. That’s what she said to me. The last time she saw me was two years ago, when I was eighteen. I had just shaved my head for the World’s Greatest Shave but right before she left, I still had my very long hair. During my school years, my hair fell all the way down to the end of my spinal cord. It was incredibly thick and wavy and long, and it essentially defined who I was not only to myself, but to a lot of people. ‘Ruwanthi’ was that girl hiding behind all of that impossibly long hair. ‘Rue’ is most definitely a lot more open with the world, a lot more sure of herself. Tarsh saying that to me - and Kat agreeing with her - on the 27th of January, exactly a month before my birthday, was a big deal for me. It made me feel like I was actually ready to be twenty. I do feel like I’ve grown a lot over these last two years after high school, and now that we’re heading into my third year as an ‘adult’, and the end of my second decade of life, I finally think I’m ready to own being a twenty-something. Moreso, after ending things with Ikaros, I also feel like I’m done taking bullshit anymore for the sake of sparing other people’s feelings. He said to me that he still wants to spend time with me even though he agreed we don’t work well as a couple. And of course, I still want to spend time with him too. In fact, I wouldn’t be lying if I said part of me still wishes we could’ve worked well as a couple too. But we don’t. And we deserve to be with people who are actually good for us. I told him that last night. I called him. He had been texting me all day yesterday; photos of Ronny’s house and all of Ronny’s pets. He had spent Saturday afternoon till Sunday night at Ronny’s. I had been writing all day yesterday. It was actually a really productive day for me! I actually wrote a slam poem, using a piece I’d written a couple of years ago this one time where I had experienced some major culture-influenced gender inequality during a particularly heated discussion with my parents. The original piece was titled ‘Brown girl in the mud’, and I retained that name for my slam poem too, because it was still pretty fitting to the parts of the piece that I played around with to turn it into a spoken word piece rather than a strictly prose piece.
Evan texted me last night, asking me if I had written my three daily pages. I told him about that on our date on Saturday night. I told him I had, and I also told him I’d finished a spoken word piece. He said he wanted to hear it. We sent texts to each other for a while, back and forth, talking about our day and everything. He told me to listen to Ed Sheeran’s new stuff, namely to watch the music video for ‘Castle on the Hill’. So I did, and I also watched the music video for ‘Shape of You’. Aside from some of its more explicit lyrics, ‘Shape of You’ was my favourite, but I let him know that ‘Castle on the Hill’ reminded me a lot of ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower’. He said that he loved that movie. He also told me on Saturday night that he loved ‘500 Days of Summer’! I just have an endlessly good feeling about this guy. I don’t know. I’ve been idealistic before, but I don’t even think this is me being idealistic. I feel a genuine connection here. It might just be because we do have so much in common, so many mutual interests, and that might be the extent of it too. We might not be suited to each other romantically, but I’m not too fussed about where this will lead. I just kind of want to keep talking to him and seeing him and kissing him. I want to dance with him again too, I really do. Do you know how rare it is to find somebody you can actually spend that much time dancing with and not be aware that that much time had actually passed?! Every other dance partner I’ve had has been absolutely shit in comparison.
I need to stop talking about him though. I mean, I have very much enjoyed talking about him and talking to him and all that. I also let Dan know how the second date went because he’s been quite invested in this story, ever since he bailed on me when I wanted to go to Laundry with him! Malith also texted me on Friday asking if we were going out this weekend. It’s funny that he keeps texting me the day before to see if I’ve organised it rather than just coming out with me spontaneously. It’s just that Saturdays are DnD nights or some other thing at Dion’s and Malith always goes with the most thought-out plan so that he is guaranteed a good weekend. Because a night out might easily turn to shit, but a night sitting around some guy’s dinner table playing Dungeons and Dragons with six other guys is a sure-fire recipe for a good time.
It’s 12 past 12 now and Emily messaged me back at noon so hopefully Scott’s picked up her keys now. I really don’t want to finish these pages, I’m just filled with this sense of relief and of closure right now that I just want to spend the rest of this day getting my room and my sense of place finally back in order. Although I spent most of last week home here, I still feel like this is the first time I’ve been properly back in Mill Park for a while. It’s a nice day for settling in too. It’s cold and rainy out, a top of seventeen degrees, I think. There was a gentle storm in the dead hours of the night, and on Sunday evening there was a thunderous monster storm. Nothing flooded this time round, I mean it only rained really heavily on and off from about 8 p.m. till maybe 9. There wasn’t enough continuous rain to do any real damage, but because it was on and off within a very brief period of time, it made it feel continuous anyway. I think next week will reach a top of thirty-one degrees, between Wednesday and Thursday. It seems like summer’s going to be on its way out soon then. With any luck, our last recorded weather extreme for this summer will have been last Saturday, Saturday the 4th. It was thirty-seven degrees for most of the afternoon.
Autumn in Melbourne is synonymous with semester one at the University of Melbourne for me now. I have so many memories of walking around the city in my red raincoat between classes, skipping around puddles in my big, brown boots, and tucking my chin into jackets that have been zipped all the way up. Checking and rechecking my backpack to make sure the rain hasn’t touched my books, and feeling proud of myself for wiping my sopping shoes onto any available matting before walking into buildings and into their manmade warmth. The train stations were always the most precarious places to be during that signature Melbourne rainfall. The floors were shiny with the wet that people had brought in, as they naturally rushed about trying to get wherever they needed to be, whenever they needed to be there. I’ve fallen a handful of times in train stations and have now simply accepted that it’s always bound to happen. It’s a natural place to fall over and thus, people will not make a spectacle of you.
I told Evan about the scar that I have on my knee from falling up an escalator. We spoke briefly about walking up down escalators, and down up escalators when we were kids, and shared our thoughts about how it’s really been so long since we’d last done anything like that. It honestly has been so long. The time just escapes you. I feel like as you grow older, life piles on more and more layers of distractions and you spend all your days sorting through these layers. The mere act of trying to fix this never-ending mess becomes what society believes to be living. Adulthood is just a mass of errands, one blurring into the next so that there’s always something for you to do, until you’re too tired to do anything much anymore and then you realise just how old you’ve become, how many years has passed. That’s why people keep saying life is too short. I feel like people just pacify themselves for decades. I might be at the beginning of my own pacifying. I feel the need to nip it in the bud now. I’m just not sure how, or even if I can. I just don’t want to ever feel like I never had enough time.
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When I asked Pantry board member, Barbara Smith, to explain the inspiration behind the organization’s annual Empty Bowl’s fundraiser, she shared the following parable with me.
“There’s a story about a man who left this earth and was taken on a tour of the inner realms,” she said. “He was shown a room where he saw a large group of hungry people trying to eat dinner, but because the spoons that they were trying to eat with were longer than their arms, they remained frustrated, not being able to reach the spoons to their mouths. ‘This,’ his guide told him, ‘is hell.’ ‘That’s terrible,’ exclaimed the man. ‘Please show me heaven!’ ‘Very well,’ agreed the guide, and on they went. When they opened heaven’s door, the man was perplexed to see what looked very much like the same scene: There was a group of people with spoons longer than their arms. But as he looked more closely, he saw happy faces and full tummies, for there was one important difference: the people in heaven had learned how to feed each other.”
Much like the parable shared above, Smith said that here on Earth, we can also learn to feed each other.
Now celebrating its 13th year, the annual Empty Bowls Pantry Fundraiser will be held on Valentine’s Day, Tuesday, Feb. 14, from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. at the Oxford Conference Center at 102 Ed Perry Boulevard. (The event has been held at the OU Methodist Church in the past, but the church is currently undergoing renovation.)
“We will have an abundance of parking spaces, a great choice of soups and bread donated by our generous restaurants and, of course, beautiful bowls donated by the UM Mud Daubers and local artists,” Smith said.
Your $20 admission fee includes a handmade bowl of your choosing, a bowl of soup, piece of bread and water.
“The bowls are a reminder of the meal’s purpose…that someone’s bowl is always empty,” Smith said.
The annual Empty Bowls fundraiser is one of the best ways for the all-volunteer-staffed Pantry to raise money, according to Smith.
“We are funded by our annual fundraiser luncheon, community organizations, food drives and individual donations,” Smith said. “Individual churches and civic groups volunteer on a monthly basis to service the client distribution of groceries, and last year we fed 1,000 individuals per month, on average.”
Mark your calendars and join your neighbors for a Valentine’s Day lunch that is sure to fill your belly with delicious soup and your heart with the joy of giving.
The Soups!
If you’re wondering about the soup lineup, you can’t go wrong. No matter which soup you choose, it’s guaranteed to be delicious and served with love.
• Ajax — Chicken and Sausage Gumbo and Cornbread
• Boure’ — Steak and Potato
• Camp Lake Stephens — Taco Soup
• Country Club of Oxford –Seafood Chowder
• Fat Eddie’s — Pasta e Fagioli
• Grit, A&N Catering — Vegetarian Minestrone
• James Food Center, Mayor Pat Patterson –Lots of Chicken and Rice Soup
• Lenora’s — Chili
• McAlister’s Deli — Parmesan Kale and Turkey Sausage
• McEwen’s — Zuppa Toscana
• Newk’s — Chicken Tortilla –
• No Time 2 Cook — Shrimp and Crab Bisque
• Oby’s — Broccoli and Cheese Soup
• Old Venice Pizza Company — Chicken Noodle
• Oxford University Club — Chicken Gumbo
• Proud Larry’s — Chicken Florentine
• Rafters — Gumbo
• Ravine — Sweet Potato Bisque
• Saint Leo – parmesan rind broth soup with kale, white beans and croutons.
• Taylor Catering — Jambalaya and Cheesy Potato Soup
• The Main Event Catering — Indian Lentil/Tomato
• Volta — Soul Soup
Liz Barrett Foster is the EatingOxford editor for HottyToddy.com, an award-winning business journalist and author of the recently published Pizza: A Slice of American History. Liz ran the popular restaurant information site EatingOxford.com from 2009 to 2015. Liz can be reached at [email protected].
Follow HottyToddy.com on Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat @hottytoddynews. Like its Facebook page: If You Love Oxford and Ole Miss…
The post EatingOxford: Filling Empty Bowls This Valentine’s Day appeared first on HottyToddy.com.
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When I asked Pantry board member, Barbara Smith, to explain the inspiration behind the organization’s annual Empty Bowl’s fundraiser, she shared the following parable with me.
“There’s a story about a man who left this earth and was taken on a tour of the inner realms,” she said. “He was shown a room where he saw a large group of hungry people trying to eat dinner, but because the spoons that they were trying to eat with were longer than their arms, they remained frustrated, not being able to reach the spoons to their mouths. ‘This,’ his guide told him, ‘is hell.’ ‘That’s terrible,’ exclaimed the man. ‘Please show me heaven!’ ‘Very well,’ agreed the guide, and on they went. When they opened heaven’s door, the man was perplexed to see what looked very much like the same scene: There was a group of people with spoons longer than their arms. But as he looked more closely, he saw happy faces and full tummies, for there was one important difference: the people in heaven had learned how to feed each other.”
Much like the parable shared above, Smith said that here on Earth, we can also learn to feed each other.
Now celebrating its 13th year, the annual Empty Bowls Pantry Fundraiser will be held on Valentine’s Day, Tuesday, Feb. 14, from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. at the Oxford Conference Center at 102 Ed Perry Boulevard. (The event has been held at the OU Methodist Church in the past, but the church is currently undergoing renovation.)
“We will have an abundance of parking spaces, a great choice of soups and bread donated by our generous restaurants and, of course, beautiful bowls donated by the UM Mud Daubers and local artists,” Smith said.
Your $20 admission fee includes a handmade bowl of your choosing, a bowl of soup, piece of bread and water.
“The bowls are a reminder of the meal’s purpose…that someone’s bowl is always empty,” Smith said.
The annual Empty Bowls fundraiser is one of the best ways for the all-volunteer-staffed Pantry to raise money, according to Smith.
“We are funded by our annual fundraiser luncheon, community organizations, food drives and individual donations,” Smith said. “Individual churches and civic groups volunteer on a monthly basis to service the client distribution of groceries, and last year we fed 1,000 individuals per month, on average.”
Mark your calendars and join your neighbors for a Valentine’s Day lunch that is sure to fill your belly with delicious soup and your heart with the joy of giving.
The Soups!
If you’re wondering about the soup lineup, you can’t go wrong. No matter which soup you choose, it’s guaranteed to be delicious and served with love.
• Ajax — Chicken and Sausage Gumbo and Cornbread
• Boure’ — Steak and Potato
• Camp Lake Stephens — Taco Soup
• Country Club of Oxford –Seafood Chowder
• Fat Eddie’s — Pasta e Fagioli
• Grit, A&N Catering — Vegetarian Minestrone
• James Food Center, Mayor Pat Patterson –Lots of Chicken and Rice Soup
• Lenora’s — Chili
• McAlister’s Deli — Parmesan Kale and Turkey Sausage
• McEwen’s — Zuppa Toscana
• Newk’s — Chicken Tortilla –
• No Time 2 Cook — Shrimp and Crab Bisque
• Oby’s — Broccoli and Cheese Soup
• Old Venice Pizza Company — Chicken Noodle
• Oxford University Club — Chicken Gumbo
• Proud Larry’s — Chicken Florentine
• Rafters — Gumbo
• Ravine — Sweet Potato Bisque
• Saint Leo – parmesan rind broth soup with kale, white beans and croutons.
• Taylor Catering — Jambalaya and Cheesy Potato Soup
• The Main Event Catering — Indian Lentil/Tomato
• Volta — Soul Soup
Liz Barrett Foster is the EatingOxford editor for HottyToddy.com, an award-winning business journalist and author of the recently published Pizza: A Slice of American History. Liz ran the popular restaurant information site EatingOxford.com from 2009 to 2015. Liz can be reached at [email protected].
Follow HottyToddy.com on Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat @hottytoddynews. Like its Facebook page: If You Love Oxford and Ole Miss…
The post EatingOxford: Filling Empty Bowls This Valentine’s Day appeared first on HottyToddy.com.
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